The Complete Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - Part 8

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The Complete Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - Part 8

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Part 7 continued... 

418 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

foaming glass. "Drink, ere the spirit of it pass! This 
third glass shall froth away untasted to the memory of my 
unhappy Mariana. How red were her lips when she then 
drank your health ! Ah, and now forever pale and cold ! '* 

" Sibyl ! Fury ! " cried Wilhelm, springing up, and strik- 
ing the table with his fist, " what evil spirit possesses thee 
and drives thee? For what dost thou take me, that thou 
thinkest the simplest narrative of Mariana's death and sor- 
rows will not harrow me enough, but usest these hellish arts 
to sharpen my torment? If thy insatiable greediness is such, 
that thou must revel at the funeral- table, drink and speak ! 
I have loathed thee from of old ; and I cannot reckon Ma- 
riana guiltless while I even look upon thee, her compan- 
ion." 

" Softly, mein Herr ! " replied the crone : " you shall not 
ruffle me. Your debts to us are deep and dark : the railing 
of a debtor does not anger one. But you are right : the 
simplest narrative will punish you sufficiently. Hear, then, 
the struggle and the victory of Mariana striving to continue 
yours." 

" Continue mine ? " cried Wilhelm : " what fable dost thou 
mean to tell me ? ' ' 

" Interrupt me not," said she; "hear me, and then give 
what belief you list : to me it is all one. Did you not, the 
last night you were with us, find a letter in the room, and take 
it with you ? ' ' 

' ' I found the letter after I had taken it with me : it was 
lying in the neckerchief, which, in the warmth of my love, I 
had seized and carried off." 

" What did the sheet contain? " 

' ' The expectation of an angry lover to be better treated 
on the next than he had been on the preceding evening. 
And that you kept your wofd to him, I need not be told ; for 
I saw him with my own eyes gliding from your house before 
daybreak." 

" You may have seen him ; but what occurred within, how 
sadly Mariana passed that night, how fretfully I passed it, 
you are yet to learn. I will be altogether candid : I will 
neither hide nor palliate the fact, that I persuaded Mariana 
to yield to the solicitations of a certain Norberg ; it was with 
repugnance that she followed my advice, nay, that she even 
heard it. He was rich ; he seemed attached : I hoped he 
would be constant. Soon after, he was forced to go upon 
his journey ; and Mariana became ac^iuainted with you. 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 419 

What lijid I then to abide ! What to hinder, what to un-- 
dergo ! ' Oh ! ' cried she often, ' hadst thou spared my 
youth, my innocence, but four short weeks, I might have 
found a worthy object of my love ; I had then been worthy of 
him ; and love might have given, with a quiet conscience, 
what now I have sold against my will.' She entirely aban- 
doned herself to her affection for you : I need not ask if you 
were happy. Over her understanding I had an unbounded 
power, for I knew the means of satisfying all her little in- 
clinations : but over her heart I had no control ; for she 
never sanctioned what I did for her, what I counselled her to 
do, when her heart said nay. It was only to irresistible 
necessity that she would 3aeld, but erelong the necessity ap- 
peared to her extremely pressing. In the first period of her 
youth, she had never known want ; by a complication of mis- 
fortunes, her people lost their fortune ; the poor girl had 
been used to have a number of conveniences ; and upon her 
3^oung spirit certain principles of honor had been stamped, 
which made her restless, without much helping her. She had 
not the smallest skill in worldly matters : she was innocent 
in the strictest meaning of the word. She had no idea that 
one could buy without paying ; nothing frightened her more 
than being in debt : she always rather liked to give than 
take. This, and this alone, was what made it possible that 
she could be constrained to give herself away, in order to 
get rid of various little debts which weighed upon her. ' ' 

" And couldst not thou," cried Wilhelm, in an angry tone, 
*' have saved her? " 

" Oh, yes ! " replied the beldame, " with hunger and need, 
with sorrow and privation ; but for this I was not disposed. ' ' 

"Abominable, base procuress! So thou hast sacrificed 
the hapless creature ! Offered her up to thy throat, to thy 
insatiable maw ! ' ' 

' ' It were better to compose yourself, and cease your revil- 
ing," said the dame. " If you will revile, go to your high, 
noble houses : there you will meet with many a mother, full 
of anxious cares to find out for some lovely, heavenly maiden 
the most odious of men, provided he be the richest. See the 
poor creature shivering and faltering before her fate, and 
nowhere finding consolation, till some more experienced fe- 
male lets her understand, that, by marriage, she acquires the 
right, in future, to dispose of her heart and person as she 
pleases." 

"Peace!" cried Wilhelm. "Dost thou think that one 



420 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

crime can be the excuse of another? To thy story, without 
further observations ! ' ' 

" Do you listen, then, without blaming I Mariana became 
yours against my will. In this adventure, at least, I have 
nothing to reproach myself with. Norberg returned ; he 
made haste to visit Mariana : she received him coldly and 
angrily, — would not even admit him to a kiss. I employed 
all my art in apologizing for her conduct, — gave him to 
understand that her confessor had awakened her conscience ; 
that, so long as conscientious scruples lasted, one was bound 
to respect them. I at last so far succeeded that he went 
away, I promising to do my utmost for him. He was rich 
and rude ; but there was a touch of goodness in him, and he 
loved Mariana without limit. He promised to be patient, 
and I labored with the greatest ardor not to try him too far. 
With Mariana I had a stubborn contest : I persuaded her, 
nay, I may call it forced her, by the threat of leaving her, to 
write to Norberg, and invite him for the night. You came, 
and by chance picked up his answer in the neckerchief. 
Your presence broke my game. For scarcelj^ were you gone, 
when she anew began her lamentation : she swore she would 
not be unfaithful to you ; she was so passionate, so frantic, 
that I could not help sincerely pitying her. In the end, I 
promised, that for this night also I would pacify her lover, 
and send him off, under some pretence or other. I entreated 
her to go to bed, but she did not seem to trust me : she kept 
on her clothes, and at last fell asleep, without undressing, 
agitated and exhausted with weeping as she was. 

'' Norberg came ; representing in the blackest hues her 
conscientious agonies and her repentance, I endeavored to 
retain him : he wished to see her, and I went into the room 
to prepare her ; he followed me, and both of us at once 
came forward to her bed. She awoke, sprang wildly up, and 
tore herself from our arms : she conjured and begged, she 
entreated, threatened, and declared she would not yield. 
She was improvident enough to let fall some words about the 
true state of her affections, which poor Norberg had to 
understand in a spiritual sense. At length he left her, and 
she locked her door. I kept him long with me, and talked 
with him about her situation. I told him that she was with 
child ; that, poor girl, she should be humored. He was so 
delighted with his fatherhood, with his prospect of a boy, 
that he granted every thing she wished : he promised rather 
to set out and travel for a time, than vex his dear, and 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 421 

injure her by these internal troubles. With such intentions, 
at an early hour he glided out ; and if you, mein Herr, 
stood sentry by our house, there was nothing wanting to your 
happiness, but to have looked into the bosom of your rival, 
whom you thought so favored and so fortunate, and whose 
appearance drove you to despair." 

" Art thou speaking truth? " said Wilhelm. 

" True,'* said the crone, " as I still hope to drive you to 
despair." 

"Yes: certainly you would despair, if I could rightly 
paint to you the following morning. How cheerfully did she 
awake ! how kindly did she call me in, how warmly thank 
me, how cordially press me to her bosom ! ' Now/ said she, 
stepping up to her mirror with a smile, ' can I again take 
pleasure in myself, and in my looks, since once more I am 
my own, am his, my one beloved friend's. How sweet is it 
to conquer ! How I thank thee for taking charge of me ; for 
having turned thy prudence and thy understanding, once, at 
least, to my advantage ! Stand by me, and devise the means 
of making me entirely happy ! ' 

" I assented, would not irritate her : I flattered her hopes, 
and she caressed me tenderly. If she retired but a moment 
from the window, I was made to stand and watch : for you, 
of course, would pass ; for she at least would see you. Thus 
did we spend the restless day. At night, at the accustomed 
hour, we looked for you with certainty. I was already out 
waiting at the staircase : I grew weary, and came in to her 
again. With surprise I found her in her military dress : she 
looked cheerful and charming beyond what I had ever seen 
her. ' Do I not deserve,' said she, ' to appear to-night in 
man's apparel? Have I not struggled bravely ? My dear- 
est shall see me as he saw me for the first time : I will press 
him as tenderly and with greater freedom to my heart than 
then ; for am I not his much more than I was then, when a 
noble resolution had not freed me? But,' added she, after 
pausing for a little, ' I have not yet entirely won him ; I must 
still risk the uttermost, in order to be worthy, to be certain 
of possessing him ; I must disclose the whole to him, dis- 
cover to him all my state, then leave it to himself to keep or 
to reject me. This scene I am preparing for my friend, pre- 
paring for myself ; and, were his feelings capable of casting 
me awa}', I should then belong again entirely to myself ; my 
punishment would bring me consolation, I would suffer all 
that fate could lay upon me.' 



422 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 



"With such purposes and hopes, mein Herr, this lovely 
girl expected you : you came not. Oh ! how shall I describe 
the state of watching and of hope? I see thee still before 
me, — with what love, what heartfelt love, thou spokest of 
the man whose cruelty thou hadst not yet experienced." 

" Good, dear Barbara ! " cried Wilhelm, springing up, and 
seizing the old woman by the hand, " we have had enough of 
mummery and preparation ! Thy indifferent, thy calm, con- 
tented tone betrays thee. Give me back m}^ Mariana ! She 
is living, she is near at hand. Not in vain didst thou choose 
this late, lonely hour to visit me ; not in vain hast thou pre- 
pared me by thy most delicious narrative. Where is she? 
Where hast thou hidden her? I believe all, I will promise to 
believe all, so thou but show her to me, so thou give her to 
my arms. The shadow of her I have seen already : let me 
clasp her once more to my bosom. I will kneel before her, 
I will entreat forgiveness ; I will congratulate her upon her 
victory over herself and thee ; I will bring my Felix to her. 
Come! Where hast thou concealed her? Leave her, leave 
me no longer in uncertainty ! Thy object is attained. Where 
hast thou hidden her? Let me light thee with this candle, 
let me once more see her fair and kindly face ! ' ' 

He had pulled old Barbara from her chair : she stared at 
him ; tears started into her eyes, wild pangs of grief took 
hold of her. "What luckless error," cried she, "leaves 
you still a moment's hope? Yes, I have hidden her, but 
beneath the ground : neither the light of the sun nor any 
social taper shall again illuminate her kindly face. Take 
the boy Felix to her grave, and say to him, ' There lies thy 
mother, whom thy father doomed unheard.' The heart of 
Mariana beats no longer with impatience to behold you : not 
in a neighboring chamber is she waiting the conclusion of my 
narrative or fable ; the dark chamber has received her, to 
which no bridegroom follows, from which none comes to 
meet a lover." 

She cast herself upon the floor beside a chair, and wept 
bitterly. Wilhelm now, for the first time, felt entirely con- 
vinced that Mariana was no more : his emotions it is easy 
to conceive. The old woman rose: "I have nothing more 
to tell you," cried she, and threw a packet on the table. 
"Here are some writings that will put your cruelty to 
shame: peruse these sheets with unwet eyes, if you can." 
She glided softly out. Our friend had not the heart to open 
the pocket-book that night : he had himself presented it to 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 423 

Mariana ; he knew that she had carefully preserved in it 
every letter he had sent her. Next morning he prevailed 
upon himself : he untied the ribbon ; little notes came for- 
ward written with pencil in his own hand, and recalled to 
him every situation, from the first day of their graceful 
acquaintance to the last of their stern separation. In par- 
ticular, it was not without acute anguish that he read a small 
series of billets which had been addressed to himself, and to 
which, as he saw from their tenor, Werner had refused 
admittance. 

"No one of my letters has yet penetrated to thee; my 
entreaties, my prayers, have not reached thee ; was it thyself 
that gave these cruel orders ? Shall I never see thee more ? 
Yet again I attempt it : I entreat thee, come, oh come ! I 
ask not to retain thee, if I might but once more press thee 
to my heart." 

" When I used to sit beside thee, holding thy hands, look- 
ing in thy eyes, and with the full heart of love and trust to 
call thee ' Dear, dear good Wilhelm ! ' it would please thee 
so, that I had to repeat it over and over. I repeat it once 
again : ' Dear, dear good Wilhelm ! Be good as thou wert : 
come, and leave me not to perish in my wretchedness.' " 

" Thou regardest me as guilty : I am so, but not as thou 
thinkest. Come, let me have this single comfort, to be alto- 
gether known to thee, let what will befall me afterwards.'* 

'' Not for my sake alone, for thy own too, I beg of thee 
to come. I feel the intolerable pains thou art suffering, 
whilst thou fleest from me. Come, that our separation may 
be less cruel ! Perhaps I was never worthy of thee till this 
moment, when thou art repelling me to boundless woe." 

""By all that is holy, by all that can touch a human heart, 
I call upon thee ! It involves the safety of a soul, it in- 
volves a life, two lives, one of which must ever be dear to 
thee. This, too, thy suspicion will discredit: yet I will 
speak it in the hour of death ; the child which I carry under 
my heart is thine. Since I began to love thee, no other 
man has even pressed my hand. Oh that thy love, that thy 
uprightness, had been the companions of my youth ! ' ' 



424 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

'* Thou wilt not hear me? I must even be silent. But 
these letters will not die : perhaps they will speak to thee, 
when the shroud is covering my lips, and the voice of thy 
repentance cannot reach my ear. Through my weary life, 
to the last moment, this will be my only comfort, that, 
though I cannot call myself blameless, towards thee I am 
free from blame." 

Wilhelm could proceed no farther: he resigned himself 
entirely to his sorrow, which became still more afflicting ; 
when, Laertes entering, he was obliged to hide his feelings. 
Laertes showed a purse of ducats, and began to count and 
reckon them, assuring Wilhelm that there could be nothing 
finer in the world than for a man to feel himself on the way 
to wealth ; that nothing then could trouble or detain him. 
Wilhelm bethought him of his dream, and smiled ; but at the 
same time, Jae remembered with a shudder, that in his vision 
Mariana had forsaken him, to follow his departed father, 
and that both of them at last had moved about the garden, 
hovering in the air like spirits. 

Laertes forced him from his meditations : he brought him 
to a coffee-house, where, immediately on Wilhelm's entrance, 
several pei'sons gathered round him. They were men who 
had applauded his performance on the stage : they expressed 
their joy at meeting him ; lamenting that, as they had heard, 
he meant to leave the theatre. They spoke so reasonably 
and kindly of himself and his acting, of his talent, and their 
hopes from it, that Wilhelm, not without emotion, cried at 
last, " Oh, how infinitely precious would such sympathy have 
been to me some months ago ! How instructive, how en- 
couraging ! Never had I turned my mind so totally from the 
concerns of the stage, never had I gone so far as to despair 
of the public." 

" So far as this," said an elderly man who now stepped 
forward, "we should never go. The public is large: true 
judgment, true feeling, are not quite so rare as one believes ; 
only the artist ought not to demand an unconditional ap- 
proval of his work. Unconditional approval is always the 
least valuable : conditional you gentlemen are not content 
with. In life, as in art, I know well, a person must take 
counsel with himself when he purposes to do or to produce 
any thing : but, when it is produced or done, he must listen 
with attention to the voices of a number ; and, with a little 
practice, out of these many votes he will be able to collect a 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 425 

perfect judgment. The few who could well have saved us 
this trouble for the most part hold their peace." 

" This they should not do," said Wilhelm. " I have often 
heard people, who themselves kept silence in regard to works 
of merit, complain and lament that silence was kept*" 

" To-day, then, we will speak aloud," cried a young man. 
' ' You must dine with us ; and we will try to pay off a little 
of the debt which we have owed to you, and sometimes also 
to our good Aurelia." 

This invitation Wilhelm courteously declined : he went to 
Frau Melina, whom he wished to speak with on the subject of 
the children, as he meant to take them from her. 

Old Barbara's secret was not too religiously observed by 
him. He betrayed himself so soon as he again beheld the 
lovely Felix. " Oh my child ! " cried he : " my dear child ! " 
He lifted him, and pressed him to his heart. 

" Father ! what hast thou brought for me ? " cried the child. 
Mignon looked at both, as if she meant to warn them not to 
blab. 

"What new phenomenon is this?" said Frau Melina. 
They got the children sent away ; and Wilhelm, thinking 
that he did not owe old Barbara the strictest secrecy, dis- 
closed the whole affair to Frau Melina. She viewed him 
with a smile. " Oh, these credulous men ! " exclaimed she. 
" If any thing is lying in their path, it is so easy to impose it 
on them ; while in other cases they will neither look to the 
right nor left, and can value nothing which they have not 
previously impressed with the stamp of an arbitrary pas- 
sion ! " She sighed, against her will : if our friend had not 
been altogether blind, he must have noticed in her conduct 
an affection for him which had never been entirely subdued. 

He now spoke with her about the children, — how he pur- 
posed to keep Felix with him, and to place Mignon in the 
country. Madam Melina, though sorry at the thought of 
parting with them, said the plan was good, nay, absolutely 
necessary. Felix was becoming wild with her, and Mignon 
seemed to need fresh air and other occupation : she was 
sickly, and was not yet recovering. 

''Let it not mislead you," added Frau Melina, " that I 
have lightly hinted doubts about the boy's being really 
yours. The old woman, it is true, deserves but little confi- 
dence ; 3^et a person who invents untruths for her advantage, 
may likewise speak the truth when truths are profitable to 
her. Aurelia she had hoodwinked to believe that Felix was 



426 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

Lothario's son ; and it is a property of us women, that we 
cordially like the children of our lovers, though we do not 
know the mothers, or even hate them from the heart.** Fe- 
lix came jumping in : she pressed him to her with a tender- 
ness which was not usual to her. 

Wilhelm hastened home, and sent for Barbara, who, how- 
ever, would not undertake to meet him till the twilight. He 
received her angrily. " There is nothing in the world more 
shameful,'* said he, "than establishing one's self on lies 
and fables. Already thou hast done much mischief with 
them ; and now, when thy word could decide the fortune of 
my life, now must I stand dubious, not venturing to call the 
child my own, though to possess him without scruple would 
form my highest happiness. I cannot look upon thee, scan- 
dalous creature, without hatred and contempt." 

"Your conduct, if I speak with candor," said the old 
woman, "appears to me intolerable. Even if Felix were 
not yours, he is the fairest and the loveliest child in nature : 
one might purchase him at any price, to have him always 
near one. Is he not worthy your acceptance? Do not I 
deserve for my care, for the labor I have had with him, a 
little pension for the small remainder of my life ? Oh, you 
gentlemen who know no want ! It is well for you to talk of 
truth and honor ; but how the miserable being whose small- 
est necessity is unprovided for, who sees in her perplexities 
no friend, no help, no counsel, how she is to press through 
the crowd of selfish men, and to starve in silence, you are 
seldom at the trouble to consider. Did you read Mariana's 
letters ? They are the letters she wrote to 3- ou at that un- 
happy season. It was in vain that I attempted to approach 
you to deliver you these sheets : your savage brother-in-law 
had so begirt you, that craft and cunning were of no avail ; 
and at last, when he began to threaten me and Mariana with 
imprisonment, I had then to cease my efforts and renounce all 
hope. Does not every thing agree with what I told you? 
And does not Norberg's letter put the story altogether out 
of doubt?** 

"What letter? ** asked he. 

" Did you not find it in the pocket-book? " said Barbara. 

" I have not yet read all of them." 

" Give me the pocket-book : on that paper every thing de- 
pends. Norberg's luckless billet caused this sorrowful ]3er- 
plexity : another from his hand may loose tlie knots, so far as 
aught may still depend upon unravelling them." She took a 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 427 

letter from the book : Wilhelm recognized that odious writ- 
ing ; he constrained himself, and read, — 

'^Tell me, girl, how hast thou got such power over me? 
I would not have believed that a goddess herself could make 
a sighing lover of me. Instead of hastening towards me 
with open arms, thou shrankest back from me : one might 
have taken it for aversion. Is it fair that I should spend 
the night with old Barbara, sitting on a trunk, and but two 
doors between me and my pretty Mariana? It is too bad, I 
tell thee ! I have promised to allow thee time to think, not 
to press thee unrelentingly : I could run mad at every wasted 
quarter of an hour. Have not I given thee gifts according 
\o my power? Dost thou still doubt of my love? What 
wilt thou have ? Do but tell me : thou shalt want for noth- 
ing. "Would the Devil had the priest that put such stuff into 
thy head ! Why didst thou go to such a churl ? There are 
plenty of them that allow young people somewhat. In short, 
I tell thee, things must alter : in two days I must have an 
answer, for I am to leave the town ; and, if thou become not 
kind and friendly to me, thou shalt never see me more." . . . 

In this style the letter spun itself to great length ; turn- 
ing, to Wilhelm's painful satisfaction, still about the same 
point, and testifying for the truth of the account which he 
had got from Barbara. A second letter clenrly proved that 
Mariana, in the sequel, also had maintained her purpose ; 
and it was not without heartfelt grief, that, out of these and 
other papers, Wilhelm learned the history of the unlucky 
girl to the very hour of her death. 

Barbara had gradually tamed rude, regardless Norberg, 
by announcing to him Mariana's death, and leaving him in the 
belief that Felix was his son. Once or twice he had sent 
her money, which, however, she retained for herself ; having 
talked Aurelia into taking charge of the child. But, un- 
happily, this secret source of riches did not long endurec 
Norberg, by a life of riot, had impaired his fortune ; and, by 
repeated love-affairs, his heart was rendered callous to his 
supposed first-born. 

Probable as all this seemed, beautifully as it all agreed, 
Wilhelm did not venture to give way to joy. He still 
appeared to dread a present coming from his evil Genius. 

'' Your jealous fears," said Barbara, who guessed his 
mood of mind, '' time alone can cure. Look upon the child 
as a stranger one ; take stricter heed of him on that account ; 
observe his gifts, his temper, his capacities; and if you do 



428 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

not, by and by, discover in him the exact resemblance of 
yourself, your eyes must certainly be bad. Of this I can 
assure you, — were I a man, no one should foist a child on 
me ; but it is a happiness for women, that, in these cases, 
men are not so quick of sight." 

These things over, Wilhelm and Barbara parted : he was 
to take Felix with him ; she, to carry Mignon to Theresa, 
and afterwards to live in any place she pleased, upon a small 
annuity which he engaged to settle on her. 

He sent for Mignon, to prepare her for the new arrange- 
ment. '' Master," said she, " keep me with thee : it will do 
me good, and do me ill." 

He told her, that, as she was now grown up, there should 
be something further done for her instruction. " I am suffi- 
ciently instructed," answered she, " to love and grieve." 

He directed her attention to her health, and showed that 
she required continuous care, and the direction of a good 
physician. " Why care for me," said she, " when there are 
so many things to care for ? ' ' 

After he had labored greatly to persuade her that he could 
not take her with him, that he would conduct her to a place 
where he might often see her, she appeared as if she had not 
heard a word of it. " Thou wishest not to have me with 
thee," said she. " Perhaps it is better : send me to the old 
harper ; the poor man is lonely where he is." 

Wilhelm tried to show her that the old man was in com- 
fortable circumstances. "Every hour I long for him," re- 
plied the child. 

" I did not see," said Wilhelm, " that thou wert so fond 
of him when he was living with us." 

' ' I was frightened for him when he was awake ; I could 
not bear his eyes : but, when he was asleep, I liked so well to 
sit by him ! I used to chase the flies from him : I could not 
look at him enough. Oh ! he has stood by me in fearful mo- 
ments : none knows how much I owe him. Had I known 
the road, I should have run away to him already." 

Wilhelm set the circumstances in detail before her : he said 
that she had always been a reasonable child, and that, on 
this occasion also, she might do as she desired. " Reason is 
cruel," said she ; " the heart is better : I will go as thou re- 
quirest, onl}-^ leave me Felix." 

After much discussion her opinion was not altered ; and 
Wilhelm at last resolved on giving Barbara both the children, 
and sending them together to Theresa. This was the easier 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 429 

for him, as he still feared to look upon the lovely Felix as 
Ms son. He would take him on his arm, and carry him 
about : the child delighted to be held before the glass ; Wil- 
helm also liked, though unavowedly, to hold him there, and 
seek resemblances between their faces. If for a moment any 
striking similarity appeared between them, he would press 
the boy in his arms ; and then, at once affrighted by the 
thought that he might be mistaken, he would set him down, 
and let him nin away. " Oh," cried he, '' if I were to appro- 
priate this priceless treasure, and it were then to be snatched 
from me, I should be the most unhappy man on earth ! " 

The children had been sent away ; and Wilhelm was about 
to take a formal leave of the theatre, when he felt that in 
reality he had already taken leave, and needed but to go. 
Mariana was no more : his two guardian spirits had de- 
parted, and his thoughts hied after them. The fair boy 
hovered like a beautiful uncertain vision in the eyes of his 
imagination : he saw him, at Theresa's hand, running through 
the fields and woods, forming his mind and person in the 
free air, beside a free and cheerful foster-mother. Theresa 
had become far dearer to him since he figured her in company 
with Felix. Even while sitting in the theatre, he thought of 
her with smiles ; he was almost in her own case : the stage 
could now produce no more illusion in him. 

Serlo and Melina were excessively polite to him, when they 
observed that he was making no pretensions to his former 
place. A portion of the public wished to see him act again : 
this he could not accede to ; nor in the company did any one 
desire it, saving Frau Melina. 

Of this friend he now took leave ; he was moved at parting 
with her: he exclaimed, "Why do we presume to promise 
any thing depending on an unknown future ? The most slight 
engagement we have not power to keep, far less a purpose 
of importance. I feel ashamed in recollecting what I prom- 
ised to you all, in that unhappy night, when we were lying 
plundered, sick, and wounded, crammed into a miserable 
tavern. How did misfortune elevate mj courage ! what a 
treasure did I think I had found in my good wishes ! And 
of all this not a jot has taken effect ! I leave you as your 
debtor ; and my comfort is, that our people prized my prom- 
ise at its actual worth, and never more took notice of it." 

" Be not unjust to yourself," said Frau Melina: "if no 
one acknowledges what you have done for us, I at least will 
not forget it. Our whole condition had been different, if you 



430 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

had not been with us. But it is with our purposes as with 
our wishes. They seem no longer what they were, when 
they have been accomplished, been fulfilled ; and we think 
we have done, have wished for, nothing." 

"You shall not, by your friendly statement," answered 
Wilhelm, " put my conscience to peace. I shall always look 
upon myself as in your debt." 

"Nay, perhaps you are so," said Madam Melina, "but 
not in the manner you suppose. We reckon it a shame to 
fail in the fulfilment of a promise we have uttered with the 
voice. O my friend ! a worthy person by his very presence 
promises us much. The confidence he elicits, the inclination 
he inspires, the hopes he awakens, are unbounded : he is and 
continues in our debt, although he does not know it. Fare 
you well ! If our external circumstances have been happily 
repaired by your direction, in my mind there is, by your de- 
parture, produced a void which will not be filled up again so 
easily." 

Before leaving the city, Wilhelm wrote a copious sheet to 
Werner. He had before exchanged some letters ; but, not 
being able to agree, they had at length ceased to write. 
Now, however, Wilhelm had again approximated to his 
brother : he was just about to do what Werner had so ear- 
nestly desired. He could say, " I am abandoning the stage : 
I mean to join myself with men whose intercourse, in every 
sense, must lead me to a sure and suitable activity." He 
inquired about his property ; and it now seemed strange to 
him, that he had never, for so long a time, disturbed himself 
about it. He knew not that it is the manner of all persons 
who attach importance to their inward cultivation altogether 
to neglect their outward circumstances. This had been Wil- 
helm 's case : he now for the first time seemed to notice, that, 
to work effectively, he stood in need of outward means. He 
entered on his journey, this time, in a temper altogether dif- 
ferent from that of last ; the prospects he had in view were 
charming ; he hoped to meet with something cheerful by the 
way. 



MEISTER'S APrilENTICESIIIP. 431 



CHAPTER DC. 

On returning to Lothario's castle, Wilhelm found that 
changes had occurred. Jarno met him with the tidings, that, 
Lothario's uncle being dead, the baron had himself set out 
to take possession of the heritage. ''You come in time," 
said he, " to help the abb^ and me. Lothario has commis- 
sioned us to purchase some extensive properties of land in 
this quarter : he has long contemplated the bargain, and we 
have now got cash and credit just in season. The only point 
which made us hesitate was, that a distant trading-house had 
also views upon the same estates : at length we have deter- 
mined to make common cause with it, as otherwise we might 
outbid each other without need or reason. The trader seems 
to be a prudent man. At present we are making estimates 
and calculations : we must also settle economically how the 
lands are to be shared, so that each of us may have a fine 
estate." The papers were submitted to our friend: the 
fields, meadows, houses, were inspected ; and, though Jarno 
and the abbe seemed to understand the matter fully, Wil- 
helm could not help desiring that Theresa had been with them. 

In these labors several days were spent, and Wilhelm had 
scarcely time to tell his friends of his adventures and his 
dubious fatherhood. This incident, to him so interesting, 
they treated with indifference and levity. 

He had noticed, that they frequently in confidential con- 
versation, while at table or in walks, would suddenl}- stop 
short, and give their words another application ; thereby 
showing, at least, that they had on the anvil many things 
which were concealed from him. He bethought him of what 
Lydia had said ; and he put the greater faith in it, as one 
entire division of the castle had always been inaccessible to 
him. The way to certain galleries, particularly to the ancient 
tower, with which externally he was so well acquainted, he had 
often sought, and hitherto in vain. 

One evening Jarno said to him, "We can now consider you 
as ours, with such security, that it were unjust if we did not 
introduce you deeper into our mysteries. It is right that a 
man, when he first enters upon life, should think highly of 
himself, should determine to attain many eminent distinctions, 
should endeavor to make all things possible ; but, when his 
education has proceeded to a certain pitch, it is advantageous 
for him, that he learn to lose himself among a mass of men, 



432 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

that he learn to live for the sake of others, and to forget him- 
self in an activity prescribed by duty. It is then that he 
first becomes acquainted with himself, for it is conduct alone 
that compares us with others. You shall soon see what a 
curious little world is at your very hand, and how well you 
are known in it. To-morrow morning before sunrise be 
dressed and ready." 

Jarno came at the appointed hour : he led our friend 
through certain known and unknown chambers of the castle, 
then through several galleries ; till at last they reached a 
large old door, strongly framed with iron. Jarno knocked : 
the door went up a little, so as to admit one person. Jarno 
shoved in our friend, but did not follow him. Wilhelm found 
himself in an obscure and narrow stand : all was dark around 
him ; and, when he tried to go a step forward, he found him- 
self hemmed in. A voice not altogether strange to him 
cried, "Enter! " and he now discovered that the sides of 
the place where he was were merely hung with tapestry, 
through which a feeble light glimmered in to him. ' ' En- 
ter I * * cried the voice again : he raised the tapestry, and 
entered. 

The hall in which he now stood appeared to have at one 
time been a chapel : instead of the altar, he observed a large 
table raised some steps above the floor, and covered with a 
green cloth hanging over it. On the top of this, a drawn 
curtain seemed as if it hid a picture ; on the sides were 
spaces beautifully worked, and covered in with fine wire-net- 
ting, like the shelves of a library ; only here, instead of 
books, a multitude of rolls had been inserted. Nobody was 
in the hall : the rising sun shone through the window, rigjit 
on Wilhelm, and kindly saluted him as he came in. 

" Be seated ! " cried a voice, which seemed to issue from 
the altar. Wilhelm placed himself in a small arm-chair, which 
stood against the tapestry where he had entered. There was 
no seat but this in the room : Wilhelm had to be content with 
it, though the morning radiance dazzled him ; the chair stood 
fast, he could only keep his hand before his eyes. 

But now the curtain, which hung down above the altar, 
went asunder with a gentle rustling, and showed, within a 
picture-frame, a dark, empty aperture. A man stepped for- 
ward at it, in a common dress, saluted the astonished looker- 
on, and said to him, " Do you not recognize me? Among 
the many things which you would like to know, do you feel 
no curiosity to learn where your grandfather's collection of 



I 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 433 

pictures and statues are at present? Have you forgot the 
painting which you once so much delighted in ? Where, think 
you, is the sick king's son now languishing?" Wilhelm, 
without difficulty, recognized the stranger, whom, in that im- 
portant night, he had conversed with at the inn. " Per- 
haps,'* continued his interrogator, " we should now be less 
at variance in regard to destiny and character." 

Wilhelm was about to answer, when the curtain quickly 
flew together. " Strange ! " said Wilhelm to himself : " can 
chance occurrences have a connection? Is what we call 
Destiny but Chance? Where is my grandfather's collection? 
and why am I reminded of it in these solemn moments ? ' * 

He had not leisure to pursue his thoughts : the curtain 
once more parted ; and a person stood before him, whom he 
instantly perceived to be the country clergyman that had 
attended him and his companions on that pleasure-sail of 
theirs. He had a resemblance to the abbe, though he seemed 
to be a different person. With a cheerful countenance, in a 
tone of dignity, he said, ''To guard from error is not the 
instructor's duty, but to lead the erring pupil ; nay, to let 
him quaff his error in deep, satiating draughts, this is the 
instructor's wisdom. He who only tastes his error, will long 
dwell with it, will take delight in it as in a singular fe- 
licity ; while he who drains it to the dregs will, if he be not 
crazy, find it out." The curtain closed again, and Wilhelm 
had a little time to think. " WTiat error can he mean," said 
he within himself, " but the error which has clung to me 
through my whole life, — that I sought for cultivation where 
it was not to be found ; that I fancied I could form a talent 
in me, while without the smallest gift for it? " 

The curtain dashed asunder faster than before : an officer 
advanced, and said in passing, " Learn to know the men 
who may be trusted ! ' ' The curtain closed ; and Wilhelm 
did not long consider, till he found this officer to be the one 
who had embraced him in the count's park, and had caused 
his taking Jar no for a crimp. How that stranger had come 
hither, who he was, were riddles to our friend. "If so 
many men," cried he, " took interest in thee, know thy way 
of life, and how it should be carried on, why did they not 
conduct thee with greater strictness, with greater seriousness? 
Why did they favor thy silly sports, instead of drawing thee 
away from them ? ' ' 

" Dispute not with us ! " cried a voice. " Thou art saved, 
thou art on the way to the goal. None of thy follies wilt 

15~Goethe Vol. 7 



434 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

thou repent; none wilt thou wish to repeat; no luckier 
destiny can be allotted to a man." The curtain went asun- 
der, and in full armor stood the old king of Denmark in the 
space. " I am thy father's spirit," said the figure ; " and I 
depart in comfort since my wishes for thee are accomplished, 
in a higher sense than I myself contemplated. Steep regions 
cannot be surmounted save by winding paths : on the plain, 
straight roads conduct from place to place. Farewell, and 
think of me when thou enjoyest what I have provided for 
thee.'; 

Wilhelm was exceedingly amazed and struck : he thought 
it was his fathers voice; and j^et iu truth it was not: the 
present and the past alike confounded and perplexed him. 

He had not meditated long when the abbe came to view, 
and placed himself behind the green table. "Come hith- 
er! " cried he to his marvelling friend. He went, and 
mounted up the steps. On the green cloth lay a little 
roll. "Here is your indenture, ' ' said the abbe : ' 'take it to 
heart; it is of weighty import.'' Wilhelm lifted, opened 
it, and read: — 

INDENTURE. 

Art is long, life short, judgment difficult, opportunity 
transient. To act is easy, to think is hard; to act accord- 
ing to our thought is troublesome. Every beginning is 
cheerful ; the threshold is the place of expectation . The boy 
stands astonished, his impressions guide him: he learns 
sportfully, seriousness comes on him by surprise. Imitation 
is born with us : what should be imitated is not easy to dis- 
cover. The excellent is rarely found, more rarely valued. 
The height charms us, the steps to it do not : with the summit 
in our eye, we love to walk along the plain. It is but a part 
of art that can be taught : the artist needs it all. Who 
knows it half, speaks much, and is always wrong : who 
knows it wholly, inclines to act, and speaks seldom or late. 
The former have no secrets and no force : the instruction 
they can give is like baked bread, savory and satisfying for 
a single day ; but flour cannot be sown, and seed-corn ought 
not to be ground. Words are good, but they are not the 
best. The best is not to be explained by words. The spirit 
in which we act is the highest matter. Action can be under- 
stood and again represented by the spirit alone. No one 
knows what he is doing while he acts aright, but of what is 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 435 

rong we are always conscious. Whoever works with sym- 
bols only is a pedant, a hypocrite, or a bungler. There are 
many such, and they like to be together. Their babbling 
detains the scholar : their obstinate mediocrity vexes even 
the best. The instruction which the true artist gives us 
opens the mind ; for, where words fail him, deeds speak. 
The true scholar learns from the known to unfold the un- 
known, and approaches more and more to being a master. 

"Enough!" cried the abb^ : "the rest in due time. 
Now look round you among these cases.'* 

Wilhelm went, and read the titles of the rolls. With aston- 
ishment he found, "Lothario's Apprenticeship," " Jarno's 
Apprenticeship," and his own Apprenticeship placed there, 
with many others whose names he did not know. 

' ' May I hope to cast a look into these rolls ? ' ' 

" In this chamber there is now nothing hid from you." 

" May I put a question? " 

" Without scruple ; and you may expect a positive reply, 
if it concerns a matter which is nearest your heart, and ought 
to be so." 

"Good, then! Ye marvellous sages, whose sight has 
pierced so many secrets, can you tell me whether Felix is in 
truth my son? " 

" Hail to you for this question ! " cried the abb6, clapping 
hands for joy. "Felix is your son! By the holiest that 
lies hid among us, I swear to you Felix is your son ; nor, in 
our opinion, was the mother that is gone unworthy of you. 
Receive the lovely child from our hands : turn round, and 
venture to be happy." 

Wilhelm heard a noise behind him : he turned round, and 
saw a child's face peeping archly through the tapestry at the 
end of the room ; it was Felix. The boy playfully hid him- 
self so soon as he was noticed. " Come forward! " cried 
the abb6 : he came running ; his father rushed towards him, 
took him in his arms, and pressed him to his heart. " Yes ! 
I feel it," cried he, "thou art mine! What a gift of 
Heaven have I to thank my friends for ! Whence or how 
comest thou, my child, at this important moment? " 

" Ask not," said the abbe. " Hail to thee, young man ! 
Thy Apprenticeship is done: Nature has pronounced thee 
free." 

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Full text of "The complete works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe in ten volumes"
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THE OLD MAN'S TALE 



—German Emigrants 









THE COMPLETE WORKS OF 

Jobann Wolfgang von 3oetbe 

IN TEN VOLUMES 

VOLUME VIII 



WILHELM MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP 

AND TRAVELS 

THE RECREATIONS OF THE GERMAN 

EMIGRANTS 



TRANSLATED BY 

THOMAS CARLYLE 




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



■* 
- tHE LIBRARY 
ftR1G HAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY 
BRIG HAM ROVa UTAH 



CONTENTS. 



Meister's Apprenticeship, Page 

Book VIIJ ~ 9 

Meister's Travels, or the 

Renunciants • • 99 

The Recreations of the 

German Emigrants • 289 



1— Goethe Vol 8 



Meister's Apprenticeship 



PART II 



MEISTEE'S APPRENTICESHIP. 



book vm. 



CHAPTER I. 

Felix skipped into the garden; Wilhelm followed him 
with rapture : a lovely morning was displaying every thing 
with fresh charms ; our friend enjoyed the most delightful 
moment. Felix was new in the free and lordly world, nor 
did his father know much more than he about the objects 
concerning which the little creature was repeatedly and un- 
weariedly inquiring. At last they joined the gardener, who 
had to tell them the names and uses of a multitude of plants. 
Wilhelm looked on nature as with unsealed eyes : the child's 
new-fangled curiosity first made him sensible how weak an 
interest he himself had taken in external things, how small 
his actual knowledge was. Not till this day, the happiest of 
his life, did his own cultivation seem to have commenced : 
he felt the necessity of learning, being called upon to teach. 

Jarno and the abbe did not show themselves again till 
evening, when they brought a guest along with them. Wil- 
helm viewed the stranger with amazement ; he could scarce 
believe his eyes : it was Werner, who likewise, for a moment, 
hesitated in his recognition. They embraced each other ten- 
derly : neither of them could conceal that he thought the 
other greatly altered. Werner declared that his friend was 
taller, stronger, straighter ; that he had become more polished 
in his looks and carriage. u Something; of his old true- 
heartedness I miss, however, " added he. "That, too, will 

* 



6 MEISTEli'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

soon appear again," said Wilhelm, " when we have recovered 
from our first astonishment." 

The impression Werner made upon his friend was by no 
means so favorable. The honest man seemed rather to have 
retrograded than advanced. He was much leaner than of 
old ; his peaked face appeared to have grown sharper, his 
nose longer ; brow and crown had lost their hair ; the voice, 
clear, eager, shrill, the hollow breast and stooping shoulders, 
the sallow cheeks, announced indubitably that a melancholic 
drudge was there. 

Wilhelm was discreet enough to speak but sparingly of 
these great changes ; while the other, on the contrar}-, gave 
free course to his friendly joy. " In truth," cried he, "if 
thou hast spent thy time badly, and, as I suppose, gained 
nothing, it must be owned thou art grown a piece of man- 
hood such as cannot fail to turn to somewhat. Do not 
waste and squander me this, too, again : with such a figure 
thou shalt buy some rich and beautiful heiress." — "I see," 
said Wilhelm, smiling, " thou wilt not belie thy character. 
Scarcely hast thou found thy brother after long absence, 
when thou lookest on him as a piece of goods, a thing to 
speculate on and make profit b} T ." 

Jarno and the abbe* did not seem at all astonished at this 
recognition : they allowed the two to expatiate on the past 
and present as they pleased. Werner walked round aud 
round his friend, turned him to this side and to that, so as 
almost to embarrass him. " No ! " cried he, " such a thing 
as this I never met with, and } T et I know that I am not mis- 
taken. Th}' eyes are deeper, thy brow is broader ; thy nose 
has grown finer, thy mouth more lovely. Do but look at 
him, how he stands ; how it all suits and fits together ! Well, 
idling is the way to grow. But for me, poor devil," said he, 
looking at himself in the glass, " if I had not all this while 
been making store of money, it were over with me alto- 
gether." 

Werner had got Wilhelm's last letter : the distant trading- 
house, in common with which Lothario meant to purchase 
the estates, was theirs. On that business Werner had come 
hither, not dreaming that he should meat with Wilhelm on 
the way. The baron's lawyer came : tne papers were pro- 
duced ; Werner reckoned the conditions reasonable. k ' If 
you mean well," said he, "as you seem to do, with this 
young man, you will of yourselves take care that our part be 
not abridged : it shall be at my friend's option whether he 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 7 

will take the land and lay out a portion of his fortune on 
it." Jarno and the abbe protested that they did not need 
this admonition. Scarcely had the business been discussed 
in general terms, when Werner signified a longing for a game 
at ombre ; to which, in consequence, Jarno and the abb6 
set themselves along with him. He was now grown so 
accustomed to it, that he could not pass the evening without 
cards. 

The two friends, after supper, being left alone, began to 
talk and question one another very keenly, touching every 
thing they wished to have communicated. Wilhelm spoke 
in high terms of his situation, of his happiness in being re- 
ceived among such men. Werner shook his head, and said, 
11 Well, I see, we should believe nothing that we do not see 
with our eyes. More than one obliging friend assured me 
thou wert living with a wild young nobleman, wert supplying 
him with actresses, helping him to waste his money ; that, 
by thy means, he had quarrelled with every one of his rela- 
tions." — " For my own sake, and the sake of these worthy 
gentlemen, I should be vexed at this," said Wilhelm, " had 
not my theatrical experience made me tolerant to every sort 
of calumny. How can men judge rightly of our actions, 
which appear but singly or in fragments to them ; of which 
they see the smallest portion ; while good and bad take 
place in secret, and for most part nothing comes to light but 
an indifferent show? Are not the actors and actresses in a 
play set up on boards before them ; lamps are lit on every 
side ; the whole transaction is comprised within three hours ; 
yet scarcely one of them knows rightly what to make of it? " 

Our friend proceeded to inquire about his family, his 
young comrades, his native town. Werner told, with great 
haste, of changes that had taken place, of changes that were 
still in progress. " The women in our house," said he, " are 
satisfied and happy : we are never short of money. Oner 
half of their time they spend in dressing, the other in show- 
ing themselves when dressed. They are as domestic as a 
reasonable man could wish. My boys are growing up to 
prudent youths. I already, as in vision, see them sitting, 
writing, reckoning, running, trading, trucking : each of them, 
as soon as possible, shall have a business of his own. As 
to what concerns our fortune, thou wilt be contented with the 
state of it. When we have got these lands in order, thou 
must come directly home with me ; for it now appears as if 
thou, too, couldst mingle with some skill in worldly undertak- 



8 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

ings, thanks to thy new friends, who have set thee on the 
proper path. I am certainly a fool : I never knew till now 
how well I liked thee, — now when I cannot gape and gaze at 
thee enough, so well and handsome thou lookest. That is, in 
truth, another form than the portrait which was sent thy sis- 
ter, which occasioned such disputes at home. Both mother 
and daughter thought young master very handsome indeed, 
with his slack collar, half-open breast, large ruff, sleek, pen- 
dent hair, round hat, short waistcoat, and wide pantaloons ; 
while I, on the other hand, maintained that the costume was 
scarce two finger-breadths from that of harlequin. But now 
thou lookest like a man ; only the cue is wanting, in which I 
beg of thee to bind thy hair ; else, some time or other, they 
will seize thee as a Jew, and demand toll and tribute of 
thee." 

Felix, in the mean time, had come into the room ; and, as 
they did not mind him, he had laid himself upon the sofa, 
and was fallen asleep. u What urchin is this?" said Wer- 
ner. Wilhelm at that moment had not the heart to tell the 
truth, nor did he wish to lay a still ambiguous narrative be- 
fore a man who was by nature any thing but credulous. 

The whole party now proceeded to the lands, to view them, 
and conclude the bargain. Wilhelm would not part with 
Felix from his side : for the boy's sake, he rejoiced exceed- 
ingly in the intended purchase. The longing of the child for 
cherries and berries, the season for which was at hand, 
brought to his mind the days of his own youth, and the 
manifold duties of a father, to prepare, to procure, and to 
maintain for his family a constant series of enjo3 T ments. 
With what interest he viewed the nurseries and the buildings ! 
How zealously he contemplated repairing what had been 
neglected, restoring what had fallen ! He no longer looked 
upon the world with the eyes of a bird of passage : an edifice 
he did not now consider as a grove that is hastily put to- 
gether, and that withers ere one leaves it. Every thing that 
he proposed commencing was to be completed for his boy : 
every thing that he erected was to last for several genera- 
tions. In this sense his apprenticeship was ended : with 
the feeling of a father, he had acquired all the virtues of a 
citizen. He felt this, and nothing could exceed his joy. " O 
needless strictness of morality!" exclaimed he, ''while 
Nature in her own kindly manner trains us to all that we 
require to be. O strange demands of civil society ! which 
first perplexes and misleads us, then asks of us more than 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 9 

Nature herself. Woe to every sort of culture which destroys 
the most effectual means of all true culture, and directs us 
to the end, instead of rendering us happy on the way ! " 

Much as he had already seen in his life, it seemed as if 
the observation of the child afforded him his first clear view 
of human nature. The theatre, the world, had appeared 
before him, only as a multitude of thrown dice, every one 
of which upon its upper surface indicates u greater or a 
smaller value, and which, when reckoned up together, make 
a sum. But here in the person of the boy, as we might say, 
a single die was laid before him, on the many sides of which 
the worth and worthlessness of man's nature were legibly 
engraved. 

The child's desire to have distinctions made in his ideas 
grew stronger every day. Having learned that things had 
names, he wished to hear the name of every thing : supposing 
that there could be nothing which his father did not know, 
he often teased him with his questions, and caused him to 
iuquire concerning objects which, but for this, he would have 
passed without notice. Our innate tendency to pry into the 
origin and end of things was likewise soon developed in the 
boy. When he asked whence came the wind, and whither 
went the flame, his father for the first time truly felt the 
limitation of his own powers, and wished to understand how 
far man may venture with his thoughts, and what things he 
may hope ever to give account of to himself or others. The 
anger of the child, when he saw injustice done to any living 
thing, was extremely grateful to the father, as the symptom 
of a generous heart. Felix once struck fiercely at the cook 
for cutting up some pigeons. The fine impression this pro- 
duced on Wilhelm was, indeed, erelong disturbed, when he 
found the boy unmercifully tearing sparrows in pieces and 
beating frogs to death. This trait reminded him of many 
men, who appear so scrupulously just when without pas- 
sion, and witnessing the proceedings of other men. 

The pleasant feeling, that the boy was producing so fine 
and wholesome an influence on his being, was, in a short 
time, troubled for a moment, when our friend observed, that 
in truth the boy was educating him more than he the boy. 
The child's conduct he was not qualified to correct : its mind 
he could not guide in any path but a spontaneous one. The 
evil habits which Aurelia had so violently striven against had 
all, as it seemed, on her death, assumed their ancient privi- 
leges. Felix still never shut the door behind him be still 



10 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

would not sat from a plate ; and no greater pleasure could 
befall him than when he happened to be overlooked, and 
could take his bit immediately from the dish, or let the full 
glass stand, and drink out of the bottle. He delighted also 
very much when he could set himself in a corner with a book, 
and say with a serious air, " I must study this scholar stuff ! " 
though he neither knew his letters, nor would learn them. 

Thus, when Wilhelm thought how little he had done for 
Felix, how little he was capable of doing, there arose at times 
a restlessness within him, which appeared to counterbalance 
all his happiness. "Are we men, then," said he, "so selfishly 
formed, that we cannot possibly take proper charge of any 
one without us? Am I not acting with the boy exactly as I 
did with Mignon? I drew the dear child towards me: her 
presence gave me pleasure, yet I cruelly neglected her. 
What did I do for her education, which she longed for with 
such earnestness ? Nothing ! I left her to herself, and to 
all the accidents to which, in a society of coarse people, she 
could be exposed. And now for this boy, who seemed so 
interesting before he could be precious to thee, has thy heart 
ever bid thee do the smallest service to him ? It is time that 
thou shouldst cease to waste thy own years and those of 
others : awake, and think what thou shouldst do for thyself, 
and for this good being, whom love and nature have so 
firmly bound to thee." 

This soliloquy was but an introduction to admit that he 
had already thought and cared, and tried and chosen : he 
could delay no longer to confess it. After sorrow, often 
and in vain repeated, for the loss of Mariana, he distinctly 
felt that he must seek a mother for the boy ; and also that 
he could not find one equal to Theresa. With this gifted 
lady he was thoroughly acquainted. Such a spouse and 
helpmate seemed the only one to trust one's self to in such 
circumstances. Her generous affection for Lothario did not 
make him hesitate. By a singular destiny, they two had 
been forever parted : Tneresa looked upon herself as free ; 
she had talked of marrying, with indifference, indeed, but 
as of a matter understood. 

After long deliberation he determined on communicating 
to her every thing he knew about himself. She was to be 
made acquainted with him, as he already was with her. He 
accordingly began to take a survey of his histo^ ; but it 
seemed to him so empty of events, and in general so little to 
his credit, that he more than once was on the point of giving 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 11 

up his purpose. At last, however, he resolved on asking 
Jarno for the Roll of his Apprenticeship, which he had no- 
ticed lying in the tower : Jarno said it was the very time for 
that, and Wilhelm consequently got it. 

It is a feeling of awe and fear which seizes on a man of 
noble mind when conscious that his character is just about 
to be exhibited before him. Every transition is a crisis, and 
a crisis presupposes sickness. With what reluctance do we 
look into the glass after rising from a sick-bed ! The re- 
covery we feel : the effects of the past disease are all we see. 
Wilhelm had, however, been sufficiently prepared : events 
had already spoken loudly to him, and his friends had not 
spared him. If he opened the roll of parchment with some 
hurry, he grew calmer and calmer the farther he read. He 
found his life delineated with large, sharp strokes ; neither 
unconnected incidents, nor narrow sentiments, perplexed his 
view ; the most bland and general reflections taught, without 
shaming him. For the first time his own figure was pre- 
sented to him, not, indeed, as in a mirror, a second self, 
but as in a portrait, another self : we do not, it is true, rec- 
ognize ourselves in every feature ; but we are delighted that 
a thinking spirit has so understood us, that such gifts have 
been employed in representing us, that an image of what 
we were exists, and may endure when we ourselves are 
gone. 

Wilhelm next employed himself in setting forth the history 
of his life, for the perusal of Theresa: all the circumstances 
of it were recalled to memory by what he had been reading ; 
he almost felt ashamed that to her great virtues he had noth- 
ing to oppose which indicated a judicious activity. He had 
been minute in his written narrative : he was brief in the 
letter which he sent along with it. He solicited her friend- 
ship, her love if it were possible : he offered her his hand, 
and entreated for a quick decision. 

After some internal contest, whether it were proper to im- 
part this weighty business to his friends, — to Jarno and the 
abbe, — he determined not to do so. His resolution was so 
firm, the business was of such importance, that he could not 
have submitted it to the decision of the wisest and best of 
men. He was even cautious enough to carry his letter with 
his own hand to the nearest pest. From his parchment- 
roll it appeared with certainty enough, that in very many 
actions of his life, in which he had conceived himself to be 
proceeding freely and in secret, he had been observed, nay ? 



12 MEISTEirs APPRENTICESHIP. 

guided ; and perhaps the thought of this had given him an 
unpleasant feeling : and he wished at least, in speaking to 
Theresa's heart, to speak purely from the heart, — to owe 
his fate to her decision and determination only. Hence, in 
this solemn point, he scrupled not to give his overseers the 
slip. 



CHAPTER II. 

Scarcely was the letter gone, when Lothario returned. 
Every one was gladdened at the prospect of so speedily con- 
cluding the important business which the} 7 had in hand. 
Wilhelm waited with anxiety to see how all these many 
threads were to be loosed, or tied anew, and how his own 
future state was to be settled. Lothario gave a kindly salu- 
tation to them all : he was quite recovered and serene ; he 
had the air of one who knows what he should do, and who 
finds no hinderance in the way of doing it. 

His cordial greeting Wilhelm could scarcely repay. " This," 
he had to own within himself, " is the friend, the lover, bride- 
groom, of Theresa : in his stead thou art presuming to in- 
trude. Dost thou think it possible for thee to banish, to 
obliterate, an impression such as this? " Had the letter not 
been sent away, perhaps he would not have ventured sending 
it at all. But happily the die was cast : it might be, Theresa 
had already taken up her resolution, and only distance 
shrouded with its veil a happy termination. The winning or 
the losing must soon be decided. By such considerations 
he endeavored to compose himself, and yet the movements 
of his heart were almost feverish. He could give but little 
attention to the weighty business, on which, in some degree, 
the fate of his whole property depended. In passionate mo- 
ments how trivial do we reckon all that is about us, all that 
belongs to us ! 

Happily for him, Lothario treated the affair with magna- 
nimity, and Werner with an air of ease. The latter, in his 
violent desire of gain, experienced a lively pleasure in con- 
templating the fine estate which was to be his friend's. Lo- 
thario, for his part, seemed to be revolving very different 
thoughts. " I cannot take such pleasure in the acquirement 
of property," said he, "as in the justness of it." 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 13 

"And, in the name of Heaven," cried Werner, " is not 
this of ours acquired justly ? ' ' 

" Not altogether," said Lothario. 

4 ' Are we not giving hard cash for it ? ' ' 

" Doubtless," replied Lothario ; " and most probably you 
will consider what I am now hinting at as nothing but a 
whim. No property appears to me quite just, quite free of 
flaw, except it contribute to the state its due proportion." 

"What!" said Werner. "You would rather that our 
lands, which we have purchased free from burden, had been 
taxable ? ' ' 

"Yes," replied Lothario, "in a suitable degree. It is 
only by this equality with every other kind of property, that 
our possession of it can be made secure. In these new 
times, when so many old ideas are tottering, what is the 
grand reason why the peasant reckons the possession of the 
noble less equitable than his own? Simply that the noble is 
not burdened, and lies a burden on him." 

i ' But how would the interest of our capital agree with 
that? " said Werner. 

" Perfectly well," returned the other ; " if the state, for a 
regular and fair contribution, would relieve us from the feudal 
hocus-pocus ; would allow us to proceed with our lands ac- 
cording to our pleasure : so that we were not compelled to 
retain such masses of them undivided, so that we might part 
them more equally among our children, whom we might thus 
introduce to vigorous and free activity, instead of leaving 
them the poor inheritance of these our limited and limiting 
privileges, to enjoy which we must ever be invoking the 
ghosts of our forefathers. How much happier were men and 
women in our rank of life, if they might, with unforbidden 
eyes, look round them, and elevate by their selection, here a 
worthy maiden, there a worthy youth, regarding nothing fur- 
ther than their own ideas of happiness in marriage ! The 
state would have more, perhaps better citizens, and would 
not so often be distressed for want of heads and hands." 

"I can assure you honestly," said Werner, "I never in 
my life thought about the state : my taxes, tolls, and tributes 
I have paid, because it was the custom." 

" Still, however," said Lothario, " I hope to make a wor- 
thy patriot of you. As he alone is a good father who at 
table serves his children first ; so is he alone a good citizen 
who, before all other outlays, discharges what he owes the 
state." 



14 MEISTEB'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

By such general reflections their special business was ac* 
celerated rather than retarded. It was nearly over, when 
Lothario said to Wilhelm, " I must send you to a place 
where you are needed more than here. My sister bids me 
beg of you to go to her as soon as possible. Poor Mignon 
seems to be decaying more and more, and it is thought your 
presence might allay the malady. Besides telling me in per- 
son, my sister has despatched this note after me : so that 
you perceive she reckons it a pressing case." Lothario 
handed him a billet. Wilhelm, who had listened in extreme 
perplexity, at once discovered in these hasty pencil-strokes 
the hand of the countess, and knew not what to answer. 

"Take Felix with you," said Lothario: "the little ones 
will cheer each other. You must be upon the road to-morrow 
morning early : my sister's coach, in which my people trav- 
elled hither, is still here ; I will give you horses half the 
way, the rest you post. A prosperous journey to you ! 
Make many compliments from me, when you arrive : tell my 
sister I shall soon be back, and that she must prepare for 
guests. Our grand-uncle's friend, the Marchese Cipriani, 
Is on his way to visit us : he hoped to find the old man still 
in life ; they meant to entertain each other with their com- 
mon love of art, and the recollection of their early intimacy. 
The marchese, much younger than my uncle, owed to him 
the greater part of his accomplishments. We must exert 
all our endeavors to fill up, in some measure, the void which 
is awaiting him ; and a larger party is the readiest means." 

Lothario went with the abbe to his chamber ; Jarno had 
ridden off before • Wilhelm hastened to his room. There 
was none to whom he could unbosom his distress, none by 
whose assistance lie could turn aside the project, which he 
viewed with so much fear. The little servant came, request- 
ing him to pack : they were to put the luggage on to-night, 
meaning to set out by daybreak. Wilhelm knew not what to 
do: at length he cried, " Well, I shall leave this house at 
any rate ; on the road I may consider what is to be done ; 
at all events, I will halt in the middle of my journey ; I can 
send a message hither, I can write what I recoil from say- 
ing, then let come of it what will." In spite of this reso- 
lution, he spent a sleepless night : a look on Felix resting so 
serenely was the only thing that gave him any solace. " Oh, 
who knows," cried he, "what trials are before me! who 
knows bow sharply by-gone errors will yet punish me, how 
often good and reasonable projects for the future shall mis- 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 15 

carry! But this treasure, which I call my own, continue it to 
me, thou exorable or inexorable Fate ! Were it possible that 
this best part of myself were taken from me, that this heart 
could be torn from my heart, then farewell sense and under- 
standing ; farewell all care and foresight ; vanish thou ten- 
dency to perseverance ! All that distinguishes us from the 
beasts, pass away ! And, if it is not lawful for a man to 
end his heavy days by the act of his own hand, may speedy 
madness banish consciousness, before death, which destroj'S 
it forever, shall bring on his own long night." 

He seized the boy in his arms, kissed him, clasped him, 
and wetted him with plenteous tears. 

The child awoke : his clear e3'e, his friendly look, touched 
his father to the inmost heart. " What a scene awaits me," 
cried he, a when I shall present thee to the beautiful, un- 
happy countess, when she shall press thee to her bosom, 
which thy father has so deeply injured ! Ought I not to 
fear that she will push thee from her with a cry, when a 
touch of thee renews her real or fancied pain? " The coach- 
man did not leave him time for further thought or hesitation, 
but forced him into the carriage before day. Wilhelm 
wrapped his Felix well ; the morning was cold but clear : 
the child, for the first time in his life, saw the sun rise. 
His astonishment at the first fiery glance of the luminary, 
at the growing power of the light ; his pleasure and his 
strange remarks, — rejoiced the father, and afforded him a 
glimpse into the heart of the boy, before which, as over a 
clear and silent sea, the sun was mounting and hovering. 

In a little town the coachman halted, unyoked his horses, 
and rode back. Wilhelm took possession of a room, and 
asked himself seriously whether he would stay or proceed. 
Thus irresolute, he ventured to take out the little note, which 
hitherto he had never had the heart to look on : it contained 
the following words : ' ' Send thy young friend very soon : 
Mignon for the last two days has been growing rather worse. 
Sad as the occasion is, I shall be happy to get acquainted 
with him." 

The concluding words Wilhelm, at the first glance, had 
not seen. He was terrified on reading them, and instantly de- 
termined not to go. ''How?" cried he, " Lothario, know- 
ing what occurred between us, has not told her who I am? 
She is not, with a settled mind, expecting an acquaintance, 
whom she would rather not see : she expects a stranger, — 
and I eater ! I see her shudder and start back, I see her 



16 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

blush ! No, it is impossible for me to encounter such a 
scene!" Just then his horses were led out and yoked: 
Wilhelm was determined to take off his luggage and remain. 
He felt extremely agitated. Hearing the maid running up 
stairs to tell him, as he thought, that all was ready, he began 
on the spur of the instant to devise some pretext for continu- 
ing : his eyes were fixed, without attention, on the letter 
which he still held in his hand. " In the name of Heaven ! " 
cried he,. " what is this? It is not the hand of the countess : 
it is the hand of the Amazon ! ' ' 

The maid came in, requested him to walk down, and took 
Felix with her. " Is it possible," exclaimed he, " is it true? 
What shall I do? Remain, and wait, and certify myself? 
Or hasten, hasten, and rush into an explanation? Thou art 
on the way to her, and thou canst loiter? This night thou 
mayest see her, and thou wilt voluntarily lock thyself in 
prison? It is her hand; yes, it is hers! This hand calls 
thee : her coach is yoked to lead thee to her ! Now the rid- 
dle is explained : Lothario has two sisters ; my relation to 
the one he knows, how much I owe to the other is unknown 
to him. Nor is she aware that the wounded stroller, who 
stands indebted to her for his health, if not his life, has been 
received with such unmerited attention in her brother's 
house.' ' 

Felix, who was swinging to and fro in the coach, cried up 
to him, ''Father! Come, oh come! Look at the pretty 
clouds, the pretty colors ! " — " Yes, I come," cried Wilhelm, 
springing down-stairs; "and all the glories of the sky, 
which thou, good creature, so admirest, are as nothing to the 
moment which I look for." 

Sitting in the coach, he recalled all the circumstances of 
the matter to his memory. " So this is the Natalia, then, 
Theresa's friend ! What a discovery ! what hopes, what 
prospects ! How strange that the fear of speaking about the 
one sister should have altogether concealed from me the ex- 
istence of the other ! ' ' With what joy he looked on Felix ! 
He anticipated for the child', as for himself, the best recep- 
tion. 

Evening at last came on ; the sun had set ; the road was 
not the best ; the postilion drove slowly ; Felix had fallen 
asleep, and new cares and doubts arose in the bosom of our 
friend. "What delusion, what fantasies, are these that rule 
thee!" said he to himself. "An uncertain similarity of 
handwriting has at once assured thee, and given thee matter 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 17 

for the strangest castles in the air." He again brought out 
the paper ; in the departing light he again imagined that he 
recognized the hand of the countess : his eyes could no 
longer find in the parts what his heart had at once shown 
him in the whole. "These horses, then, are running with 
thee to a scene of terror ! Who knows but in a few hours 
they may have to bring thee back again? And if thou 
shouldst meet with her alone ! But perhaps her husband 
will be there, perhaps the baroness ! How altered will she 
be ! Shall I not fail, and sink to the earth, at sight of 
her?" 

Yet a faint hope that it might be his Amazon would often 
gleam through these gloomy thoughts. It was now night : 
the carriage rolled into a court-yard, and halted ; a ser- 
vant with ii link stepped out of a stately portal, and came 
down the broad steps to the carriage-door. "You have 
been long looked for," said he, opening it. Wilhelm dis- 
mounted, took the sleeping Felix in his arms : the first ser- 
vant called to a second, who was standing in the door with 
a light, " Show the gentleman up to the baroness." 

Quick as lightning, it went through Wilhelm's soul, " What 
a happiness ! Be it by accident or of purpose, the baroness 
is here ! I shall see her first : apparently the countess has 
retired to rest. Ye good spirits, grant that the moment of 
deepest perplexity may pass tolerably over ! ' ' 

He entered the house : he found himself in the most ear- 
nest, and, as he almost felt, the holiest, place that he had 
ever trod. A pendent, dazzling lustre threw its light upon a 
broad and softly rising flight of stairs, which lay before him, 
and which parted into two divisions at a turn above. Mar- 
ble statues and busts were standing upon pedestals, and 
arranged in niches : some of them seemed known to him. 
The impressions of our childhood abide with us, even in their 
minutest traces. He recognized a Muse, which had for- 
merly belonged to his grandfather, not indeed by its form 
or worth, but by an arm which had been restored, and some 
new-inserted pieces of the robe. He felt as if a fairy-tale 
had turned out to be true. The child was heavy in his arms : 
he lingered on the stairs, and knelt down, as if to place him 
more conveniently. His real want, however, was to get a 
moment's breathing-time. He could scarcely raise himself 
again. The servant, who was carrying the light, offered to 
take Felix ; but Wilhelm could not part with him. He had 
now mounted to an ante-chamber, in which, to his still 



18 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

greater astonishment, he observed the well-known picture of 
the sick king's son hanging on the wall. He had scarcely 
time to cast a look on it : the servant hurried him along 
through two rooms into a cabinet. Here, behind a light- 
screen, which threw a shadow on her, sat a young lady 
reading. u Oh that it were she ! " said he within himself at 
this decisive moment. He set down the boy, who seemed to 
be awakening ; he meant to approach the lady ; but the child 
sank together, drunk with sleep ; the lady rose and came to 
him. It was the Amazon ! Unable to restrain himself, he 
fell upon his knee, and cried, " It is she ! " He seized her 
hand, and kissed it with unbounded rapture. The child was 
lying on the carpet between them, sleeping softly. 

Felix was carried to the sofa : Natalia sat down beside 
him ; she directed Wilhelm to the chair which was standing 
nearest them. She proposed to order some refreshments ; 
these our friend declined : he was altogether occupied con- 
vincing himself that it was she, closely examining her 
features, shaded by the screen, and accurately recognizing 
them. She told him of Mignon's sickness, in general terms ; 
that the poor child was gradually consuming under the in- 
fluence of a few deep feelmgs ; that with her extreme ex- 
citability, and her endeavoring to hide it, her little heart 
often suffered violent and dangerous pains ; that, on any 
unexpected agitation of her mind, this primary organ of life 
would suddenly stop, and no trace of the vital movement 
could be felt in the good child's bosom ; that, when such 
an agonizing cramp was past, the force of nature would 
again express itself in strong pulses, and now torment the 
child by its excess, as she had before suffered by its defect. 

Wilhelm recollected one spasmodic scene of that descrip- 
tion ; and Natalia referred him to the doctor, who would 
speak with him at large on the affair, and explain more cir- 
cumstantially why he, the friend and benefactor of the child, 
had been at present sent for. "One curious change," Na- 
talia added, "you will find in her: she now wears women's 
clothes, to which she had once such an aversion." 

44 How did you succeed in this? " said Wilhelm. 

44 If it was, indeed, a thing to be desired," said she, 44 we 
owe it all to chance. Hear how it happened. Perhaps you 
are aware that I have constantly about me a number of little 
girls, whose opening minds I endeavor, as they grow in 
strength, to train to what is good and light. From my 
mouth they learn nothing but what I myself regard as true,* 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 19 

yet I can not and would not hinder them from gathering, 
among other people, many fragments of the common preju- 
dices and errors which are current in the world. If they 
inquire of me about them, I attempt, as far as possible, to 
join these alien and intrusive notions to some just one, and 
thus to render them, if not useful, at least harmless. Some 
time ago my -girls had heard, among the peasants' children, 
many tales of angels, of Knecht Rupert, and such shadowy 
characters, who, they understood, appeared at certain times 
in person, to give presents to good children, and to punish 
naughty ones. They had an idea that these strange visitants 
• were people in disguise ; in this I confirmed them : and, 
without entering into explanations, I determined, on the first 
opportunity, to let them see a spectacle of that sort. It 
chanced that the birthday of two twin-sisters, whose be- 
havior had been always very good, was near : I promised, 
that, on this occasion, the little present they had so well 
deserved should be delivered to them by an angel. They 
were on the stretch of curiosity regarding this phenomenon. 
I had chosen Mignon for the part ; and accordingly, at the 
appointed day, I had her suitably equipped in a long, light, 
snow-white dress. She was, of course, provided with a 
golden girdle round her waist, and a golden fillet on her 
hair. I at first proposed to omit the wings ; but the young 
ladies who were decking her insisted on a pair of large 
golden pinions, in preparing which they meant to show their 
highest art. Thus did the strange apparition, with a lily in 
the one hand, and a little basket in the other, glide in among 
the girls : she surprised even me. ' There comes the angel ! ' 
said I. The children all shrank back : at last they cried, ' It 
is Mignon ! ' yet they durst not venture to approach the 
wondrous figure. 

" 4 Here are your gifts,' said she, putting down the basket. 
They gathered around her, they viewed, they felt, they ques- 
tioned her. 

" 'Art thou an angel? ' asked one of them. 

" 4 I wish I were,' said Mignon. 

4 ' i Why dost thou bear a lily ? ' 

'"So pure and so open should my heart be : then were I 
happy.' 

4 ' ' What wings are these ? Let us see them ? ' 

44 4 They represent far finer ones, which are not yet un- 
folded.' 

4 'And thus significantly did she answer all their other 



20 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

childlike, innocent inquiries. The little party having satis- 
fied their curiosity, and the impression of the show beginning 
to abate, we were for proceeding to undress the little angel. 
This, however, she resisted : she took her cithern ; she seated 
herself here, on this high writing-table, and sang a little 
song with touching grace : — 

• 

" ' Such let me seem, till such I be: 

Take not my snow-white dress away! 
Soon from this dusk of earth I flee 
Up to the glittering lands of day. 

There first a little space I rest, 
Then wake so glad, to scenes so kind: , 

In earthly robes no longer drest, 
This band, this girdle, left behind. 

And those calm, shining sons of morn, 

They ask not who is maid or boy: 
No robes, no garments, there are worn; 

Our body pure from sin's alloy. 

Through little life not much I toiled, 
Yet anguish long this heart has wrung; 

Untimely woe my blossom spoiled : 
Make me again forever young.' 

" I immediately determined upon leaving her the dress,'' 
proceeded Natalia, " and procuring her some others of a 
similar kind. These she now wears ; and in them, I think, 
her form has quite a different expression." 

As it was already late, Natalia let the stranger go : he 
parted from her not without anxiety. "Is she married, or 
not?" asked he within himself. He had been afraid, at 
every rustling, that the door would open, and her husband 
enter. The serving-man, who showed him to his room, went 
off before our friend had mustered resolution to inquire re- 
garding this. His unrest held him long awake : he kept 
comparing the figure of the Amazon with the figure of his 
new acquaintance. The two would not combine : the former 
he had, as it were, himself fashioned ; the latter seemed as if 
it would almost new-fashion him. 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 21 



CHAPTER III. 

Next morning, while all was } 7 et quiet, he went about, 
viewing the house. It was the purest, finest, stateliest piece 
of architecture he had ever seen. "True art," cried he, 
" is like good company : it constrains us in the most delight- 
ful way to recognize the measure by which, and up to which, 
our inward nature has been shaped by culture." The im- 
pression which the busts and statues of his grandfather 
made upon him was exceedingly agreeable. With a longing 
mind he hastened to the picture of the sick king's son, and 
he still felt it to be charming and affecting. The servant 
opened to him various other chambers : he found a library, 
a museum* a cabinet of philosophical instruments. In much 
of this he could not help perceiving his extreme ignorance. 
Meanwhile Felix had awakened, and come running after 
him. The thought of how and when he might receive 
Theresa's letter gave him pain : he dreaded seeing Mignon, 
and in some degree Natalia. How unlike his present state 
was his state at the moment when he sealed the letter to 
Theresa, and with a glad heart wholly gave himself to that 
noble being ! 

Natalia sent for him to breakfast. He proceeded to a 
room where several tidy little girls, all apparently below ten 
years, were occupied in furnishing a table ; while another of 
the same appearance brought in various sorts of beverage. 

Wilhelm cast his eye upon a picture hung above the sofa : 
he could not but recognize in it the portrait of Natalia, little 
as the execution satisfied him. Natalia entered, and the 
likeness seemed entirely to vanish. To his comfort, it was 
painted with the cross of a religious order on its breast ; and 
he now saw another such upon Natalia's. 

" I have just been looking at the portrait here," said he ; 
61 and it seems surprising that a painter could have been at 
once so true and so false. The picture resembles you, in 
general, extremely well ; and yet it neither has your features 
nor your character." 

"It is rather matter of surprise," replied Natalia, "that 
the likeness is so good. It is not my picture, but the picture 
of an aunt, whom I resembled even in childhood, though she 
was then advanced in years. It was painted when her age 
was just about what mine is : at the first glance, every one 
imagines it is meant for me. You should have been ac- 



22 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

quainted with that excellent lady. I owe her much. A very 
weak state of health, perhaps too much employment with 
ner own thoughts, and, withal, a moral and religious scru- 
pulosity, prevented her from being to the world what, in 
other circumstances, she might have become. She was a 
light that shone but on a few friends, and on me especially." 

"Can it be possible," said Wilhelm, after thinking for a 
moment, while so many circumstances seemed to correspond 
so well, " can it be possible that the fair and noble Saint, 
whose meek confessions I had liberty to study, was your 
aunt? " 

" You read the manuscript? " inquired Natalia. 

" Yes," said Wilhelm, " with the greatest sympathy, and 
not without effect upon my life. What most impressed me in 
this paper was, if I may term it so, the purity of -being, not 
only of the writer herself, but of all that lay round her ; that 
self-dependence of nature, that impossibility of admitting 
any thing into her soul which would not harmonize with its 
own noble, lovely tone." 

" You are more tolerant to this fine spirit," said Natalia, 
" nay, I will say more just, than many other men to whom 
the narrative has been imparted. Every cultivated person 
knows how much he has to strive against a certain coarse- 
ness, both in himself and others ; how much his culture costs 
him ; how apt he. is, after all, in certain cases, to recollect 
himself alone, forgetting what he owes to others. How 
often has a worthy person to reproach himself for having 
failed to act with proper delicacy ! And when a fair nature 
too delicately, too conscientiously, cultivates, nay, if you 
will, overcultivates, itself, there seems to be no toleration, 
no indulgence, for it in the world. Yet such persons are, 
without us, what the ideal of perfection is within us, — 
models, not for being imitated, but for being aimed at. We 
laugh at the cleanliness of the Dutch ; but would our friend 
Theresa be what she is, if some such notion were not always 
present to her in her housekeeping? " 

" I see before me, then," cried Wilhelm, "in Theresa's 
friend, the same Natalia whom her amiable relative was so 
attached to ; the Natalia, who, from her youth, was so affec- 
tionate, so sympathizing, and helpful ! It was only out of 
such a line that such a being could proceed. What a pros- 
pect opens before me, while I at once survey your ancestors, 
and all the circle you belong to ! " 

"Yes," replied Natalia, " in a certain sense, the story of 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP, 23 

my aunt would give you the faithfullest picture of us. Her 
love to me, indeed, has made her praise the little girl too 
much : in speaking of a child, we never speak of what is 
present, but of what we hope for." 

Wilhelm, in the mean time, was rapidly reflecting that 
Lothario's parentage and early youth were now likewise 
known to him. The fair countess, too, appeared before him 
in her childhood, with the aunt's pearls about her neck : he 
himself had been near those pearls, when her soft, lovely 
lips bent down to meet his own. These beautiful remem- 
brances he sought to drive away by other thoughts. He ran 
through the characters to whom that manuscript had intro- 
duced him. u I am here, then," cried he, " in your worthy 
uncle's house ! It is no house, it is a temple ; and you are 
the priestess, nay, the Genius, of it: I shall recollect for life 
my impression yesternight, when I entered, and the old fig- 
ures of my earliest days were again before me. I thought 
of the compassionate marble statues in Mignon's song : but 
these figures had not to lament about me ; they looked upon 
me with a lofty earnestness, they brought my first years into 
immediate contact with the present moment. That ancient 
treasure of our family, the joy of my grandfather, I find 
here placed among so many other noble works of art ; and 
myself, whom nature made the darling of the good old man, 
my unworthy self I find here also, Heavens ! in what society, 
in what connections ! " 

The girls had, by degrees, gone out to mind their little 
occupations. Natalia, left alone with Wilhelm, asked some 
further explanation of his last remark. The discovery, that 
a number of her finest paintings and statues had at one time 
been the property of Wilhelm's grandfather, did not fail to 
give a cheerful stimulus to their discourse. As by that 
manuscript he had got acquainted with Natalia's house ; so 
now he found himself too, as it were, in his inheritance. At 
length he asked for Mignon. His friend desired him to have 
patience till the doctor, who had been called out into the 
neighborhood, returned. It is easy to suppose that the doc- 
tor was the same little, active man whom we already know, 
and who was spoken of in the 4 i Confessions of a Fair 
Saint." 

" Since I am now," said Wilhelm, '* in the middle of your 
family circle, I presume the abbe whom that paper mentions 
is the strange, inexplicable person whom, after the most sin- 
gular series of events, I met with in your brother's house ? 



24 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

Perhaps you can give some more accurate conception of 
him?" 

" Of the abbe there might much be said," replied Nata- 
lia : " what I know best about him, is the influence which he 
exerted on our education. He was, for a time at least, con- 
vinced that education ought, in every case, to be adapted to 
the inclinations : his present views of it I know not. He 
maintained, that with man the first and last consideration was 
activity, and that we could not act on any thing without the 
proper gifts for it, without an instinct impelling us to it. 
4 You admit,' he used to say, ' that poets must be born such ; 
you admit this with regard to all professors of the fine arts ; 
because you must admit it, because those workings of human 
nature cannot very plausibly be aped. But, if we consider 
well, we shall find that every capability, however slight, is 
born with us ; that there is no vague, general capability in 
men. It is our ambiguous, desultory education that makes 
men uncertain : it awakens wishes when it should be animat- 
ing tendencies ; instead of forwarding our real capacities, it 
turns our efforts towards objects which are frequently dis- 
cordant with the mind that aims at them. I augur better of 
a child, a youth, who is wandering astray on a path of his 
own, than of many who are walking aright upon paths which 
are not theirs. If the former, either by themselves or by 
the guidance of others, ever find the right path, that is to 
say, the path which suits their nature, they will never leave 
it ; while the latter are in danger every moment of shaking 
off a foreign yoke, and abandoning themselves to unre- 
stricted license.' " 

' k It is strange," said Wilhelm, "that this same extraor- 
dinary man should likewise have taken charge of me ; should, 
as it seems, have, in his own fashion, if not led, at least 
confirmed, me in my errors, for a time. How he will answer 
to the charge of having joined with others, as it were, to 
make game of me, I wait patiently to see." 

" Of this whim, if it is one," said Natalia, tl I have little 
reason to complain : of all the family I answered best with 
it. Indeed, I see not how Lothario could have got a finer 
breeding : but for my sister, the countess, some other treat- 
ment might have suited better ; perhaps they should have 
studied to infuse more earnestness and strength into her 
nature. As to brother Friedrich, what is to become of him 
cannot be conjectured : he will fall a sacrifice, I fear, to this 
experiment in pedagogy." 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 25 

"You have another brother, then? " cried Wilhelm. 

" Yes," replied Natalia : kw and a light, merry youth he is ; 
and, as they have not hindered him from roaming up and 
down the world, I know not what the wild, dissipated boy 
will turn to. It is a great while since I saw him. The only 
thing which calms my fears is, that the abbe, and the whole 
society about my brother, are receiving constant notice where 
he is and what he does." 

Wilhelm was about to ask Natalia her opinion more pre- 
cisely on the abbe's paradoxes, as well as to solicit informa- 
tion about that mysterious society ; but the physician entering 
changed their conversation. After the first compliments of 
welcome, he began to speak of Mignon. 

Natalia then took Felix by the hand ; saying she would lead 
the child to Mignon, and prepare her for the entrance of her 
friend. 

The doctor, now alone with Wilhelm, thus proceeded : " I 
have wondrous things to tell you, such as you are not antici- 
pating. Natalia has retired, that we might speak with 
greater liberty of certain matters, which, although I first 
learned them b}~ her means, her presence would prevent us 
from discussing freely. The strange temper of the child 
seems to consist almost exclusively of deep longing : the 
desire of revisiting her native land, and the desire for you, 
my friend, are, I might almost say, the only earthly things 
about her. Both these feelings do but grasp towards an 
immeasurable distance, both objects lie before her unattain- 
able. The neighborhood of Milan seems to be her home : in 
very earl} 7 childhood she was kidnapped from her parents by 
a company of rope-dancers. A more distinct account we 
cannot get from her, partly because she was then too young 
to recollect the names of men and places, but especially be- 
cause she has made an oath to tell no living mortal her abode 
and parentage. For the strolling-party, who came up with 
her when she had lost her way, and to whom she so 
accurately described her dwelling, with such piercing en- 
treaties to conduct her home, but carried her along with them 
the faster ; and at night in their quarters, when they thought 
the child was sleeping, joked about their precious capture, 
declaring she would never find the way home again. On this 
a horrid desperation fell upon the miserable creature ; but at 
last the Holy Virgin rose before her eyes, and promised that 
she would assist her. The child then swore within herself a 
sacred oath, that she would henceforth trust no human crea- 



26 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

ture, would disclose her history to no one, but live and die 
in hope of immediate aid from heaven. Even this, which I 
am telling you, Natalia did not learn expressly from her, 
but gathered it from detached expressions, songs, and child- 
like inadvertencies, betraying what they meant to hide." 

Wilhelm called to memory many a song and word of this 
dear child, which he could now explain. He earnestly re- 
quested the physician to keep from him none of the confes- 
sions or mysterious poetry of this peculiar being. 

"Prepare yourself," said the physician, "for a strange 
confession ; for a story with which you, without remember- 
ing it, have much to do, and which, as I greatly fear, has 
been decisive for the death and life of this good creature." 

"Let me hear," said Wilhelm : "my impatience is un- 
bounded." 

" Do you recollect a secret nightly visit from a female," 
said the doctor, " after your appearance in the character of 
Hamlet?" 

" Yes, I recollect it well," cried Wilhelm, blushing ; " but 
I did not look to be reminded of it at the present moment. ' ' 

" Do you know who it was? " 

" I do not ! You frighten me ! In the name of Heaven, 
not Mignon, surely? Who was it? Tell me, pray." 

" I know it not myself." 

" Not Mignon, then?" 

" No, certainly not Mignon ; but Mignon was intending at 
the time to glide in to you, and saw with horror, from a 
corner where she lay concealed, a rival get before her." 

" A rival ! " cried our friend. " Speak on : you more and 
more confound me." 

" Be thankful," said the doctor, " that you can arrive at 
the result so soon through means of me. Natalia and I, with 
but a distant interest in the matter, had distress enough to 
undergo before we could thus far discover the perplexed condi- 
tion of the poor, dear creature, whom we wished to help. By 
some wanton speeches of Philina and the other girls, by a 
certain song which she had heard Philina sing, the child's 
attention had been roused : she longed to pass a night beside 
the man she loved, without conceiving any thing to be implied 
in this beyond a happy and confiding rest. A love for you, 
my friend, was already keen and powerful in her little heart \ 
in your arms, the child had found repose from many a 
sorrow ; she now desired this happiness in all its fulness. 
If at one time she purposed requesting it as a favor, at 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 27 

another a secret horror would hold her back. At last that 
merry night and the excitement of abundant wine inspired 
her with the courage to attempt the adventure, and glide in 
to you on that occasion. Accordingly she ran before, to 
hide herself in your apartment, which was standing open ; 
but just when she had reached the top of the stairs, having 
heard a rustling, she concealed herself, and saw a female 
in a white dress slip into your chamber. You yourself 
arrived soon after, and she heard you push the large 
bolt. 

" Mignon's agony was now unutterable: all the violent 
feelings of a passionate jealousy mingled themselves with 
the unacknowledged longing of obscure desire, and seized 
her half-developed nature with tremendous force. Her 
heart, which hitherto had beaten violently with eagerness 
and expectation, now at once began to falter and stop ; it 
pressed her bosom like a heap of lead : she could not draw 
her breath, she knew not what to do ; she heard the sound of 
the old man's harp, hastened to the garret where he was, 
and passed the night at his feet in horrible convulsions." 

The physician paused a moment : then, as Wilhelm still 
kept silence, he proceeded, " Natalia told me, nothing in 
her life had so alarmed and touched her as the state of 
Mignon while relating this ; indeed, our noble friend accused 
herself of cruelty in having, by her questions and manage- 
ment, drawn this confession from her, and renewed by recol- 
lection the violent sorrows of the poor little girl. 

"'The dear creature,' said Natalia, 'had scarcely come 
so far with her recital, or, rather, with her answers to my 
questions, when she sank all at once before me on the ground, 
and, with her hand on her bosom, piteously moaned that the 
pain of that excruciating night was come back. She twisted 
herself like a worm upon the floor ; and I had to summon all 
my composure, that I might remember and apply such means 
of remedy for mind and body as were known to me.' " 

" It is a painful predicament } t ou put me in," cried Wil- 
helm, " by impressing me so vividly with the feeling of my 
manifold injustice towards this unhappy and beloved being, 
at the very moment when I am again to meet her. If she is 
to see me, why do 30U deprive me of the courage to appear 
with freedom? And shall I confess it to you? Since her 
mind is so affected, I perceive not how my presence can be 
advantageous to her. If you, as a physician, are persuaded 
that this double longing has so undermined her being as to 



28 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

threaten death, why should I renew her sorrows by my pres- 
ence, and perhaps accelerate her end? " 

" My friend," replied the doctor, " where we cannot cure, 
it is our duty to alleviate ; and how much the presence of a 
loved object tends to take from the imagination its destruc- 
tive power, how it changes an impetuous longing to a peace- 
ful looking, I could prove by the most convincing instances . 
Every thing in measure and with purpose ! For, in other 
cases, this same presence may rekindle an affection nigh 
extinguished. But do you go and see the child ; behave to 
her with kindness, and let us wait the consequence. " 

Natalia, at this moment coming back, bade Wilhelm follow 
her to Mignon. " She appears to feel quite happy with the 
boy," observed Natalia, " and I hope she will receive our 
friend with mildness." Wilhelm followed, not without re- 
luctance : he was deeply moved by what he had been hear- 
ing ; he feared a stormy scene of passion. It was altogether 
the reverse that happened on his entrance. 

Mignon, dressed in long, white, women's clothes, with her 
brown, copious hair partly knotted, partly clustering out in 
locks, was sitting with the boy Felix on her lap, and press- 
ing him against her heart. She looked like a departed spirit, 
he like life itself : it seemed as if Heaven and Earth were 
clasping one another. She held out her hand to Wilhelm 
with a smile, and said, u I thank thee for bringing back the 
child to me : they had taken him away, I know not how ; and 
since then I could not live. So long as my heart needs any 
thing on earth, thy Felix shall fill up the void." 

The quietness which Mignon had displayed on meeting 
with her friend produced no little satisfaction in the party. 
The doctor signified that Wilhelm should go frequently and 
see her ; that in body as in mind, she should be kept as 
equable as possible. He himself departed, promising to re- 
turn soon. 

Wilhelm could now observe Natalia in her own circle : one 
would have desired nothing better than to live beside her. 
Her presence had the purest influence pn the girls, and young 
ladies of various ages, who resided with her in the house, or 
came to pay her visits from the neighborhood. 

"The progress of your life," said Wilhelm once to her, 
" must always have been very even : your aunt's delineation 
of you in your childhood seems, if I mistake not, still to fit. 
It is easy to see that you never were entangled in your path. 
You have never been compelled to retrograde." 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 29 

44 This I owe to my uncle and the abbe," said Natalia. 
" who so well discriminated my prevailing turn of mind. 
From my youth upwards, I can recollect no livelier feeling 
than that I was constantly observing people's wants, and 
had an irresistible desire to make them up. The child that 
had not learned to stand on its feet, the old man that could 
no longer stand on his ; the longing of a rich family for chil- 
dren, the inability of a poor one to maintain their children ; 
each silent wish for some particular species of employment ; 
the impulse towards any talent ; the natural gifts for many lit- 
tle necessary arts of life, — were sure to strike me : my eyes 
seemed formed by nature for detecting them. I saw such 
things where no one had directed my attention : I seemed 
born for seeing them alone. The charms of inanimate 
nature, to which so many persons are exceedingly susceptible, 
had no effect on me : the charms of art, if possible, had 
less. My most delightful occupation was and is, when a 
deficiency, a want, appeared before me anywhere, to set 
about devising a supply, a remedy, a help for it. 

" If I saw a poor creature in rags, the superfluous clothes 
I had noticed hanging in the wardrobes of my friends im- 
mediately occurred to me ; if I saw children wasting for 
want of care, I was sure to recollect some lady I had found 
oppressed with tedium amid riches and conveniences ; if I 
saw too many persons crammed into a narrow space, I 
thought they should be lodged in the spacious chambers of 
palaces and vacant houses. This mode of viewing things 
was altogether natural, without the least reflection : so that 
in my childhood I often made the strangest work of it, and 
more than once embarrassed people by my singular proposals. 
Another of my peculiarities was this : I did not learn till late, 
and after many efforts, to consider money as a means of 
satisfying wants ; my benefits were all distributed in kind : 
and my simplicity, I know, was frequently the cause of 
laughter. None but the abbe seemed to understand me : he 
met me everywhere ; he made me acquainted with myself, 
with these wishes, these tendencies, and taught me how to 
satisfy them suitably." 

"Do you, then," said Wilhelm^ " in the education of your 
little female world, employ the method of these extraordinary 
men? Do you, too, leave every mind to form itself? Do 
you, too, leave your girls to search and wander, to pursue 
delusions, happily to reach the goal, or miserably lose them- 
selves in error? " 



30 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

"No," replied Natalia: "such treatment as that would 
altogether contradict my notions. To my mind, he who does 
not help us at the needful moment, never helps ; he who 
does not counsel at the needful moment, never counsels. 
I also reckon it essential, that we lay down and continually 
impress on children certain laws, to operate as a kind of hold 
in life. Nay, I could almost venture to assert, that it is 
better to be wrong by rule, than to be wrong with nothing but 
the fitful caprices of our disposition to impel us hither and 
thither ; and, in my way of viewing men, there always seems 
to be a void in their nature, which cannot be filled up, except 
by some decisive and distinctly settled law." 

"Your manner of proceeding, then," said Wilhelm, "is 
entirely different from the manner of our friends ? ' ' 

" Yes," replied Natalia ; " and you may see the unexam- 
pled tolerance of these men, from the fact, that they nowise 
disturb me in my practice, but leave me on my own path, 
simply because it is my own, and even assist me in every 
thing that I require of them." 

A more miuute description of Natalia's plans in mana- 
ging her children we reserve for some other opportunity. 

Mignon often asked to be of their society ; and this they 
granted her with greater readiness, as she appeared to be 
again accustoming herself to Wilhelm, to be opening her 
heart to him, and in general to have become more cheerful, 
and contented with existence. In walking, being easily 
fatigued, she liked to hang upon his arm. " Mignon," she 
would say, " now climbs and bounds no more ; yet she still 
longs to mount the summits of the hills, to skip from house 
to house, from tree to tree. How enviable are the birds ! 
and then so prettily and socially they build their nests 
too!" 

Erelong it became habitual for her to invite her friend, 
more than once every day, into the garden. When Wilhelm 
was engaged or absent, Felix had to take his place ; and, if 
poor Mignon seemed at times quite loosened from the earth, 
there were other moments when she would again hold fast to 
father and son, and seem to dread a separation from them 
more than any thing beside. 

Natalia wore a thoughtful look. " We meant," said she, 
" to open her tender little heart, by sending for you hither. 
I know not whether we did prudently." She stopped, and 
seemed expecting Wilhelm to say something. To him also 
it occurred, that, by his marriage with Theresa, Mignon, ir, 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 31 

the present circumstances, would be fearfully offended : but, 
in his uncertainty, he did not venture mentioning his project ; 
he had no suspicion that Natalia knew of it. 

As little could he talk with freedom, when his noble friend 
began to speak about her sister, to praise her good qualities, 
and to lament her hapless situation. He felt exceedingly 
embarrassed when Natalia told him he would shortly see the 
countess here. "Her husband," said she, "has now no 
object but replacing Zinzendorf in the Community, and, by 
insight and activity, supporting and extending that establish- 
ment. He is coming with his wife, to take a sort of leave : 
he then purposes visiting the various spots where the Com- 
munity have settled. They appear to treat him as he wishes : 
and I should not wonder if, in order to be altogether like his 
predecessor, he ventured, with my sister, on a vo}-age to 
America ; for, being already well-nigh convinced that a little 
more would make a saint of him, the wish to superadd the dig- 
nity of martyrdom has probably enough often flitted through 
his mind." 



CHAPTER IV. 

They had often spoken of Theresa, often mentioned her 
in passing ; and Wilhelm almost every time was minded to 
confess that he had offered her his heart and hand. A cer- 
tain feeling, which he was not able to explain, restrained 
him : he paused and wavered, till at length Natalia, with the 
heavenly, modest, cheerful smile she often wore, said to him, 
" It seems, then, I at last must break silence, and force my- 
self into your confidence ! Why, my friend, do 3^011 keep 
secret from me an affair of such importance to yourself, and 
so closely touching my concerns? You have made my friend 
the offer of your hand : I do not mix uncalled in the transac- 
tion ; here are my credentials ; here is the letter which she 
writes to you, which she sends you through my hands." 

" A letter from Theresa ! " cried he. 

"Yes, mein Herr ! Your destiny is settled: you are 
happy. Let me congratulate my friend and you on your 
good fortune." 

Wilhelm spoke not, but gazed out before him. Natalia 
looked at him: she saw that ho was pale. "Your joy is 



32 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP, 

strong,'* continued she: " it takes the form of terror, it de- 
prives you of the power to speak. My participation is not 
the less cordial that I show it you in words. I hope you will 
be grateful, for I may say my influence on the decision of 
your bride has not been small : she asked me for advice ; 
and as it happened, by a singular coincidence, that you were 
here just then, I was enabled to destroy the few scruples she 
still entertained. Our messages went swiftly to and fro : 
here is her determination ; here is the conclusion of the 
treaty ! And now you shall read her other letters : you shall 
have a free, clear look into the fair heart of your Theresa.' ' 

Wilhelm opened the letter, which she handed him unsealed. 
It contained these friendly words : — 

" I am yours, as I am and as you kuow me. I call you 
mine, as you are and as I know you. What in ourselves, 
what in our connection, wedlock changes, we shall study to 
adjust by reason, cheerfulness, and mutual good will. As it 
is no passion, but trust aud inclination, for each other that is 
leading us together, we run less risk than thousands of others. 
You will forgive me, will you not, if I still think often and 
kindly of my former friend : in return, I will press your 
Felix to my heart, as if I were his mother. If you choose to 
share my little mansion straightway, we are lord and master 
there ; and in the mean while the purchase of your land might 
be concluded. I could wish that no new arrangements were 
made in it without me. I could wish at once to prove that 
I deserve the confidence you repose in me. Adieu, dear, 
dear friend ! Beloved bridegroom, honored husband ! 
Theresa clasps you to her breast with hope and joy. My 
friend will tell you more, will tell you all." 

Wilhelm, to whose mind this sheet recalled the image of 
Theresa with the liveliest distinctness, had now recovered 
his composure. While reading, thoughts had rapidly alter- 
nated within his soul. With terror he discovered in his heart 
the most vivid traces of an inclination to Natalia : he blamed 
himself, declaring every thought of that description to be 
madness ; he represented to himself Theresa in her whole 
perfection : he again perused the letter, he grew cheerful, or, 
rather, he so far regained his self-possession that he could 
appear cheerful. Natalia handed him the letters which had 
passed between Theresa and herself : out of Theresa's we 
propose extracting one or two passages. 

After delineating her bridegroom in her own peculiar way, 
Theresa thus proceeded : — ^ 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP., 33 

Such is the notion I have formed of the man who 
now offers me his hand. What he thinks of himself, thou 
shall see by and by in the papers he has sent me, where 
he altogether candidly draws his own portrait: I feel 
persuaded that I shall be happy with him." 

' ' As for rank, thou knowest what my ideas have always 
been on this point. Some people look on disagreement 
of external circumstances as a fearful thing, and cannot 
remedy it. I wish not to persuade any one, I wish to act 
according to my own persuasion. I mean not to set others 
an example, nor do I act without example. It is interior 
disagreements only that frighten me : a frame that does 
not fit what it is meant to hold, much pomp and little 
real enjoyment, wealth and avarice, nobility and coarse- 
ness, youth and pedantry, poverty and ceremonies, these 
are the things which would annihilate me, however it may 
please the world to stamp and rate them." 

"If I hope that we shall suit each other, the hope is 
chiefly founded upon this, that he resembles thee, my dear 
Natalia, thee whom I so highly prize and reverence. Yes : 
he has thy noble searching and striving for the better, 
whereby we of ourselves produce the good which we sup- 
pose we find. How often have I blamed thee, not in silence, 
for treating this or that person, for acting in this or that 
case, otherwise than I should have done; and yet, in gen- 
eral, the issue showed that thou wert right. 'When we take 
people/ thou wouldst say, 'merely as they are, we make 
them worse : when we treat them as if they were what they 
should be , we improve them as far as they can be improved . ' 
To see or to act thus, I know full well is not for me. Skill, 
order, discipline, direction, that is my affair. I always 
recollect what Jarno said: 'Theresa trains her pupils, 
Natalia forms them.' Nay, once he went so far as to 
assert that of the three fair qualities, faith, love, and 
hope, I was entirely destitute. 'Instead of faith, 7 said he, 
'she has penetration; instead of love, she has steadfast- 
ness; instead of hope, she has trust.' Indeed, I will confess, 
that, till I knew thee, I knew nothing higher in the world 
than clearness and prudence : it was thy presence only that 
persuaded, animated, conquered me; to thy fair, lofty soul 
I willingly give place. My friend, too, I honor on the same 
principle: the description of his life is a perpetual seek- 
ing without finding, — not empty seeking, but wondrous, 

2— Goethe Vol 8 



34 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

generous seeking ; he fancies others may give him what can 
proceed from himself alone. So, love, the clearness of my 
vision has not injured me on this occasion more than others : 
I know my husband better than he knows himself, and I value 
him the more. I see him, yet I see not over him : all my 
skill will not enable me to judge of what he can accomplish. 
When I think of him, his image always blends itself with 
thine : I know not how I have deserved to belong to two 
such persons. But I will deserve it, b} r endeavoring to do 
my duty by fulfilling what is looked for from me." 

"If I recollect of Lothario? Vividly and daily. In the 
company which in thought surrounds me, I cannot want him 
for a moment. Oh, what a pity for this noble character, re- 
lated by an error of his youth to me, that nature has related 
him to thee ! A being such as thou, in truth, were worthier 
of him than I. To thee I could, I would, surrender him. 
Let us be to him all we can, till he find a proper wife ; and 
then, too, let us be, let us abide, together." 

" But what shall we say to our friends? " began Natalia. 
" Your brother does not know of it? " — " Not a hint ; your 
people know as little ; we women have, on this occasion, man- 
aged the affair ourselves. Lydia had put some whims into 
Theresa's head concerning Jarno and the abbe. There are 
certain plans and secret combinations, with the general 
scheme of which I am acquainted, and into which I never 
thought of penetrating farther. With regard to these, 
Theresa has, through Lydia, taken up some shadow of sus- 
picion : so in this decisive step she would not suffer any one 
but me to influence her. With my brother it had been already 
settled that they should merely announce their marriages to 
one another, not giving or asking counsel on the subject." 

Natalia wrote a letter to her brother : she invited Wilhelm 
to subjoin a word or two, Theresa having so desired it. They 
were just about to seal, when Jarno unexpectedly sent up his 
name. His reception was, of course, as kind as possible : he 
wore a sportful, merry air ; he could not long forbear to tell 
his errand. " I am come," said he, " to give you very curi- 
ous and very pleasing tidings : the}' concern Theresa. You 
have often blamed us, fair Natalia, for troubling our heads 
about so many things ; but now you see how good it is to 
have one's spies in every place. Guess, and let us see your 
skill for once! " 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 35 

The self-complacency with which he spoke tb j se words, the 
roguish mien with which he looked at Wilhelm and Natalia, 
persuaded both of them that he had found their secret. 
Natalia answered, smiling, "We are far more skilful than 
you think : before we even heard your riddle, we had put the 
answer to it down in black and white." 

With these words she handed him the letter to Lothario, 
satisfied at having met, in this wa} r , the little triumph and 
surprise he had meant for them. Jarno took the sheet witli 
some astonishment, ran it quickly over, started, let it drop 
from his hands, and stared at both his friends with an expres- 
sion of amazement, nay, of fright, which, on his countenance, 
was rare. He spoke no word. 

Wilhelm and Natalia were not a little struck : Jarno 
stepped up and down the room. " What shall I say? " cried 
he, u or shall I say it all? But it must come out : the per- 
plexity is not to be avoided. So secret for secret, surprise 
against surprise ! Theresa is not the daughter of her reputed 
mother ! The hinderance is removed : I came to ask you to 
prepare her for a marriage with Lothario." 

Jarno saw the shock which he had given his friends : they 
cast their eyes upon the ground. " The present case," said 
he, "is one of those which are worse to bear in company. 
What each has to consider in it, he considers best in solitude : 
I, at least, require an hour of leave." He hastened to the 
garden : Wilhelm followed him mechanically, yet without 
approaching near. 

At the end of an hour they were again assembled. Wil- 
helm opened the conversation. M Formerly," said he, 
u while I was living without plan or object, in a state of 
carelessness, or, I may say, of levity, friendship, love, affec- 
tion, trust, came towards me with open arms, they pressed 
themselves upon me ; but now, when I am serious, destiny 
appears to take another course with me. This resolution, 
of soliciting Theresa's hand, is probably the first that has 
proceeded altogether from myself. I laid nry plan con- 
siderately ; my reason fully joined in it : by the consent of 
that noble maiden, all my hopes were crowned. But now 
the strangest fate puts back my outstretched hand : Theresa 
reaches hers to me, but from afar, as in a dream ; I cannot 
grasp it, and the lovely image leaves me forever. So fare 
thee well, thou lovely image ! and all ye images of richest 
happiness that gathered round it ! " 

He was silent for a moment, looking out before him : Jarno 



36 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

was about to speak. " Let me have another word," cried 
Wilhelm, "for the lot is drawing which is to decide the 
destiny of all my life. At this moment, I am aided and 
confirmed by the impression which Lothario's presence made 
upon me at the first glance, and which has ever since con- 
tinued with me. That man well merits every sort of friend- 
ship and affection ; and, without sacrifices, friendship cannot 
be imagined. For his sake, it was easy for me to delude a 
hapless girl ; for his sake, it shall be possible for me to give 
away the worthiest bride. Return, relate the strange occur- 
rence to him, and tell him what I am prepared for." 

" In emergencies like this," said Jarno, " I hold that 
every thing is done, if one do nothing rashly. Let us take 
no step till Lothario has agreed to it. I will go to him : wait 
patiently for my return or for his letter. ' ' 

He rode away, and left his friends in great disquiet. They 
had time to reconsider these events, to think of them ma- 
turely. It now first occurred to them, that they had taken 
Jarno 's statement simply by itself, and without inquiring into 
any of the circumstances. Wilhelm was not altogether free 
from doubts ; but next day their astonishment, nay, their 
bewilderment, arose still higher, when a messenger, arriving 
from Theresa, brought the following letter to Natalia. 

" Strange as it may seem, after all the letters I have sent, 
I am obliged to send another, begging that thou wouldst 
despatch my bridegroom to me instantly. He shall be my 
husband, what plans soever they may lay to rob me of him. 
Give him the enclosed letter, only not before witnesses, 
whoever they may be ! " 

The enclosed letter was as follows : * ' What opinion will 
you form of your Theresa, when you see her all at once in- 
sisting passionately on a union which calm reason alone ap- 
peared to have appointed? Let nothing hinder you from 
setting out the moment you have read this letter. Come, my 
dear, dear friend ; now three times dearer, since they are 
attempting to deprive me of you." 

" What is to be done? " cried Wilhelm, after he had read 
the letter. 

" In no case that I remember," said Natalia, after some 
reflection, " have my heart and judgment been so dumb as 
in this : what to do or to advise I know not." 

" Can it be," cried Wilhelm vehemently, " that Lothario 
does not know of it? or, if he does, that he is but like us, 
the sport of hidden plans? Has Jarno, when he saw our 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 37 

letter, devised that fable on the spot? Would he have told 
us something different, if we had not been so precipitate? 
What can they mean? What intentions can they have? 
What plan can Theresa mean? Yes, it must be owned, 
Lothario is begirt with secret influences and combinations : 
I myself have found that they are active, that they take a 
certain charge of the proceedings, of the destiny, of several 
people, and contrive to guide them. The ulterior objects of 
these mysteries I know not ; but their nearest purpose, that 
of snatching my Theresa from me, I perceive but too dis- 
tinctly. On the one hand, this prospect of Lothario's hap- 
piness, which they exhibit to me, may be but a hollow show : 
on the other hand, I see my dear, my honored bride inviting 
me to her affection. What shall I do? What shall I for- 
bear?" 

"A little patience!" said Natalia: "a little time for 
thought. In these singular perplexities I know but this, that 
what can never be recalled should not be done in haste. To 
a fable, to an artful plan, we have steadfastness and prudence 
to oppose : whether Jarno has been speaking true or false 
must soon appear. If my brother has actually hopes of a 
union with Theresa, it were hard to cut him off forever from 
that prospect at the moment when it seems so kindly invit- 
ing him. Let us wait at least till we discover whether he 
himself knows any thing of it, whether he believes and 
hopes." 

These prudent counsels were confirmed by a letter from 
Lothario. " I do not send Jarno," he wrote : u a line from 
my hand is more to thee than the minutest narrative in the 
mouth of a messenger. I am certain Theresa is not the 
daughter of her reputed mother ; and I cannot renounce hope 
of being hers, till she, too, is persuaded, and can then decide 
between my friend and me, with calm consideration. Let 
him not leave thee, I entreat it ! The happiness, the life, of 
a brother is at stake. I promise thee, this uncertainty shall 
not be long." 

" You see how the matter stands," said she to Wilhelm, 
with a friendly air : " give me your word of honor that you 
will not leave the house ! ' ' 

" I give it ! " cried he, stretching out his hand : " I will 
not leave this house against your will. I thank Heaven, and 
my better Genius, that on this occasion I am led, and led 
by you." 

Natalia wrote Theresa an account of every thing, declar- 



38 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

ing that she would not let her friend away. She sent Lo- 
thario's letter also. 

Theresa answered, " I wondered not a little that Lothario 
is himself convinced : to his sister he would not feign to this 
extent. I am vexed, greatly vexed. It is better that I say 
no more. But I will come to thee, so soon as I have got 
poor Lydia settled : they are treating her cruelly. I fear we 
are all betrayed, and shall be so betra} T ed that we shall 
never reach the truth. If my friend were of my opinion, 
he would give thee the slip after all, and throw himself into 
the arms of his Theresa, whom none shall take away from 
him. But I, as I dread, shall lose him, and not regain 
Lothario. From the latter they are taking L}dia by show- 
ing him, afar off, the prospect of obtaining me. I will say 
no more : the entanglement will grow still deeper. Whether, 
in the mean time, these delightful positions in which we 
stand to each other may not be so pushed awry, so under- 
mined and broken down, that, when the darkness passes off, 
the mischief can no longer admit of remedy, time will show. 
If my friend do not break away, in a few days I myself 
will come and seek him out beside thee, and hold him fast. 
Thou marvellest how this passion can have gained the 
mastery of thy Theresa. It is no passion, but conviction : 
it is a belief, that, since Lothario can never be mine, this new 
friend will make me happy. Tell him so, in the name of 
the little boy that sat with him underneath the oak, and 
thanked him for his sympathy. Tell it him in the name of 
Theresa, who met his offers with a hearty openness. My 
first dream of living with Lothario has wandered far away 
from my soul : the dream of living with my other friend is 
yet wholly present to me. Do they hold me so light as to 
think that it were easy to exchange the former with the 
latter?" 

4i I depend on you," said Natalia to Wilhelm, handing him 
the letter : " you will not leave me. Consider that the com- 
fort of my life is in your hands. My being is so intimately 
bound and interwoven with my brother's, that he feels no 
sorrow which I do not feel, no joy which does not likewise 
gladden me. Nay, I may truly say, through him alone I have 
experienced that the heart can be affected and exalted ; that 
in the world there may be joy, love, and an emotion which 
contents the soul beyond its utmost want." 

She stopped: Wilhelm took her hand, and cried, "Oh, 
continue ! This is the time for a true, mutual disclosure of 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 39 

our thoughts : it never was more necessary for us to be well 
acquainted with each other." 

4t Yes, my friend ! " said she, smiling, with her quiet, soft, 
indescribable dignity: M perhaps it is not out of season, if 
I tell you that the whole of what so many books, of what the 
world, holds up to us and names love, has always seemed to 
me a fable." 

4 c You have never loved ? ' ' cried Wilhelm. 

" Never or always ! " said Natalia. 



CHAPTER V. 

During this conversation they kept walking up and down 
the garden ; and Natalia gathered various flowers of singular 
forms, entirely unknown to Wilhelm, who began to ask their 
names, and occupy himself about them. 

" You know not," said Natalia, " for whom I have been 
plucking these? I intend them for my uncle, whom we are 
to visit. The sun is shining even now so bright on the Hall 
of the Past, I must lead you in this moment ; and I never 
go to it without a few of the flowers which my uncle liked 
particularly, in my hand. He was a peculiar man, suscep- 
tible of very strange impressions. For certain plants and 
animals, for certain neighborhoods and persons, nay, for 
certain sorts of minerals, he had an especial love, which he 
was rarely able to explain. ' Had I not,' he would often 
sa} 7 , ' from youth, withstood myself, and striven to form my 
judgment upon wide and general principles, I had been the 
narrowest and most intolerable person living. For nothing 
can be more intolerable than circumscribed peculiarity, in 
one from whom a pure and suitable activity might be re- 
quired.' And yet he was obliged to confess that life and 
breath would, as it were, leave him, if he did not now and 
then indulge himself, not from time to time allow himself a 
brief and passionate enjoyment of what he could not always 
praise and justify. l It is not my fault,' said he, ' if I have 
not brought my inclinations and my reason into perfect har- 
mony.' On such occasions he would joke with me, and say, 
fc Natalia may be looked upon as happy while she lives : her 
nature asks nothing which the world does not wish and use.' " 



40 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

So speaking, they arrived again at the house. Natalia led 
him through a spacious passage to a door, before which lay 
two granite sphinxes. The door itself was in the Egyptian 
fashion, somewhat narrower above than below ; and its brazen 
leaves prepared one for a serious or even a gloomy feeling. 
Wilhelm was, in consequence, agreeably surprised, when his 
expectation issued in a sentiment of pure, cheerful serenity, 
as he entered a hall where art and life took away all recol- 
lection of death and the grave. In the walls all round, a 
series of proportionable arches had been hollowed out, and 
large sarcophaguses stood in them : among the pillars in the 
intervals between them smaller openings might be seen, 
adorned with urns and similar vessels. The remaining spaces 
of the walls and vaulted roof were regularly divided ; and 
between bright and variegated borders, within garlands and 
other ornaments, a multitude of cheerful and significant 
figures had been painted upon grounds of different sizes. 
The body of the edifice was covered with that fine, yellow 
marble, which passes into reddish : clear blue stripes of a 
chemical substance, happily imitating azure stone, while they 
satisfied the eye with contrast, gave unity and combination 
to the whole. All this pomp and decoration showed itself 
in the chastest architectural forms : and thus every one who 
entered felt as if exalted above himself ; while the co-operat- 
ing products of art, for the first time, taught him what man 
is and what he may become. 

Opposite the door, on a stately sarcophagus, lay a marble 
figure of a noble-looking man, reclined upon a pillow. He 
held a roll before him, and seemed to look at it with still at- 
tention. It was placed so that you could read with ease 
the words which stood there : Think of living. 

Natalia took away a withered bunch of flowers, and laid 
the fresh one down before the figure of her uncle. For it 
was her uncle whom the marble represented. Wilhelm 
thought he recognized the features of the venerable gentle- 
man whom he had seen when lying wounded in the green 
of the forest. " Here he and I passed many an hour," said 
Natalia, "while the hall was getting ready. In his latter 
years, he had gathered several skilful artists round him ; and 
his chief delight was to invent or superintend the drawings 
and cartoons for these pictures." 

Wilhelm could not satisfy himself with looking at the objects 
which surrounded him. "What a life," exclaimed he, " in 
this Hall of the Past ! One might with equal justice name 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 41 

it Hall of the Present and the Future. Such all were, such 
all will be. There is nothing transitory but the individual 
who looks at and enjoys it. Here, this figure of the mother 
pressing her infant to her bosom will survive many genera- 
tions of happy mothers. Centuries hence, perhaps some 
father will take pleasure in contemplating this bearded man, 
who has laid aside his seriousness, and is playing with his 
son. Thus shame-faced will the bride sit for ages, and, amid 
her silent wishes, need that she be comforted, that she be 
spoken to ; thus impatient will the bridegroom listen on the 
threshold whether he may enter." 

The figures Wilhelm was surveying with such rapture were 
of almost boundless number and variety. From the first 
jocund impulse of the child, merely to employ its every limb 
in sport, up to the peaceful, sequestered earnestness of the 
sage, you might, in fair and living order, see delineated how 
man possesses no capacity or tendency without employing 
and enjoying it. From the first soft, conscious feeling, when 
the maiden lingers in pulling up her pitcher, and looks with 
satisfaction at her image in the clear fountain, to those high 
solemnities when kings and nations invoke the gods at the 
altar to witness their alliances, all was depicted, all was 
forcible and full of meaning. 

It was a world, it was a heaven, that in this abode sur- 
rounded the spectator ; and beside the thoughts which those 
polished forms suggested, beside the feelings they awoke, 
there still seemed something further to be present, something 
by which the whole man felt himself laid hold of. Wilhelm, 
too, observed this, though unable to account for it. " What 
is this," exclaimed he, u which independently of all signi- 
fication, without any sympathy that human incidents and 
fortunes may inspire us with, acts on me so strongly and so 
gracefully? It speaks to me from the whole, it speaks from 
every part ; though I have not fully understood the former, 
though I do not specially apply the latter to myself. What 
enchantment breathes from these surfaces, these lines, these 
heights and breadths, these masses and colors ! What is it 
that makes these figures so delightful, even when slightly 
viewed, and merely in the light of decorations? Yes, I feel 
it : one might tarry here, might rest, might view the whole, 
and be happy ; and yet feel and think something altogether 
different from aught that stood before his eyes," 

And certainly, if we were able to describe how happily 
the whole was subdivided, how every thing determined by its 



12 MEESTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

place, by combination or by contrast, by uniformity or by 
variety, appeared exactly as it should have done, producing 
an effect as perfect as distinct, we should transport the reader 
to a scene from which he would not be in haste to stir. 

Four large marble candelabras rose in the corners of the 
hall : four smaller ones were in the midst of it, around a 
very beautifully worked sarcophagus, which, judging from 
its size, might once have held a young person of middle 
stature. 

Natalia paused beside this monument : she laid her hand 
upon it as she said, "My worthy uncle had a great attach- 
ment to this fine antique. 4 It is not,' he would often say, 
' the first blossoms alone that drop ; such yon can keep above, 
in these little spaces ; but fruits also, which, hanging on their 
twigs, long give us the fairest hope, whilst a secret worm 
is preparing their too early ripeness and their quick decay.' 
I fear," continued she, u his words have been prophetic of 
that dear little girl, who seems withdrawing gradually from 
our cares, and bending to this peaceful dwelling." 

As they were about to go, Natalia stopped, and said, M There 
is something still which merits your attention. Observe 
these half-round openings aloft on both sides. Here the choir 
can stand concealed while singing : these iron ornaments 
below the cornice serve for fastening on the tapestry, which, 
by order of my uncle, must be hung round at every burial. 
Music, particularly song, was a pleasure he could not live 
without ; and it was one of his peculiarities, that he wished 
the singer not to be in view. ' In this respect,' he would 
say, ' they spoil us at the theatre : the music there is, 
as it were, subservient to the eye ; it accompanies move- 
ments, not emotions. In oratorios and concerts, the form of 
the musician constantly disturbs us ; true music is intended 
for the ear alone : a tine voice is the most universal thing 
that can be figured ; and, while the narrow individual that 
uses it presents himself before the eye, he cannot fail to 
trouble the effect of that pure universality. The person whom 
I am to speak with, I must see ; because it is a solitary man. 
whose form and character give worth or worthlessness to 
what he says : but, on the other hand, whoever sings to me 
must be invisible ; his form must not confuse me, or corrupt 
my judgment. Here it is but one human organ speaking to 
another : it is not spirit speaking to spirit, not a thousand- 
fold world to the eye, not a heaven to the man.' On the 
same principles, in respect of instrumental music, he required 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 43 

that the orchestra should as much as possible be hid 5 because, 
by the mechauical exertions, by the mean and awkward ges- 
tures of the performers, our feelings are so much dispersed 
and perplexed. Accordingly, he always used to shut his 
eyes while hearing music ; thereby to concentrate his whole 
being on the single pure enjoyment of the ear." 

They were about to leave the hall, when they heard the 
children running hastily along the passage, and Felix crying, 
" No, I! No, IP' 

Mignon rushed in at the open door : she was foremost, but 
out of breath, and could not speak a word. Felix, still at 
some distance, shouted out, "Mamma Theresa is come! " 
The children had run a race, as it seemed, to bring the news. 
Mignon was lying in Natalia's arms : her heart was beating 
vehemently. 

'* Naughty child," said Natalia, "art thou not forbidden 
to make violent exertions? See how thy heart is beating ! " 

kt Let it break ! " said Mignon with a deep sigh : " it has 
beat too long." 

They had scarcely composed themselves from this surprise, 
this sort of consternation, when Theresa entered. She flew 
to Natalia, clasped her and Mignon in her arms. Then, 
turning round to Wilhelm, she looked at him with her clear 
eyes, and said *" Well, my friend, how it is with you? 
You have not let them cheat you ? ' ' He made a step towards 
her: she sprang to him, and hung upon his neck. "O my 
Theresa ! " cried he. 

• k My friend, my love, my husband ! Yes, forever thine ! " 
cried she, amid the warmest kisses. 

Felix pulled her by the gown, and cried, " Mamma Theresa, 
I am here too ! ' Natalia stood, and looked before her : 
Mignon on a sudden clapped her left hand on her heart, and, 
stretching out the right arm violently, fell with a shriek at 
Natalia's feet, as dead. 

The fright was great : no motion of the heart or pulse was 
to be traced. Wilhelm took her on his arm, and hastily 
carried her away : the body hung lax over his shoulders. 
The presence of the doctor was of small avail : he and the 
young surgeon, whom we know already, strove in vain. The 
dear little creature could not be recalled to life. 

Natalia beckoned to Theresa : the latter took her friend by 
the hand, and led him from the room. Pie was dumb, not 
uttering a word : he durst not meet her eyes. Pie sat down 
with her upon the sofa, where he had first found Natalia. 



44 



MEISTERS APPRENTICESHIP. 



He thought with great rapidity along a series of fateful in- 
cidents, or, rather, he did not think, but let his soul be worked 
on by the thoughts which would not leave it. There are 
moments in life when past events, like winged shuttles, dart 
to and fro before us, and by their incessant movements 
weave a web which we ourselves, in a greater or less degree, 
have spun and put upon the loom. " My friend, my love ! " 
said Theresa, breaking silence, as she took him by the hand, 
4 'let us stand together firmly in this hour, as we perhaps 
shall often have to do in similar hours. These are occur- 
rences which it takes two united hearts to suffer. Think, 
my friend, feel, that thou art not alone : show that thou lovest 
thy Theresa by imparting thy sorrows to her! " She em- 
braced him, and drew him softly to her bosom : he clasped 
her in his arms, and pressed her strongly towards him. 
" The poor child," cried he, u used in mournful moments to 
seek shelter and protection in my unstable bosom : let the 
stability of thine assist me in this heavy hour." They held 
each other fast ; he felt her heart beat against his breast ; 
but in his spirit all was desolate and void : only the figures 
of Mignon and Natalia flitted like shadows across the waste 
of his imagination. 

Natalia entered. " Give us thy blessing ! " cried Theresa : 
" let us, in. this melancholy moment, be united before thee ! " 
Wilhelm had hid his face upon Theresa's neck : he was so 
far relieved that he could weep. He did not hear Natalia 
come ; he did not see her ; but, at the sound of her voice, his 
tears redoubled. kk What God has joined I will not part," 
she answered, smiling, " but to unite you is not in my power ; 
nor am I gratified to see that sorrow and sympathy seem al- 
together to have banished from 3-our hearts the recollection 
of my brother." At these words, Wilhelm started from 
Theresa's arms. "Whither are you going?" cried the 
ladies. " Let me see the child," said he, " whom I have 
killed ! Misfortune, when we look upon it with our eyes, is 
smaller than when our imagination sinks the evil down into 
the recesses of the soul. Let us view the departed angel ! 
Her serene countenance will say to us that it is well with 
her." As his friends could not restrain the agitated youth, 
they followed him ; but the worthy doctor with the surgeon 
met them, and prevented them from coming near the dead. 
" Keep away from this mournful object," said he, " and 
allow me, so far as 1 am able, to give some continuance to 
these remains. On this dear and singular being I will now 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 45 

display the beautiful art, not only of embalming bodies, but 
of retaining in them a look of life. As I foresaw her death, 
the preparations are already made : with these helps I shall 
undoubtedly succeed. Give me but a few days, and ask not 
to see the child again till I have brought her to the Hall of 
the Past." 

The young surgeon had in his hands that well-known case 
of instruments. " From whom can he have got it? " Wil- 
helm asked the doctor. " I know it very well," replied 
Natalia: "he has it from his father, who dressed your 
wounds when we found you in the forest." 

" Then, I have not been mistaken ! I recognized the band 
at once ! " cried Wilhelm. "Oh, get it for me ! It was this 
that first gave me any hint of my unknown benefactress. 
What weal and woe will such a thing survive ! Beside how 
many sorrows has this band already been, and its threads 
still hold together ! How many men's last moments has it 
witnessed, and its colors are not yet faded ! It was near me 
in one of the fairest hours of my existence, when I lay 
wounded on the ground, and your helpful form appeared 
before me, and the child whom we are now lamenting sat 
with its bloody hair, busied with the tenderest care to save 
my life!" 

It was not long that our friends could converse about this 
sad occurrence, that Theresa could inquire about the child, 
and the probable cause of its unexpected death ; for strangers 
were announced, who, on making their appearance, proved 
to be well-known strangers. Lothario, Jarno, and the abbe 
entered. Natalia met her brother : among the rest there was 
a momentaiy silence. Theresa, smiling on Lothario, said, 
" You scarcely expected to find me here ; of course, it would 
not have been advisable that we should visit one another at 
the present time : however, after such an absence, take my 
cordial welcome." 

Lothario took her hand, and answered, "If we are to 
suffer and renounce, it may as well take place in the presence 
of the object whom we 3 ove and wish for. I desire no in- 
fluence on your determination : my confidence in your heart, 
in your understanding, and clear sense, is still so great, that 
I willingly commit to your disposal my fate and that of my 
friend." 

The conversation turned immediately to general, nay, we 
may say, to trivial, topics. The company soon separated into 
(single pairs, for walking. Natalia was with her brother 



46 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

Theresa with the abbe : cur friend was left with Jarno in. 
the castle. 

The appearance of the guests at the moment when a heavy 
sorrow was oppressing Wilhelm had, instead of dissipating 
his attention, irritated him, and made him worse : he was 
fretful and suspicious, and unable or uncareful to conceal it, 
when Jarno questioned him about his sulky silence. '* What 
is the use of saying more? " cried Wilhelm. " Lothario with 
his helpers is come ; and it were strange if those mysterious 
watchmen of the tower, who are constantly so busy, did not 
now exert their influence on us, to effect I know not what 
strange purpose. So far as I have known these saintly 
gentlemen, it seems to be in every case their laudable en- 
deavor to separate the united and to unite the separated. 
What sort of web their weaving will produce may probably 
to unholy eyes be forever a riddle." 

'* You are cross and bitter," said the other: "• that is as 
it should be. Would you get into a proper passion, it were 
still better." 

" That, too, might come about," said Wilhelm : u I fear 
much some of you are in the mind to load my patience, 
natural and acquired, be3'ond what it will bear." 

li In the mean time," said the other, " till we see what is 
to be the issue of the matter, I could like to tell you some- 
what of the tower which you appear to view with such mis- 
trust." 

" It stands with you," said Wilhelm, " whether you will 
risk your eloquence on an attention so distracted. My mind 
is so engaged at present, that I know not whether I can take 
a proper interest in these very dignified adventures." 

" Your pleasing humor shall not hinder me," said Jarno, 
" from explaining this affair to you. You reckon me a clever 
fellow ; I want to make you reckon me an honest one : and, 
what is more, on this occasion I am bidden speak." — "I 
could wish," said Wilhelm, " that you did It of yourself, and 
with an honest purpose to inform me ; but, as I cannot hear 
without suspicion, wherefore should I hear at ail? " — u If I 
have nothing better to do," said Jarno, " than tell you stories, 
you, too, have time to listen to me ; and to this you may 
perhaps feel more inclined, when I assure you, that all } t ou 
saw in the tower was but Hie relics of a }-outhful undertak- 
ing, in regard to which the greater part of the initiated were 
once in deep earnest, though all of them now view it with 
a smile." 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 47 

*' So, with these pompous signs and words, you do but 
mock?" cried Wilhelm. " With a solemn air, you lead us 
to a ptace inspiring reverence by its aspect ; you make the 
strangest visions pass before us ; you give us rolls full of 
glorious mystic apothegms, of which, in truth, we understand 
but little ; you disclose to us, that hitherto we have been 
pupils ; you solemnly pronounce us free ; and we are just as 
wise as wt were." — u Have you not the parchment by you ? ' : 
said the other. " It contains a deal of sense : those general 
apothegms were not picked up at random, though they seem 
obscure and empty to a man without experiences to recollect 
while reading them. But give me the Indenture, as we call 
it, if it is at hand." — "Quite at hand," cried Wilhelm: 
" such an amulet well merits being worn upon one's breast." 
— "Well," said Jarno, smiling, "who knows whether the 
contents of it may not one day find place in your head and 
heart?" 

He opened the roll, and glanced over the first half of it. 
"This," said he, "regards the cultivation of our gifts for 
art and science, of which let others speak : the second treats 
of life ; here I am more at home." 

He then began to read passages, speaking between whiles, 
and connecting them with his remarks and narrative. " The 
taste of youth for secrecy, for ceremonies, for imposing 
words, is extraordinary, and frequently bespeaks a certain 
depth of character. In those years we wish to feel our whole 
nature seized and moved, even though it be but vaguely and 
darkly. The youth who happens to have lofty aspirations 
and forecastings thinks that secrets yield him much, that he 
must depend much on secrets, and effect much by means of 
them. It was with such views that the abbe" favored a 
certain society of young men, partly according to his prin- 
ciple of aiding every tendency of nature, partly out of habit 
and inclination ; for in former times he had himself been 
joined to an association which appears to have accomplished 
many things in secret. For this business I was least of 
all adapted. I was older than the rest ; from youth I 
had thought clearly ; I wished in all things nothing more 
than clearness ; I felt no interest in men but to know them 
as they were. With the same taste I gradually infected 
all the best of our associates, and this circumstance had 
almost given a false direction to our plan of culture. For 
we now began to look at nothing but the errors and the nar- 
rowness of others, and to think ourselves a set of highly 



48 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

gifted personages. Here the abbe" came to our assistance : 
he taught us that we never should inspect the conduct of 
men, unless we at the same time took an interest in improv- 
ing it ; and that through action only could we ever be in a 
condition to inspect and watch ourselves. He advised us, 
however, to retain the primary forms of the society : hence 
there was still a sort of law in our proceedings ; the first 
mystic impressions might be traced in the constitution of the 
whole. At length, as by a practical similitude, it took the 
form of a corporate trade, whose business was the arts. 
Hence came the names of apprentices, assistants, and 
masters. We wished to see with our own eyes, and to form 
for ourselves, a special record of our own experience in the 
world. Hence those numerous confessions which in part we 
ourselves wrote, in part made others write, and out of which 
the several Apprenticeships were afterwards compiled. The 
formation of his character is not the chief concern with 
every man. Many merely wish to find a sort of recipe for 
comfort, directions for acquiring riches, or whatever good 
they aim at. All such, when they would not be instructed 
in their proper duties, we were wont to mystify, to treat with 
juggleries, and every sort of hocus-pocus, and at length to 
shove aside. We advanced none to the rank of masters, but 
such as clearly felt and recognized the purpose they were born 
for, and had got enough of practice to proceed along their 
way with a certain cheerfulness and ease." 

" In my case, then," cried Wilhelm, " your ceremony has 
been very premature ; for, since the day when you pronounced 
me free, what I can, will, or shall do has been more unknown 
to me than ever." — "We are not to blame for this per- 
plexity : perhaps good fortune will deliver us. In the mean 
time, listen : ' He in whom there is much to be developed will 
be later in acquiring true perceptions of himself and of the 
world. There are few who at once have Thought and the 
capacity of Action. -Thought expands, but lames: Action 
animates, but narrows.' " 

" I beg of you," cried Wilhelm, " not to read me any 
more of that surprising stuff. These phrases have sufficiently 
confused me before." — "I will stick by my story, then," 
said Jarno, half rolling up the parchment, into which, how- 
ever, he kept casting frequent glances. " I myself have 
been of less service to the cause of our societ}', and of my 
fellow-men, than any other member. I am but a bad school- 
master : I cunnot bear to look on people making awkward 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 49 

trials ; when I see a person wander from his path, I feel con- 
strained to call to him, although it were a night-walker going 
straight to break his neck. On this point I had a continual 
struggle with the abbe, who maintains that error can never 
be cured, except by erring. About you, too, we often 
argued. He had taken an especial liking to you, and it is 
saying something to have caught so much of his attention. 
For me, you must admit, that every time we met I told you 
just the naked truth." — "Certainly, you spared me very 
little," said the other ; " and I think you still continue faithful 
to your principles." — "What is the use of sparing," an- 
swered Jarno, "when a young man of many good endow- 
ments is taking a quite false direction? " — " Pardon me," 
said Wilhelm : ' ' you have rigorously enough denied me 
any talent for the stage ; I confess to you, that, though I 
have entirely renounced the art, I cannot think myself en- 
tirely incapable." — " And with me," said Jarno, " it is well 
enough decided, that a person who can only play himself is 
no player. Whoever cannot change himself, in temper and 
in form, into many forms, does not deserve the name. Thus 
you, for example, acted Hamlet, and some other characters, 
extremely well ; because, in these, your form, your disposi- 
tion, and the temper of the moment, suited. For an amateur 
theatre, for any one who saw no other way before him, this 
would, perhaps, have answered well enough. But," con- 
tinued Jarno, looking on the roll, '"we should guard against 
a talent which we cannot hope to practise in perfection. 
Improve it as we may, we shall always, in the end, when 
the merit of the master has become apparent to us, pain- 
fully lament the loss of time and strength devoted to such 
botching.' " 

" Do not read ! " cried Wilhelm : "I entreat you earnestly, 
speak on, tell, inform me ! So, the abbe* aided mc in Ham- 
let : he provided me a Ghost ? " — " Yes ; for he asserted 
that it was the only way of curing you, if you were curable." 

— " And on this account he left the veil, and bade me flee? " 

— "Yes: he hoped, that, having fairly acted Hamlet, your 
desire of acting would be satiated. He maintained that you 
would never go upon the stage again : I believed the contrary, 
and I was right. We argued on the subject that very even- 
ing, when the play was over." — " You saw me act, then? " 

— "I did indeed." — " And who was it that played the 
Ghost? " — " That I cannot tell you : either the abbe* or his 
twin-brother ; but I think the latter, for he is a little taller." 



50 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

— " You, then, have secrets from each other? " — " Friends 
may and must have secrets from, but they are not secrets to, 
each other." 

" The very thought of that perplexity perplexes me. Let 
me understand the man to whom I owe so many thanks as 
well as such reproaches." 

u What gives him such a value in our estimation," answered 
Jarno, " what, in some degree, secures him the dominion over 
all of us, is the free, sharp eye that nature has bestowed on 
him, for all the powers which dwell in man, and are suscepti- 
ble of cultivation, each according to its kind. Most men, even 
the most accomplished, are but limited : each prizes certain 
properties in others and himself ; these alone he favors, these 
alone will he have cultivated. Directly the reverse is the 
procedure of our abbe : for every gift he has a feeling ; every 
gift he delights to recognize and forward. But I must look 
into my roll again ! ' It is all men that make up mankind, 
all powers taken together that make up the world. These 
are frequently at variance ; and, as they endeavor to destroy 
each other, Nature holds them together, and again produces 
them. From the first animal tendency to handicraft attempts, 
up to the highest practising of intellectual art ; from the in- 
articulate Growings of the happy infant, up to the polished 
utterance of the orator and singer ; from the first bickerings 
of boys, up to the vast equipments by which countries are 
conquered and retained ; from the slightest kindliness, and 
the most transitory love, up to the fiercest passion, and the 
most earnest covenant ; from the merest perception of sensi- 
ble presence, up to the faintest presentiments and hopes of 
the remotest spiritual future, — all this, and much more also, 
lies in man, and must be cultivated, yet not in one, but in 
many. Every gift is valuable, and ought to be unfolded. 
When one encourages the beautiful alone, and another encour- 
ages the useful alone, it takes them both to form a man. The 
useful encourages itself ; for the multitude produce it, and no 
one can dispense with it : the beautiful must be encouraged ; 
for few can set it forth, and many need it.' " 

"Hold! Hold!" cried Wilhelm : " I have read it all."— 
"Yet a line or two! said Jarno. "Here is our worthy 
abbe to a hair's-breadth : ' One power rules another, none 
can cultivate another : in each endowment, and not else- 
where, lies the force which must complete it; this many 
people do not understand, who yet attempt to teach and in- 
fluence.' " — " Nor do I understand it," answered Wilhelm. 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 51 

— " You will often hear the abbe preach on this text; and, 
therefore, ' Let us merely keep a clear and Steady eye on 
what is in ourselves, on what endowments of our own we 
mean to cultivate : let us be just to others, for we ourselves 
are only to be valued in so far as we can value.' " — '* For 
Heaven's sake, no more of these wise saws ! I feel them to 
be but a sorry balsam for a wounded heart. Tell me, rather, 
with your cruel settledness, what you expect of me, how, 
and in what manner, you intend to sacrifice me." — "For 
every such suspicion, I assure you, you will afterwards beg 
our pardon. It is your affair to try and ciioose : it is ours 
to aid -you. A man is never happy till his vague striving 
has itself marked out its proper limitation. It is not to me 
that you must look, but to the abbe : it is not of yourself 
that you must think, but of what surrounds you. Thus, for 
instance, learn to understand Lothario's superiority ; how his 
quick and comprehensive vision is inseparably united with 
activity ; how he constantly advances ; how he expands his 
influence, and carries every one along with him. Wherever 
he may be, he bears a world about with him : his presence 
animates and kindles. Observe our good physician, on the 
other hand. His nature seems to be directly the reverse. If 
the former only works upon the general whole, and at a dis- 
tance, the latter turns his piercing eye upon the things that are 
beside him : he rather furnishes the means for being active, 
than himself displays or stimulates activity. His conduct is 
exactly like the conduct of a good domestic manager : he 
is busied silently, while he provides for each in his peculiar 
sphere ; his knowledge is a constant gathering and expand- 
ing, a taking in and giving out on a small scale. Perhaps 
Lothario in a single day might overturn what the other had 
for years been employed in building up ; but perhaps Lothario 
also might impart to others, in a moment, strength sufficient 
to restore a hundred- fold what he had overturned." — " It is 
but a sad employment," answered Wilhelm, " to contemplate 
the sublime advantages of others, at a moment when we are 
at variance with ourselves. Such contemplations suit the man 
at ease, not him whom passion and uncertainty are agitat- 
ing." — " Peacefully and reasonably to contemplate is at no 
time hurtful," answered Jarno : ** and, while we use ourselves 
to think of the advantages of others, our own mind comes in- 
sensibly to imitate them ; and every false activity, to which 
our fancy was alluring us, is then willingly abandoned. Free 
your mind, if you can, from all suspicion and anxiety. Here 



52 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

comes the abb6 : be courteous towards him, till you have 
learned still further what you owe him. The rogue ! There 
he goes between Natalia and Theresa : I could bet he is con- 
triving something. As in general he rather likes to act the 
part of Destiny ; so he does not fail to show a taste for mak- 
ing matches when he finds an opportunity." 

Wilhelm, whose angry and fretful humor all the placid, 
prudent words of Jarno had not bettered, thought his friend 
exceedingly indelicate for mentioning marriage at a moment 
like the present : he answered, with a smile indeed, but a 
rather bitter one, " I thought the taste for making matches 
had been left to those that had a taste for one another. " 



CHAPTER VI. 

The company had met again : the conversation of our 
friends was necessarily interrupted. Erelong a courier was 
announced, as wishing to deliver with his own hand a letter 
to Lothario. The man was introduced : he had a vigorous, 
sufficient look ; his livery was rich and handsome. Wilhelm 
thought he knew him, nor was he mistaken ; for it was the 
man whom he had sent to seek Philina and the fancied Mari- 
ana, and who never came back. Our friend was about to 
address him, when Lothario, who had read the letter, asked 
the courier with a serious, almost angry, tone, " What is your 
master's name? " 

"Of all questions," said the other, with a prudent air, 
" this is the one which I am least prepared to answer. I hope 
the letter will communicate the necessary information : ver- 
bally I have been charged with nothing." 

" Be it as it will," replied Lothario with a smile : " since 
your master puts such trust in me as to indite a letter so ex- 
ceedingly facetious, he shall be welcome to us." — " He will 
not keep you long waiting for him," said the courier, with a 
bow, and withdrew. 

"Do but hear the distracted, stupid message," said Lotha- 
rio. " ' As of all guests, Good Humor is believed to be the 
most agreeable wherever he appears, and as I always keep 
that gentleman beside me b} 7 way of travelling companion, I 
feel persuaded that the visit I intend to pay your noble lord- 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 53 

ship will not be taken ill : on the contrary, I hope the whole 
of your illustrious family will witness my arrival with complete 
satisfaction, and in due time also my departure ; being always, 
et ccetera, Count of Snailfoot.' " 

" 'Tis a new family," said the abbe. 

" A vicariat count, perhaps," said Jarno. 

" The secret is easy to unriddle," said Natalia : " I wager 
it is none but brother Friedrich, who has threatened us with 
a visit ever since my uncle's death." 

' ' Right, fair and skilful sister ! ' ' cried a voice from the 
nearest thicket ; and immediately a pleasant, cheerful youth 
stepped forward. Wilhelm could scarcely restrain a cry of 
wonder. "What!" exclaimed he: "does our fair-haired 
knave, too, meet me here ? ' ' Friedrich looked attentively, and, 
recognizing Wilhelm, cried, " In truth, it would not have as- 
tonished me so much to have beheld the famous pyramids, 
which still stand fast in Egypt, or the grave of King Mausolus, 
which, as I am told, does not exist, here placed before me in 
my uncle's garden, as to find you in it, my old friend, and 
frequent benefactor. Accept my best and heartiest service ! " 

After he had kissed and complimented the whole circle, 
he again sprang towards Wilhelm, crying, " Use him well, 
this hero, this leader of armies, and dramatical philosopher ! 
When we became acquainted first, I dressed his hair indiffer- 
ently, I may say execrably ; yet he afterwards saved me from 
a pretty load of blows. He is magnanimous as Scipio, mu- 
nificent as Alexander : at times he is in love, yet he never 
hates his rivals. Far from heaping coals of fire on the heads 
of his enemies, — a piece of service, I am told, which we can 
do for any one, — he rather, when his friends have carried off 
his love, despatches good and trusty servants after them, 
that they may not strike their feet against a stone." 

In the same style he ran along with a volubility which baf- 
fled all attempts to restrain it ; and, as no one could reply to 
•him in that vein, he had the conversation mostly to himself. 
44 Do not wonder," cried he, " that I am so profoundly versed 
in sacred and profane writers : you shall hear by and by how 
I attained my learning." The} r wished to know how matters 
stood with him, — where he had been ; but crowds of proverbs 
and old stories choked his explanation. 

Natalia whispered to Theresa, " His gayety afflicts me : I 
am sure at heart he is not merry." 

As, except a few jokes which Jarno answered, Friedrich's 
merriment was met bv no response from those about him, he 



54 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

was obliged at last to say, "Well, there is nothing left for 
me, but, among so many grave faces, to be grave myself. 
And as, in such a solemn scene, the burden of my sins falls 
heav} r on my soul, I must honestly resolve upou a general 
confession ; for which, however, you, my worthy gentlemen 
and ladies, shall not be a jot the wiser. This honorable friend 
already knows a little of my walk and conversation ; he alone 
shall know the rest ; and this the rather, as he alone has any 
cause to ask about it. Are not you," continued he to Wil- 
helm, "curious about the how and where, the when and 
wherefore? And how it stands with the conjugation of the 
Greek verb optlto^ yda, and the derivatives of that very amia- 
ble part of speech? " 

He then took Wilhelm by the arm, and led him off, press- 
ing him and skipping round him with the liveliest air of 
kindness. 

Scarcely had they entered Wilhelm' s room, when Friedrich 
noticed, in the window, a powder-knife, with the inscription, 
" Think of me." " You keep your valuables well laid up ! " 
said he. " This is the powder-knife Philina gave you, when 
I pulled your locks for you. I hope, in looking at it, you 
have diligentl}' thought of that fair damsel ; I assure you, 
she has not forgotten } r ou : if I had not long ago obliterated 
eveiy trace of jealousy from my heart, I could not look on 
you without envy." 

u Talk no more of that creature," answered Wilhelm. " I 
confess it was a while before I could get rid of the impres- 
sion which her looks and manner made on me, but that was 
all." 

" Fie, Fie ! " cried Friedrich. " Would any one deny his 
deary? You loved her as completely as a man could wish. 
No day passed without your giving her some present ; and, 
when a German gives, you may be sure he loves. No alter- 
native remained for me but whisking her away from you, 
and in this the little red officer at last succeeded." 

' i What ! you were the officer whom we discovered with 
her, whom she travelled off with? " 

"Yes," said Friedrich, "whom you took for Mariana. 
We had sport enough at the mistake." 

"What cruelty," cried Wilhelm, "to leave me in such, 
suspense ! " 

" And, besides, to take the courier, whom you sent to 
catch us, into pay ! " said Friedrich. " He is a very active 
fellow : we have kept him by us ever since. And the girl 



METSTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 55 

herself I love as desperately as ever. She has managed mc 
in some peculiar style : 1 am almost in a myihoiogic case; 
every day I tremble at the thought of being metamorphosed." 

"But tell me, pray," said Wilhelm, "where have you 
acquired this stock of erudition? It surprises me to hear the 
strange way you have assumed of speaking always with a 
reference to ancient histories and fables." 

" It was by a pleasant plan," said Friedrich, " that I got 
my learning. Philina lives with me at present : we have got 
a lease of an old, knightly castle from the farmer in whose 
ground it is ; and there we live, with the hobgoblins of the 
place, as merrily as possible. In one of the rooms we found 
a small, but choice, library, consisting of a Bible in folio, 
'Gottfried's Chronicle,' two volumes of the 'Theatrum. 
Europaeum,' an ' Acerra Philologica,' 4 Gryphius' Writ- 
ings,' and some other less important works. As we now 
and then, when tired of romping, felt the time hang heavy 
on our hands, we proposed to read some books ; and, before 
we were aware, the time hung heavier than ever. At last 
Philina hit upon the ro} 7 al plan of laying all the tomes, opened 
at once, upon a large table. We sat down opposite to one 
another : we read to one another, — - always in detached pas- 
sages, first from this book, then from that. We had a jolly 
time of it. We felt now as if we were in good society, where 
it is reckoned unbecoming to dwell on any subject, or search 
it to the bottom : we thought ourselves in witty, gay society, 
where none will let his neighbor speak. We regularly treat 
ourselves with this diversion every day, and the erudition 
we obtain from it is quite surprising. Already there is noth- 
ing new for us under the sun : on every thing we see or hear, 
our learning offers Us a hint. This method of instruction we 
diversify in many ways. Frequently we read by an old, spoiled 
sand-glass, which runs in a minute or two. The moment it 
is down, the silent party turns it round like lightning, and 
commences reading from his book ; and no sooner is it down 
again, than the other cuts him short, and starts the former 
topic. Thus we study in a truly academic manner, with this 
difference, that our hours are shorter, and our studies ex- 
tremely varied." 

" This rioting is quite conceivable," said Wilhelm, " when 
a pair like you two are together ; but how a pair so full of 
frolic stay together does not seem so easily conceivable." 

"It is our good fortune," answered Friedrich, " and our 
bad. Philina dare not let herself be seen. — she cannot bear 



56 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

to see herself : she is with child. Nothing ever was so ludi- 
crous and shapeless in the world. A little while before I 
came away, she chanced to cast an eye upon the looking-glass 
in passing. ' Faugh ! ' cried she, and turned away her face : 
' the living picture of the Frau Melina ! Shocking figure ! 
One looks entirely deplorable ! ' " 

"I confess," said Wilhelm, with a smile, "it must be 
rather farcical to see a father and a mother, such as you and 
she, together." 

" 'Tis a foolish business," answered Friedrich, u that I 
must at last be raised to the paternal dignity. But she 
asserts, and the time agrees. At first that cursed visit which 
she paid you after ' Hamlet ' gave me qualms." 

"What visit?" 

' ' I suppose you have not quite slept off the memory of it 
yet? The pretty, flesh-and-blood spirit of that night, if you 
do not know it, was Philina. The story was, in truth, a hard 
dower for me ; but, if we cannot be content with such things, 
we should not be in love. Fatherhood, at any rate, depends 
entirely upon conviction : I am convinced, and so I am a 
father. There, you see, I can employ my logic in the proper 
season too. And, if the brat do not laugh itself to death so 
soon as it is born, it may prove, if not a useful, at least a 
pleasant, citizen of this world." 

Whilst our friends were talking thus of mirthful subjects, 
the rest of the party had begun a serious conversation. 
Scarcely were Friedrich and Wilhelm gone, when the abbe" 
led his friends, as if by chance, into a garden-house, and, 
having got them seated, thus addressed them : — 

' ' We have in general terms asserted that Fraulein Theresa 
was not the daughter of her reputed mother : it is fit that we 
should now explain ourselves on this matter, in detail. I 
shall relate the story to you, which I undertake to prove and 
to elucidate in every point. 

' ' Frau von spent the first years of her wedlock in 

the utmost concord with her husband ; but they had this mis- 
fortune, that the children she brought him came into the 
world dead : and, on occasion of the third, the mother was 
declared by the physicians to be on the verge of death, and 
to be sure of death if she should ever have another. The 
parties were obliged to take their resolution : they would not 
break the marriage ; it was too suitable to both, in a civil 

point of view. Frau von sought in the culture of her 

mind, in a certain habit of display, in the joys of vanity, a 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 57 

compensation for the happiness of motherhood, which was 
refused her. She cheerfully indulged her husband, when 
she noticed in him an attachment to a young lady, who had 
sole charge of their household, a person of beautiful exte- 
rior, and very solid character. Frau von herself, ere- 
long, assisted in procuring an arrangement, by which the 
lady yielded to the wishes of Theresa's father; continuing 
to discharge her household duties, and testifying to the mis- 
tress of the family, if possible, a more submissive zeal to 
serve her than before. 

44 After a while she declared herself with child ; and both 
the father and his wife, on this occasion, though from very 

different causes, fell upon the same idea. Hen* von 

wished to have the offspring of his mistress educated in the 

house as his lawful child ; and Frau von , angry that 

the indiscretion of her doctor had allowed some whisper of 
her condition to go abroad, proposed by a supposititious 
child to counteract this, and likewise to retain, by such com- 
pliance, the superiority in her household, which otherwise 
she was like to lose. However, she was more backward 
than her husband : she observed his purpose, and contrived, 
without any formal question, to facilitate his explanation. 
>She made her own terms, obtaining almost every thing that 
she required ; and hence the will in which so little care was 
taken of the child. The old doctor was dead : they applied 
to a young, active, and discreet successor ; he was well 
rewarded ; he looked forward to the credit of exposing and 
remedying the unskilfulness and premature decision of his 
deceased colleague. The true mother not unwillingly con- 
sented : they managed the deception very well ; Theresa 
came into the world, and was surrendered to a stepmother, 
while her mother fell a victim to the plot ; having died by 
venturing out too early, and left the father inconsolable. 

4 4 Frau von had thus attained her objecx ; in the eyes 

of the world she had a lovely child, which she paraded with 
excessive vanity : and she had also been delivered from a 
rival whose fortune she envied, and whose influence, at least 
in prospect, she beheld with apprehension. The infant she 
loaded with her tenderness : and by affecting, in trustful 
hours, a lively feeling for her husband's loss, she gained a 
mastery of his heart ; so that in a manner he surrendered all 
to her, laid his own happiness and that of his child in her 
hands : nor was it till a short while prior to his death, and, 
in some degree, by the exertions of his grown-up daughter, 



58 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

that he again assumed the rule in his own house. This, fair 
Theresa, was in all probability the secret which your father, 
in his last sickness, so struggled to communicate : this is 
what I wished to lay circumstantially before you, at a mo- 
ment when our young friend, who by a strange concurrence 
has become your bridegroom, happens to be absent. Here 
are the papers which will prove in the most rigorous manner 
every thing that I have stated. You will also see from them 
how long I have been following the trace of this discovery ; 
though, till now, I could never attain certainty respecting it. 
I did not risk imparting to my friend the possibility of such a 
happiness : it would have wounded him too deeply had this 
hope a second time deceived him. You will understand poor 
Lydia's suspicions : I readily confess, I nowise favored our 
friend's attachment to her, when I began again to look for- 
ward to his union with Theresa." 

To this recjtal no one replied. The ladies, some days after- 
wards, returned the papers, not making any further mention 
of them. 

There were other matters in abundance to engage the 
party when they were together ; and the scenery around w T as 
so delightful, that our friends, singly or in company, on 
horseback, in carriages, or on foot, delighted to explore it. 
On one of these excursions, Jarno took an opportunity of 
opening the affair to Wdhelm : he delivered him the papers ; 
not, however, seeming to require from him any resolution in 
regard to them. 

"In this most singular position in which I am," said 
our friend, " I need only repeat to you what I said at first, 
in presence of Natalia, and with the clear intention to fulfil 
it. Lothario and his friends may require of me every sort 
of self-denial ; I here abandon in their favor all pretension 
to Theresa : do you procure me in return a formal discharge. 
There requires no great reflection to decide. For some days 
I have noticed that Theresa has to make an effort in retain- 
ing any show of the vivacity with which she welcomed me at 
first. Her affection is gone from me ; or, rather, I have 
never had it." 

"Such affairs are more conveniently explained," said 
Jarno, "by a gradual process, in silence and expectation, 
than by many words, which always cause a sort of fermen- 
tation and embarrassment." 

"I rather think," said Wilhelm, iw that precisely this af- 
fair admits of the most clear and culm decision on the spot. 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 59 

I have often been reproached with hesitation and uncer- 
tainty : why will yon now, when I do not hesitate, commit 
against myself the fault you have often blamed in me? Do 
people take such trouble with our training only to let us feel 
that they themselves will not be trained ? Yes : grant me soon 
the cheerful thought that I am out of a mistaken project, 
into which I entered with the purest feelings in the world." 

Notwithstanding this request, some days elapsed without 
his heariug any more of the affair, or observing any further 
alteration in his friends. The conversation, on the contrary, 
was general, and of indifferent matters. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Jarno and Wilhelm were sitting one day by Natalia. 
" You are thoughtful, Jarno," said the lady: " I have seen 
it in your looks for some time." 

' ; I am so," answered Jarno : " a weighty business is be- 
fore me, which we have for years been meditating, and 
must now begin to execute. Y^ou alrcad} 7 know the outline 
of it : I may speak of it before our friend ; for it will de- 
pend on himself whether he, too, shall not share in it. You 
are going to get rid of me before long : I mean to take a 
voyage to America." 

"To America?" said Wilhelm, smiling: "such an ad- 
venture I did not anticipate from you, still less that you 
would have selected me for a companion." 

"When you rightly understand our plan," said Jarno., 
44 } T ou will give it a more honorable name, and, perhaps, your- 
self be tempted to embark in it. Listen to me. It requires 
but a slight acquaintance with the business of the world to 
see that mighty changes are at hand, that property is almost 
nowhere quite secure." 

"Of the business of the world I have no clear notion," 
interrupted Wilhelm ; ' ' and it is but of late that I ever 
thought about my property. Perhaps I had done well to 
drive it out of my head still longer : the care of securing it 
appears to give us hypochondria." 

"Hear me out," said Jarno. "Care beseems ripe age, 
that youth may live, for a time, free from care ; in the con- 



60 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

duct of poor mortals, equilibrium cannot be restored except 
by contraries. As matters go, it is any thing but prudent to 
have property in only one place, to commit your money to a 
single spot ; and yet it is difficult to guide it well in many. 
We have, therefore, thought of something else. From our 
old tower there is a society to issue, which must spread it- 
self through every quarter of the world, and to which mem- 
bers from every quarter of the world shall be admissible. 
We shall insure a competent subsistence to each other, in the 
single case of a revolution happening, which might drive any 
part of us entirely from their possessions. I am now pro- 
ceeding to America to profit by the good connections which 
our friend established while he staid there. The abbe means 
to go to Russia : if you like to join us, you shall have the 
choice of continuing in Germany to help Lothario, or of ac- 
companying me. I conjecture you will choose the latter : 
to take a distant journey is extremely serviceable to a young 
man." 

Wilhelm thought a moment, and replied, "The offer well 
deserves consideration ; for erelong the word with me must 
be, The farther off, the better. You will let me know your 
plan, I hope, more perfectly. It is, perhaps, my ignorance of 
life that makes me think so ; but such a combination seems 
to me to be attended with insuperable difficulties." 

"The most of which, till now, have been avoided," an- 
swered Jarno, " by the circumstance that we have been but 
few in number, honorable, discreet, determined people, ani- 
mated by a certain general feeling, out of which alone the 
feeling proper for societies can spring." — "And if you 
speak me fair," said Friedrich, who hitherto had only lis- 
tened, "I, too, will go along with you." 

Jarno shook his head. 

" Well, what objections can you make? " cried Friedrich. 
" In a new colony, young colonists will be required ; these I 
bring with me : merry colonists will also be required ; of 
these I make you certain. Besides, I recollect a certain 
damsel, who is out of place on this side of the water, — the 
fair, soft-hearted Lydia. What is the poor thing to do with 
her sorrow and mourning, unless she get an opportunity to 
throw it to the bottom of the sea, unless some brave fellow 
take her b} 7 the hand? You, my benefactor," said he, turn- 
ing towards Wilhelm, " you have a taste for comforting for- 
saken persons : what withholds you now ? Each of us might 
take his girl under his arm, and trudge with Jarno." 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 61 

This proposal struck Wilhelm offensively. He answered 
with affected calmness, " I know not whether she is unen- 
gaged ; and, as in general I seem to be unfortunate in court- 
ship, I shall hardly think of making the attempt." 

"Brother Friedrich," said Natalia, "though thy own 
conduct is so full of levity, it does not follow that such sen- 
timents will answer others. Our friend deserves a heart that 
shall belong to him alone, that shall not, at his side, be moved 
by recollections of some previous attachment. It was only 
with a character as pure and reasonable as Theresa's that 
such a venture could be risked." 

" Risk ! " cried Friedrich : "in love it is all risk. In the 
grove or at the altar, with a clasp of the arms or a golden 
ring, by the chirping of the cricket or the sound of trumpets 
and kettle-drums, it is all but a risk : chance does it all." 

" I have often noticed," said Natalia, " that our principles 
are just a supplement to our peculiar manner of existence. 
We delight to clothe our errors in the garb of universal laws, 
to attribute them to irresistibly appointed causes. Do but 
think by what a path thy dear will lead thee, now that she 
has drawn thee towards her, and holds thee fast there." 

" She herself is on a very pretty path," said Friedrich, — 
" on the path to saintship. A by-path, it is true, and some- 
what roundabout, but the pleasanter and surer for that. Maria 
of Magdala travelled it, and who can say how many more? 
But, on the whole, sister, when the point in hand is love, 
thou shouldst not mingle in it. In my opinion, thou wilt 
never marry, till a bride is lacking somewhere : in that case, 
thou wilt give thyself, with thy habitual charity, to be the sup- 
plement of some peculiar manner of existence, not other- 
wise. So let us strike a bargain with this soul-broker, and 
agree about our travelling-company." 

" You come too late with your proposals," answered Jarno : 
" Lydia is disposed of" 

" And how? " cried Friedrich. 

" I myself have offered her my hand," said Jarno. 

" Old gentleman," said Friedrich, "you have done a feat 
to which, if we regard it as a substantive, various adjectives 
might be appended ; various predicates, if we regard it as a 
subject." 

" I must'honestly confess," replied Natalia, "it appears 
a dangerous experiment to make a helpmate of a woman, at 
the very moment when her love for another man is like to 
drive her to despair." 



62 MEISTEE'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

"I have ventured," answered Jarno : 'Minder a certain 
stipulation she is to be mine. And, believe me, there is 
nothing in the world more precious than a heart susceptible 
of love and passion. Whether it has loved, whether it still 
loves, are points which I regard not. The love of which 
another is the object charms me almost more than that 
whieh is directed to myself. I see the strength, the force, of 
a tender soul ; and my self-love does not trouble the delightful 
vision." 

44 Have you, then, talked with Lydia of late?" inquired 
Natalia. 

Jarno smiled and nodded : Natalia shook her head, and 
said as he rose, 44 1 really know not what to make of you ; 
but me you shall not mystify, I promise you." 

She was about retiring, when the abbe entered with a letter 
in his hand. ' 4 Stay, if you please," said he to her: 44 I 
have a proposal here, respecting which your counsel will be 
welcome. The marchese, your late uncle's friend, whom for 
some time we have been expecting, will be here in a day or 
two. He writes to me, that German is not so familiar to him 
as he had supposed ; that he needs a person who possesses 
this and other languages, to travel with him ; that, as he 
wishes to connect himself with scientific rather than political 
society, he cannot do without some such interpreter. I can 
think of no one better suited for the post than our young friend 
here. He knows the language, is acquainted with many 
things beside ; and, for himself, it cannot but be advantageous 
to travel over Germany in such society and such circum- 
stances. Till we have seen our native country, we have no 
scale to judge of other countries by. What say you, my 
friend? What say you, Natalia? " 

Nobody objected to the scheme : Jarno seemed to think 
his transatlantic project would not be a hinder ance, as he 
did not mean to sail directly. Natalia did not speak, and 
Friedrich uttered various saws about the uses of travel. 

This new project so provoked our friend, that he could 
hardly conceal his irritation. He saw in this proposal a 
concerted plan for getting rid of him as soon as possible ; 
and, what was worse, they went so openly to work, and 
seemed so utterly regardless of his feelings. The suspicions 
Lydia had excited in him, all that he himself had witnessed, 
rose again upon his mind : the simple manner in which every 
thing had been explained by Jarno now appeared to him 
another piece of artifice 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 63 

He constrained himself, and answered, u At all events, the 
offer will require mature deliberation." 

" A quick decision may, perhaps, be necessary," said the 
abbe. 

" For that I am not prepared," answered Wilhelm. " We 
can wait till the marchese comes, and then observe if we 
agree together. One condition must, however, be conceded 
first of all, — that I take Felix with me." 

" This is a condition," said the abbe, " which will scarcely 
be conceded." 

" And I do not see," cried Wilhelm, u why I should let 
any man prescribe conditions to me, or why, if I choose to 
view my native country, I must go in company with an 
Italian." 

" Because a young man," said the abbe, with a certain 
imposing earnestness, " is always called upon to form con- 
nections." 

Wilhelm, feeling that he could not long retain his self- 
command, as it was Natalia's presence only which, in some 
degree, assuaged his indignation, hastily made answer, 
" Give me a little while to think. I imagine it will not be 
very hard to settle whether I am called upon to form addi- 
tional connections ; or ordered irresistibly, by heart and head, 
to free myself from such a multiplicity of bonds, which seem 
to threaten me with a perpetual, miserable thraldom." 

Thus he spoke, with a deeply agitated mind. A glance at 
Natalia somewhat calmed him : her form and dignity, in this 
impassioned moment, stamped themselves more deeply on 
his mind than ever. 

" Yes," said he, so soon as he was by himself, " confess 
it, thou lovest her : thou once more feelest what it means to 
love with thy whole soul. Thus did I love Mariana, and 
deceive myself so dreadfully ; I loved Philina, and could not 
help despising her ; Aurelia I respected, and could not love ; 
Theresa I reverenced, and paternal tenderness assumed the 
form of an affection for her. And now, when all the feel- 
ings that can make a mortal happy meet within my heart, 
now am I compelled to fiee ! Ah ! why should these feelings 
and convictions be combined with an insuperable longing? 
Why, without the hope of its fulfilment, should they utterly 
subvert all other happiness ? Shall the sun and the world, 
society or any other gift of fortune, ever henceforth yield 
me pleasure ? Wilt thou not forever say, Natalia is not here ? 
And yet, alas ! Natalia will be always present to thee ! If 



64 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

thou closest thy eyes, she will appear to thee : if thou openest 
them, her form will flit before all outward things, like the 
image which a dazzling object leaves behind it in the eye. 
Did not the swiftly passing figure of the Amazon dwell con- 
tinually in thy imagination ? And yet thou hadst but seen 
her, thou didst not know her. Now when thou knowest her, 
when thou hast been so long beside her, when she has shown 
such care about thee, — now are her qualities impressed as 
deeply upon thy soul as her form was then upon thy fancy. 
It is painful to be always seeking, but far more painful to 
have found, and to be forced to leave. What now shall I 
ask for further in the world? What now shall I look for 
further? Is there a country $ a city, that contains a treasure 
such as this ? And I must travel on, and ever find inferiority ? 
Is life, then, like a race-course, where a man must rapidly 
return wheu he has reached the utmost end? Does the good, 
the excellent, stand before us like a firm, unmoving goal, from 
which, with fleet horses, we are forced away the instant we 
appeared to have attained it? Happier arc they who strive 
for earthly w r ares ! They find what they are seeking in its 
proper climate, or they buy it in the fair. 

" Come, my darling boy ! " cried he to Felix, who now ran 
frisking towards him : "be thou and remain thou all to me ! 
Thou wert given me as a compensation for thy loved mother ; 
thou wert to reolace the second mother whom I meant for 
thee ; and now thou hast a loss still greater to make good. 
Occupy my heart, occupy my spirit, with thy beauty, thy 
loveliness, thy capabilities, and thy desire to use them ! " 

The boy was busied with a new plaything : his father tried 
to put it in a better state for him ; just as he succeeded, Felix 
had lost all pleasure in it. "Thou art a true son of Adam ! " 
cried Wilhelm. " Come, my child ! Come, my brother! let 
us wander, pla} r ing without object, through the world, as we 
best may." 

His resolution to remove, to take the boy along with him, 
and recreate his mind by looking at the world, had now 
assumed a settled form. He wrote to Werner for the neces- 
sary cash and letters of credit ; sending Friedrich's courier 
on the message, with the strictest charges to return immedi- 
ately. Much as the conduct of his other friends had grieved 
him, his relation to Natalia remained serene and clear as ever. 

He confided to her his intention. She took it as a settled 
thing that he would go ; and, if this seeming carelessness in 
her chagrined him, her kindly manner and her presence made 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 65 

him calm. She counselled him to visit various towns, that 
he might get acquainted with certain of her friends. The 
courier returned, and brought the letter which our friend re- 
quired ; though Werner did not seem content with this new 
whim. " My hope that thou wert growing reasonable," so 
the letter ran, " is now again deferred. Where are you all 
gadding? And where lingers the lady who thou saidst was 
to assist us in arranging these affairs ? Thy other friends ar.e 
also absent. They have thrown the whole concern upon the 
shoulders of the lawyer and myself. Happy that he is as 
expert a jurist as I am a financier, and that both of us are 
used to business. Fare thee well ! Thy aberrations shall be 
pardoned thee, since but for them our situation here could 
not have been so favorable." 

So far as outward matters were concerned, Wilhelm might 
now have entered on his journey ; but there were still for his 
heart two hinderances that held him fast. In the first place, 
they flatly refused to show him Mignon's body till the funeral 
the abbe meant to celebrate ; and, for this solemntty, the 
preparations were not ready. There had also been a curious 
letter from the country clergyman, in consequence of which 
the doctor had gone off. It related to the harper, of whose 
fate Wilhelm wanted to have further information. 

In these circumstances, day or night he found no rest for 
mind or body. When all were asleep, he wandered up and 
down the house. The presence of the pictures and statues, 
which he knew so well of old, alternately attracted and re- 
pelled him. Nothing that surrounded him could he lay hold 
of or let go ; all things reminded him of all : the whole ring 
of his existence lay before him ; but it was broken into frag- 
ments, and seemed as if it would never unite again. These 
works of art, which his father had sold, appeared to him an 
omen that he himself was destined never to obtain a lasting, 
calm possession of any thing desirable in life, or always to 
be robbed of it so soon as gained, by his own or other peo- 
ple's blame. He waded so deep in these strange and dreary 
meditations, that often he almost thought himself a disem- 
bodied spirit ; and, even when he felt and handled things 
without him, he could scarcely keep himself from doubting 
whether he was really there and alive. 

Nothing but the piercing grief which often seized him, 
but the tears he shed at being forced, by causes frivolous as 
they were irresistible, to leave the good which he had found, 
and found after having lost it, restored him to the feeling of 

3— Goethe Vol 8 



66 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

his earthly life. It was in vain to call before his mind his 
happy state in other respects. "All is nothing, then," ex- 
claimed he, " if the one blessing, which appears to us worth 
all the rest, is wanting ! ' ' 

The abbe" told the company that the marchese was arrived. 
" You have determined, it appears," said he to Wilhelm, 
" to set out upon your travels with your boy alone. Get 
acquainted with this nobleman, however : he will be useful 
to you if you meet him by the way." The marchese en- 
tered. He was a person not yet very far advanced in j T ears, 
— a fine, handsome, pleasing, Lombard figure. In his 3 T outh, 
while in the army and afterwards in public business, he had 
known Lothario's uncle ; they had subsequently travelled 
through the greater part of Italy together : and many of the 
works of art, which the marchese now again fell in with, had 
been purchased in his presence, and under various happy 
circumstances, which he still distinctly recollected. 

The Italians have in general a deeper feeling for the high 
dignity of art than any other nation. In Italy, whoever fol- 
lows the employment tries to pass at once for artist, master, 
and professor ; by which pretensions he acknowledges at 
least that it is not sufficient merely to lay hold of some trans- 
mitted excellency, or to acquire by practice some dexterity, 
but that a man who aims at art should have the power to 
think of what he does, to lay down principles, and make appar- 
ent to himself and others how and wherefore he proceeds in 
this way or in that. 

The stranger w r as affected at again beholding these produc- 
tions when the owner of them was no more, and cheered to 
see the spirit of his friend surviving in the gifted persons left 
behind him. They discussed a series of works : they found 
a lively satisfaction in the harmony of their ideas. The mar- 
chese and the abbe were the speakers ; Natalia felt herself 
again transported to the presence of her uncle, and could 
enter without difficulty into their opinions and criticisms; 
Wilhelm could not understand them, except as he translated 
their technology into dramatic language. Friedrich's face- 
tious vein was sometimes rather difficult to keep in check. 
Jarno was seldom there. 

It being observed that excellent works of art were very 
rare in latter times, it was remarked by the marchese, "We 
can hardly think or estimate how many circumstances must 
combine in favor of the artist : with the greatest genius, with 
the most decisive talent, the demands which he must make 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 67 

upon himself are infinite, the diligence required in cultivating 
his endowments is unspeakable. Now, if circumstances are 
not in his favor, if he observe that the world is very easy to 
be satisfied, requiring but a slight, pleasing, transitory show, 
it were matter of surprise if indolence and selfishness did not 
keep him fixed at mediocrity : it were strange if he did not 
rather think of bartering modish wares for gold and praises 
than of entering on the proper path, which could not fail in 
some degree to lead him to a sort of painful martyrdom. 
Accordingly, the artists of our time are always offering and 
never giving. They always aim at charming, and they never 
satisfy : every thing is merely indicated ; you can nowhere 
find foundation or completion. Those for whom they labor, 
it is true, are little better. If you wait a while in any gallery 
of pictures, and observe what works attract the many, what 
are praised and what neglected, }^ou have little pleasure in 
the present, little hope in the future." 

"Yes," replied the abbe : "and thus it is that artists and 
their judges mutually form each other. The latter ask for 
nothing but a general, vague enjoyment ; a work of art is to 
delight them almost as a work of nature ; they imagine that 
the organs for enjoying works of art may be cultivated alto- 
gether of themselves, like the tongue and the palate ; they try 
a picture or a poem as they do an article of food. They do 
not understand how very different a species of culture it re- 
quires to raise one to the true enjoyment of art. The hardest 
part of it, in my opinion, is that sort of separation which a 
man that aims at perfect culture must accomplish in himself. 
It is on this account that we observe so many people partially 
cultivated, and 3'et every one of them attempting to pro- 
nounce upon the general whole." 

" Your last remark is not quite clear to me," said Jarno, 
who came in just then. 

" It would be difficult," replied the abb£, " to explain it 
fully without a long detail. Thus much I may say : When 
any man pretends to mix in manifold activity or manifold 
enjoyment, he must also be enabled, as it were, to make his 
organs manifold, and independent of each other. Whoever 
aims at doing or enjoying all and every thing with his entire 
nature, whoever tries to link together all that is without him 
by such a species of enjoyment, will only lose his time in 
efforts that can never be successful. How difficult, though 
it seems so easy, is it to contemplate a noble disposition, a 
fine picture, simply in and for itself ; to watch the music for 



68 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

the music's sake ; to admire the actor in the actor ; to take 
pleasure in a building for its own peculiar harmony and 
durability. Most men are wont to treat a work of art, 
though fixed and done, as if it were a piece of soft clay. 
The hard and polished marble is again to mould itself, the 
firm-walled edifice is to contract or to expand itself, accord- 
ing as their inclinations, sentiments, and whims may dictate : 
the picture is to be instructive, the play to make us better, — 
every thing is to do all. The reason is, that most men are 
themselves uninformed, they cannot give themselves and their 
being any certain shape ; and thus they strive to take from 
other things their proper shape, that all they have to do with 
may be loose and wavering like themselves. Every thing is, 
in the long-run, reduced by them to what they call effect : 
every thing is relative, say they ; and so, indeed, it is : every 
thing with them grows relative, except absurdity and plati- 
tude, which truly are absolute enough." 

" I understand you," answered Jarno ; "or, rather, I per- 
ceive how what you have been saying follows from the prin- 
ciples you hold so fast 03-. Yet with men, poor devils, we 
should not go to quest so strictly. I know enow of them 
in truth, who, beside the greatest works of art and nature, 
forthwith recollect their own most paltry insufficiency ; who 
take their conscience and their morals with them to the opera ; 
who bethink them of their loves and hatreds in contemplat- 
ing a colonnade. The best and greatest that can be presented 
to them from without, they must first, as far as possible, 
diminish in their way of representing it, that they may in 
any measure be enabled to combine it with their own sorry 
mature." 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The abb6 called them in the evening to attend the exequies 
of Mignon. The company proceeded to the Hall of the 
Past : they found it magnificently ornamented and illuminated. 
The walls were hung with azure tapestry almost from ceiling 
to floor, so that nothing but the friezes and socles, above and 
below, were visible. On the four candelabras in the corner 
large wax-lights were burning : smaller lights were in the 
four smaller candelabras placed by the sarcophagus in the 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 69 

middle. Near this stood four boys, dressed in azure with 
silver : they had broad faus of ostrich-feathers, which they 
waved above a figure that was resting upon the sarcophagus. 
The company sat down : two invisible choruses began in a 
soft, musical recitative to ask, "Whom bring ye us to the 
still dwelling ?" The four boys replied with lovely voices, 
" 'Tis a tired playmate whom we bring you : let her rest in 
your still dwelling, till the songs of her heavenly sisters once 
more awaken her. ,, 

CHORUS. 

" Firstling of youth in our circle, we welcome thee ! With 
sadness welcome thee ! May no boy, no maiden, follow ! 
Let age only, willing and composed, approach the silent hall, 
and in the solemn company, repose this one dear child ! 

BOYS. 

Ah, reluctantly we brought her hither ! Ah, and she is to 
remain here ! Let us, too, remain : let us weep, let us weep 
upon her bier ! 

CHORUS. 

Yet look at the strong wings ; look at the light, clear robe. 
How glitters the golden band upon her head I Look at the 
beautiful, the noble, repose. 

BOYS. 

Ah ! the wings do not raise her ; in the frolic game, her 
robe flutters to and fro no more ; when we bound her head 
with roses, her looks on us were kind and friendly. 

CHORUS. 

Cast forward the eye of the spirit. Awake in your souls 
the imaginative power, which carries forth what is fairest, 
what is highest, life, away beyond the stars. 

BOYS. 

But, ah ! We find her not here ; in the garden she wan- 
ders not ; the flowers of the meadow she plucks no longer. 
Let us weep, we are leaving her here ! Let us weep, and 
remain with her ! 

CHORUS. 

Children, turn back into life! Your tears let the fresh air 



70 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

dry, which pla} T s upon the rushing water. Flee from Night! 
Day and Pleasure and Continuance are the lot of the living. 

BOYS. 

Up ! Turn back into life ! Let the day give us labor and 
pleasure, till the evening brings us rest, and the nightly sleep 
refreshes us. 

CHORUS. 

Children ! Hasten into life ! In the pure garments of 
beauty, may Love meet you with heavenly looks and with 
the wreath of immortality ! ' ' 

The boys had retired : the abbe rose from his seat, and 
went behind the bier. "It is the appointment," said he, 
" of the man who prepared this silent abode, that each new 
tenant of it shall be introduced with a solemnity. After 
him, the builder of this mansion, the founder of this estab- 
lishment, we have next brought a young stranger hither ; 
and thus already does this little space contain two alto- 
gether different victims of the rigorous, arbitrary, and in- 
exorable Death-goddess. By appointed laws we enter into 
life : the days are numbered which make us ripe to see the 
light, but for the duration of our life there is no law. The 
weakest thread will spin itself to unexpected length ; and 
the strongest is cut suddenly asunder by the scissors of the 
Fates, delighting, as it seems, in contradictions. Of the 
child whom we have here committed to her final rest, we 
can say but little. It is still uncertain whence she came ; 
her parents we know not ; the years of her life we can only 
conjecture. Her deep and closely shrouded soul allowed 
us scarce to guess at its interior movements : there was 
nothing clear in her, nothing open but her affection for the 
man who had snatched her from the hands of a barbarian. 
This impassioned tenderness, this vivid gratitude, appeared 
to be the flame which consumed the oil of her life : the 
skill of the physician could not save that fair life, the most 
anxious friendship could not lengthen it. But, if art could 
not stay the departing spirit, it has done its utmost to 
preserve the body, and withdraw it from decay. A balsamic 
substance has been forced through all -the veins, and now 
tinges, in place of blood, these cheeks too early faded. 
Come near, my frieuds, and view this wonder of art ancl 
care! " 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 71 

He raised the veil : the child was lying in her angel's dress, 
as if asleep, in the most soft and graceful posture. They 
approached, and admired this show of life. Wilhelm alone 
continued sitting in his place ; he w T as not able to compose 
himself : what he felt he durst not think, and every thought 
seemed ready to destroy his feeling. 

For the sake of the marchese, the speech had been pro- 
nounced in French. That nobleman came forward with the 
rest, and viewed the figure with attention. The abbe thus 
proceeded. u With a holy confidence, this kind heart, shut 
up to men, was continually turned to its God. Humility, 
nay, an inclination to abase herself externally, seemed 
natural to her. She clave with zeal to the Catholic religion, 
in which she had been born and educated. Often she ex- 
pressed a still wish to sleep on consecrated ground ; and, 
according to the usage of the Church, we have, therefore, 
consecrated this marble coffin, and the little earth which is 
hidden in the cushion that supports her head. With what 
ardor did she, in her last moments, kiss the image of the 
Crucified, which stood beautifully figured on her tender arm, 
with many hundred points ! " So saying, he stripped up her 
right sleeve ; and a crucifix, with marks and letters round it, 
showed itself in blue upon the white skin. 

The marchese looked at this with eagerness, stooping 
down to view it more intensely. "O God! " cried he, as 
he stood upright, and raised his hands to heaven. " Poor 
child ! Unhappy niece ! Do I meet thee here ? What a 
painful joy to find thee, whom we had long lost hope of ; to 
find this dear frame, which we had long believed the prey of 
fishes in the ocean, here preserved, though lifeless ! I assist 
at thy funeral, splendid in its external circumstances, still 
more splendid from the noble persons who attend thee to thy 
place of rest. And to these," added he, with a faltering 
voice, kt so soon as I can speak, I will express my thanks." 

Tears hindered him from saying more. By the pressure 
of a spring, the abbe* sank the body into the cavity of the 
marble. Four youths, dressed as the boys had been, came 
out from behind the tapestry, and lifting the heavy, beauti- 
fully ornamented lid upon the coffin, thus began their song. 

THE YOUTHS. 

" Well is the treasure now laid up, — the fair image of the 
Past ! Here sleeps it in the marble, undecaying : in your 



72 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

hearts, too, it lives, it works. Travel, travel back into life! 
Take along with you this holy earnestness, for earnestness 
alone makes life eternity." 

The invisible chorus joined in with the last words, but no 
one heard the strengthening sentiment : all were too much 
busied with themselves, and the emotions which these won- 
derful disclosures had excited. The abb6 and Natalia con- 
ducted the marchese out : Theresa and Lothario walked by 
Wilhelm. It was not till the music had altogether died 
away, that their sorrows, thoughts, meditations, curiosity, 
again fell on them with all their force, and made them long 
to be transported back into that exalting scene. 



CHAPTER IX. 

The marchese avoided speaking of the matter, but had 
long, secret conversations with the abbe. When the com- 
pany was met, he often asked for music, — a request to 
which they willingly assented, as each was glad to be delivered 
from the charge of talking. Thus they lived for some time, 
till it was observed that he was making preparations tor 
departure. One day he said to Wilhelm, "I wish not to 
disturb the remains of this beloved child ; let her rest in the 
place where she loved and suffered : but her friends must 
promise to visit me in her native country, in the scene where 
she was born and bred ; they must see the pillars and statues, 
of which a dim idea remained with her. I will lead you to 
the bays where she liked so well to roam, and gather pebbles. 
You, at least, young friend, shall not escape the gratitude of 
a family that stands so deeply indebted to you. To-morrow 
I set out on my journey. The abbe is acquainted with the 
whole history of this matter : he will tell it you again. He 
could pardon me when grief interrupted my recital : as a 
third party, he will be enabled to narrate the incidents with 
more connection. If, as the abbe had proposed, you like to 
follow me in travelling over Germany, you shall be heartily 
welcome. Leave not your boy behind : at every little incon- 
venience which he causes us, we will again remember your 
attentive care of my poor niece." 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 73 

The same evening our party was surprised by the arrival 
of the countess. Wilhelm trembled in every joint as she en- 
tered : she herself, though forewarned, kept close by her sis- 
ter, who speedily reached her a chair. How singularly simple 
was her attire, how altered was her form ! Wilhelm scarcely 
dared to look at her : she saluted him with a kindly air ; a 
few general words addressed to him did not conceal her sen- 
timents and feelings. The marchese had retired betimes ; 
and, as the company were not disposed to part so early, the 
abbe* now produced a manuscript. " The singular narrative 
which was intrusted to me," said he, "I forthwith put on 
paper. The case where pen and ink should least of all be 
spared, is in recording the particular circumstances of 
remarkable events." They informed the countess of the 
matter ; and the abbe read as follows, in the name of the 
marchese : — 

" Many men as I have seen, I still regard my father as a 
very extraordinary person. His character was noble and 
upright ; his ideas were enlarged, I may even say great ; to 
himself he was severe : in all his plans there was a rigid 
order, in all operations an unbroken perseverance. In one 
sense, therefore, it was easy to transact and live with him : 
yet, owing to the very qualities which made it so, he never 
could accommodate himself to life ; for he required from the 
state, from his neighbors, from his children, and his servants, 
the observance of all the laws which he had laid upon him- 
self. His most moderate demands became exorbitant by his 
rigor ; and he never could attain to enjoyment, for nothing 
ever was completed as he had forecast it. At the moment 
when he was erecting a palace, laying out a garden, or ac- 
quiring a large estate in the highest cultivation, I have seen 
him inwardly convinced, with the sternest ire, that Fate had 
doomed him to do nothing but abstain and suffer. In his 
exterior he maintained the greatest dignity : if he jested, it 
was but displaying the preponderancy of his understanding. 
Censure was intolerable to him : the only time I ever saw 
him quite transported with rage was once when he heard that 
one of his establishments was spoken of as something ludi- 
crous. In the same spirit he had settled the disposal of his 
children and his fortune. My eldest brother was educated 
as a person that had large estates to look for. I was to em- 
brace the clerical profession : the youngest was to be a 
soldier. I was of a lively temper, fiery, active, quick, apt 
for corporeal exercises : the youngest rather seemed inclined 



74 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

to an enthusiastic quietism, — devoted to the sciences, to 
music, and poetry. It was not till after the hardest strug- 
gle, the maturest conviction of the impossibility of his 
project, that our father, still reluctantly, agreed to let us 
change vocations ; and, although he saw us both contented, 
he could never suit himself to this arrangement, but declared 
that nothing good would come of it. The older he grew, the 
more isolated did he feel from all society. At last he came 
to live almost entirely alone. One old friend, who had served 
in the German armies, who had lost his wife in the campaign, 
and brought a daughter of about ten years of age along with 
him, remained his only visitor. This person bought a fine 
little property beside us : he used to come and see my father 
on stated days of the week, and at stated hours ; his little 
daughter often came along with him. He was never heard to 
contradict my father, who at length grew perfectly habitu- 
ated to him, and endured him as the only tolerable company 
he had. After our father's death, we easily observed that this 
old gentleman had not been visiting for naught, — that his 
compliances had been rewarded by an ample settlement. He 
enlarged his estates : his daughter might expect a handsome 
portion. The girl grew up, and was extremely beautiful : 
my elder brother often joked with me about her, saying I 
should go and court her. 

" Meanwhile brother Augustin, in the seclusion of his 
cloister, had been spending his years in the strangest state of 
mind. He abandoned himself wholly to the feeling of a holy 
enthusiasm, to those half -spiritual, half-physical emotions 
which, as they for a time exalted him to the third heaven, ere- 
long sank him down to an abyss of powerlessness and vacant 
misery. While my father lived, no change could be contem- 
plated : what, indeed, could we have asked for or proposed? 
After the old man's death, our brother visited us frequently : 
his situation, which at first afflicted us, in time became much 
more tolerable ; for his reason had at length prevailed. But, 
the more confidently reason promised him complete recovery 
and contentment on the pure path of nature, the more vehe- 
mently did he require of us to free him from his vows. His 
thoughts, he let us know, were turned upon Sperata, our fair 
neighbor. 

c k My elder brother had experienced too much suffering 
from the harshness of our father to look on the condition of 
the youngest without sympathy. He spoke with the family 
confessor, a worthy old man : we signified to him the double 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 75 

purpose of our brother, and requested him to introduce and 
expedite the business. Contrary to custom he delayed ; and 
at last, when Augustin pressed us, and we recommended the 
affair more keenly to the clergyman, he had nothing left but 
to impart the strange secret to us. 

" Sperata was our sister, and that by both her parents. 
Our mother had declared herself with child at a time when 
both she and our father were advanced in years : a similar 
occurrence had shortly before been made the subject of some 
merriment in our neighborhood ; and our father, to avoid such 
ridicule, determined to conceal this late lawful fruit of love 
as carefully as people use to conceal its earlier accidental 
fruits. Our mother was delivered secretty : the child was 
carried to the country ; and the old friend of the family, 
who, with the confessor, had alone been trusted with the 
secret, easily engaged to give her out for his daughter. The 
confessor had reserved the right of disclosing the secret in 
case of extremity. The supposed father was now dead : 
Sperata was living with an old lady ; we were aware that a 
love of song and music had already led our brother to her ; 
and on his again requiring us to undo his former bond, that 
he might engage himself by a new one, it was necessary that 
we should, as soon as possible, apprise him of the danger he 
stood in. 

" He viewed us with a wild, contemptuous look. ' Spare 
your idle tales,' cried he, ' for children and credulous fools : 
from me, from my heart, they shall not tear Sperata ; she is 
mine. Recall, I pray you, instantly, your frightful spectre, 
which would but harass me in vain. Sperata is not my sister : 
she is my wife ! ' He described to us, in rapturous terms, 
how this heavenly girl had drawn him out of his unnatural 
state of separation from his fellow-creatures into true life ; 
how their spirits accorded like their voices ; how he blessed his 
sufferings and errors, since they had kept clear of him women, 
till the moment when he wholly and forever gave himself to 
this most amiable being. We were shocked at the discovery, 
we deplored his situation, but we knew not how to help 
ourselves ; for he declared, with violence, that Sperata was 
with a child by him. Our confessor did whatever duty could 
suggest to him, but by this means he only made the evil 
worse. The demands of nature and religion, moral rights 
and civil laws, were vehemently attacked and spurned at by 
our brother. He considered nothing holy but his relation to 
Sperata, nothing dignified but the names of father and wife. 



76 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

'These alone,' cried he, 'are suitable to nature: all else is 
caprice and opinion. Were there not noble nations which 
admitted marriage with a sister? Name not your gods ! You 
never name them but when you wish to befool us, to lead us 
from the paths of nature, and, by scandalous constraint, to 
transform the noblest inclinations into crimes. Unspeakable 
are the perplexities, abominable the abuses, into which you 
force the victims whom you bury alive. 

U 'I may speak, for I have suffered like no other, — from 
the highest, sweetest feeling of enthusiasm, to the frightful 
deserts of utter powerlessness, vacancy, annihilation, and 
despair ; from the loftiest aspirations of preternatural exist- 
ence, to the most entire unbelief, — unbelief in myself. All 
these horrid grounds of the cup, so flattering at the brim, I 
have drained ; and my whole being was poisoned to its core. 
And now, when kind Nature, by her greatest gift, by love, 
has healed me ; now, when in the arms of a heavenly crea- 
ture I again feel that I am, that she is, that out of this living 
union a third shall arise and smile in our faces, — now ye 
open up the flames of your hell, of your purgatory, which 
can only singe a sick imagination : ye oppose them to the 
vivid, true, indestructible enjoyment of pure love. Meet 
us under these cypresses, which turn their solemn tops to 
heaven ; visit us among those espaliers where the citrons and 
pomegranates bloom beside us, where the graceful myrtle 
stretches out its tender flowers to us, — and then venture to 
disturb us with your dreary, paltry nets which men have 
spun ! ' 

" Thus for a long time he persisted in a stubborn disbelief 
of our story ; and when we assured him of its truth, when 
the confessor himself asseverated it, he did not let it drive 
him from his point. ' Ask not the echoes of your cloisters, 
not your mouldering parchments, not your narrow whims 
and ordinances ! Ask Nature and your heart : she will teach 
you what you should recoil from ; she will point out to you 
with the strictest finger over what she has pronounced her 
everlasting curse. Look at the lilies : do not husband and 
wife shoot forth on the same stalk? Does not the flower 
which bore them hold them both ? And is not the lily the 
type of innocence? Is not their sisterly union fruitful? 
When Nature abhors, she speaks it aloud ; the creature that 
shall not be, is not produced ; the creature that lives with a 
false life, is soon destroyed. Unfruitfulness, painful exist- 
ence, early destruction, these are her curses, the marks of 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. , 77 

her displeasure. It is only by immediate consequences that 
she punishes. Look around you ; and what is prohibited, 
what is accursed, will force itself upon your notice. In the 
silence of the convent, in the tumult of the world, a thou- 
sand practices are consecrated and revered, while her curse 
rests on them. On stagnant idleness as on overstrained toil, 
on caprice and superfluity as on constraint and want, she 
looks down with mournful eyes ; her call is to moderation ; 
true are all her commandments, peaceful all her influences. 
The man who has suffered as I have done, has a right to be 
free. Sperata is mine : death alone shall take her from me. 
How I shall retain her, how I may be happ}', these are your 
cares. This instant I go to her, and part from her no more.' 

" He was for proceeding to the boat, and crossing over to 
her : we restrained him, entreating that he would not take 
a step which might produce the most tremendous conse- 
quences. He should recollect, we told him, that he was not 
living in the free world of his own thoughts and ideas, but 
in a constitution' of affairs, the ordinances and conditions of 
which had become as inflexible as laws of nature. The con- 
fessor made us promise not to let him leave our sight, still 
less our house : after this he went away, engaging to return 
erelong. What we had foreseen took place : reason had 
made our brother strong, but his heart was weak ; the earlier 
impressions of religion rose on him, and dreadful doubts 
along with them. He passed two fearful nights and days : 
the confessor came again to his assistance, but in vain. His 
enfranchised understanding acquitted him : his feelings, re- 
ligion, all his usual ideas, declared him guilty. 

" One morning we found his chamber empty : on the table 
lay a note, in which he signified, that, as we kept him pris- 
oner by force, he felt himself entitled to provide for his free- 
dom ; that he meant to go directly to Sperata ; he expected 
to escape with her, and was prepared for the most terrible 
extremities should any separation be attempted. 

" The news, of course, affrighted us exceedingly ; but the 
confessor bade us be at rest. Our poor brother had been 
narrowly enough observed : the boatman, in place of taking 
him across, proceeded with him to his cloister. Fatigued 
with watching for the space of four and twenty hours, he 
fell asleep, as the skiff began to rock him in the moonshine ; 
and he did not awake till he saw himself in the hands of his 
spiritual brethren : he did not recover from his amazement 
till he heard the doors of the convent bolting behind him. 



78 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

" Sharply touched at the fate of our brother, we reproached 
the coufessor for his cruelty ; but he soon silenced or con- 
vinced us by the surgeon's reason, that our pity was destruc- 
tive to the patient. He let us know that he was not act- 
iug on his own authority, but by order of the bishop and 
his chapter ; that by this proceeding they intended to avoid 
all public scandal, and to shroud the sad occurrence under 
the veil of a secret course of discipline prescribed by the 
Church. Our sister they would spare : she was not to be 
told that her lover was her brother. The charge of her was 
given to a priest, to whom she had before disclosed her situ- 
ation. They contrived to hide her pregnancy and her deliv- 
ery. As a mother she felt altogether happy in her little one. 
Like most of our women, she could neither write, nor read 
writing : she gave the priest many verbal messages to carry 
to her lover. The latter, thinking that he owed this pious 
fraud to a suckling mother, often brought pretended tidings 
from our brother, whom he never saw ; recommending her, 
in his name, to be at peace ; begging of her to be careful of 
here If and of her child, and for the rest to trust in God, 

" Sperata was inclined by nature to religious feelings. 
Her situation, her solitude, increased this tendency : the 
clergyman encouraged it, in order to prepare her by degrees 
for an eternal separation. Scarcely was her child weaned, 
scarcely did he think her body strong enough for suffering 
agony of mind, when he began to paint her fault to her in 
most terrific colors, to treat the crime of being connected 
with a priest as a sort of sin against nature, as a sort of in- 
cest For he had taken up the strange thought of making 
her repentance equal in intensity to what it would have been 
had she known the true circumstances of her error. He 
thereby produced so much anxiety and sorrow in her mind ; 
he so exalted the idea of the Church and of its head before 
her ; showed her the awful consequences, for the weal of all 
men's souls, should indulgence in a case like this be granted, 
and the guilty pair rewarded by a lawful union ; signifying, 
too, how wholesome it was to expiate such sins in time, and 
thereby gain the crown of immortality, — that at last, like a 
poor criminal, she willingly held out her neck to the axe, 
and earnestly entreated that she might forever be divided 
from our brother. Having gained so much, the clergy left 
her the liberty (reserving to themselves a certain distant 
oversight) to live at one time in a convent, at another in 
her house, according as she afterwards thought good. 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 79 

" Her little girl, meanwhile, was growing: from her ear- 
liest years she had displayed an extraordinary disposition. 
When still very' young, she could run and move with won- 
derful dexterity : she sang beautifully, and learned to play 
upon the cithern almost of herself. With words, however, 
she could not express herself; and the impediment seemed 
rather to proceed from her mode of thought than from her 
organs of speech. The feelings of the poor mother to her, 
in the mean time, were of the most painful kind : the ex- 
postulations of the priest had so perplexed her mind, that, 
though she was not quite deranged, her state was far from 
being sane. She daily thought her crime more terrible and 
punishable : the clergyman's comparison of incest, frequently 
repeated, had impressed itself so deeply, that her horror was 
not less than if the actual circumstances had been known to 
her. The priest took no small credit for his ingenuity, with 
which he had contrived to tear asunder a luckless creature's 
heart. It was miserable to behold maternal love, ready to 
expand itself in joy at the existence of her child, contending 
with the frightful feeling that this child should not exist. 
The two emotions warred with each other in her soul : love 
was often weaker than aversion. 

" The child had long ago been taken from her, and com- 
mitted to a worthy family residing on the seashore. In the 
greater freedom which the little creature enjoyed here, she 
soon displayed her singular delight in climbing. To mount 
the highest peaks, to run along the edges of the ships, to 
imitate in all their strangest feats the rope-dancers whom 
she often saw in the place, seemed a natural tendency in her. 

" To practise these things with the greater ease, she liked 
to change clothes with boys ; and, though her foster-parents 
thought this highly blamable and unbecoming, we bade them 
indulge her as much as possible. Her wild walks and leap- 
ings often led her to a distance : she would lose her way, 
and be long from home, but she always came back. In 
general, as she returned, she used to set herself beneath the 
columns in the portal of a country house in the neighbor- 
hood : her people now had ceased to look for her ; they 
waited for her. She would there lie resting on the steps, 
then run up and down the large hall, looking at the statues ; 
after which, if nothing specially detained her, she used to 
hasten home. 

" But at last our confidence was balked, and our indul- 
gence punished. The child went out, and did not come again : 



80 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

her little hat was found swimming on the water near the spot 
where a torrent rushes down into the sea. It was conjectured, 
that, in clambering among the rocks, her foot had slipped : 
all our searching could not find the body. 

" The thoughtless tattle of her housemates soon com- 
municated the occurrence to Sperata : she seemed calm and 
cheerful when she heard it ; hinting not obscurely at her 
satisfaction that God had pleased to take her poor child to 
himself , and thus preserved it from suffering, or causing some 
more dreadful misery. 

" On this occasion all the fables which are told about our 
waters came to be the common talk. The sea, it was said, 
required every year an innocent child : yet it would endure 
no corpse, but sooner or later throw it to the shore ; nay, the 
last joint, though sunk to the lowest bottom, must again 
come forth. They told the story of a mother, inconsolable 
because her child had perished in the sea, who prayed to God 
and his saints to grant her at least the bones for burial. The 
first storm threw ashore the skull, the next the spine ; and, 
after all was gathered, she wrapped the bones in a cloth, and 
took them to the church : but, oh ! miraculous to tell ! as she 
crossed the threshold of the temple, the packet grew heavier 
and heavier ; and at last, when she laid it on the steps of the 
altar, the child began to cry, and issued living from the cloth. 
One joint of the right-hand little finger was alone wanting : 
this, too, the mother anxiously sought and found ; and, in 
memory of the event, it was preserved among the other 
relics of the church. 

" On poor Sperata these recitals made a deep impression : 
her imagination took a new flight, and favored the emotion 
of her heart. She supposed that now the child had expiated, 
b} T its death, both its own sins and the sins of its parents ; 
that the curse and penalty which hitherto had overhung them 
all was at length wholly removed ; that nothing more was 
necessary could she only find the child's bones, that she 
might carry them to Rome, where, upon the steps of the great 
altar in St. Peter's, her little girl, again covered with its 
fair, fresh skin, would stand up alive before the people. 
With its own eyes it would once more look on father and 
mother ; and the pope, convinced that God and his saints 
commanded it, would, amid the acclamations of the people, 
remit the parents their sins, acquit them of their oaths, and 
join their hands in wedlock. 

" Her looks and her anxiety were henceforth constantly 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 81 

directed to the sea and the beach. When at night, in the 
moonshine, the waves were tossing to and fro, she thought 
every glittering sheet of foam was bringing out her child ; 
and some one about her had to run off, as if to take it up 
when it should reach the shore. 

" By day she walked unweariedly along the places where 
the pebbly beach shelved slowly to the water : she gathered 
in a little basket all the bones she could find. None durst 
tell her that they were the bones of animals : the larger ones 
she buried, the little ones she took along with her. In this 
employment she incessantly persisted. The clergyman, who, 
by so unremittingly discharging what he thought his duty, 
had reduced her to this condition, now stood up for her with 
all his might. By his influence the people in the neighbor- 
hood were made to look upon her, not as a distracted person, 
but as one entranced : they stood in reverent attitudes as 
she walked by, and the children ran to kiss her hand. 

" To the old woman, her attendant and faithful friend, the 
secret of Sperata's guilt was at length imparted by the 
priest, on her solemnly engaging to watch over the unhappy 
creature, with untiring care, through all her life. And she 
kept this engagement to the last, with admirable conscien- 
tiousness and patience. 

" Meanwhile we had always had an eye upon our brother. 
Neither the physicians nor the clergy of his convent would 
allow us to be seen by him ; but, in order to convince us of 
his being well in some sort, we had leave to look at him as 
often as we liked in the garden, the passages, or even through 
a window in the roof of his apartment. 

" After many terrible and singular changes, which I shall 
omit, he had passed into a strange state of mental rest and 
bodily unrest. He never sat but when he took his harp 
and played upon it, and then he usually accompanied it with 
singing. At other times he kept continually in motion ; 
and in all things he was grown extremely guidable and pliant, 
for all his passions seemed to have resolved themselves into 
the single fear of death. You could persuade him to do any 
thing by threatening him with dangerous sickness or with 
death. 

' ' Besides this singularity of walking constantly about the 
cloister, a practice which he hinted it were better to exchange 
for wandering over hill and dale, he talked about an ap- 
parition which perpetually tormented him. He declared, 
that, on awakening at whatever hour of the night, he saw a 



82 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

beautiful boy standing at the foot of his bed, with a bare 
knife, and threatening to destroy him. They shifted him to 
various other chambers of the convent, but he still asserted 
that the boy pursued him. His wandering to and fro became 
more unrestful : the people afterwards remembered, too, that 
at this time they had often seen him stand at the window, 
and look out upon the sea. 

"Our poor sister, on the other hand, seemed gradually 
wasting under the consuming influence of her single thought, 
of her narrow occupation. It was at last proposed by the 
physician, that, among the bones she had gathered, the frag- 
ments of a child's skeleton should by degrees be introduced, 
and so the hapless mother's hopes kept up. The experiment 
was dubious ; but this at least seemed likely to be gained by 
it, that, when all the parts were got together, she would cease 
her weary search, and might be entertained with hopes of 
going to Rome. 

" It was accordingly resolved on. Her attendant changed, 
by imperceptible degrees, the small remains committed to 
her with the bones Sperata found. An inconceivable delight 
arose in the poor, sick woman's heart, when the parts began 
to fit each other, and the shape of those still wanting could 
be marked. She had fastened every fragment in its proper 
place with threads and ribbons ; filling up the vacant spaces 
with embroidery and silk, as is usually done with the relics 
of saints. 

' ' In this way nearly all the bones had been collected : none 
but a few of the extremities were wanting. One morning, 
while she was asleep, the physician having come to ask for 
her, the old attendant, with a view to show him how his pa- 
tient occupied herself, took away these dear remains from 
the little chest where they lay in poor Sperata' s bedroom. 
A few minutes afterwards they heard her spring upon the 
floor : she lifted up the cloth, and found the chest empty. 
She threw herself upon her knees : they came, and listened to 
her joyful, ardent prayer. ' Yes,' exclaimed she, ' it is true ! 
it was no dream, it is real ! Rejoice with me, my friends ! I 
have seen my own beautiful, good little girl again alive. She 
arose, and threw the veil from off her ; her splendor enlight- 
ened all the room ; her beauty was transfigured to celestial 
loveliness ; she could not tread the ground, although she 
wished it. Lightly was she borne aloft : she had not even 
time to stretch her hand to me. k ' There! '* cried she to me, 
and pointed to the road where I am soon to go. Yes, I will 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 83 

follow her, — soon follow her : my heart is light to think of 
it. My sorrows are already vanished : the sight of my risen 
little one has given me a foretaste of the heavenly joys.' 

" From that time her soul was wholly occupied with pros- 
pects of the brightest kind ; she gave no further heed to any 
earthly object ; she took but little food ; her spirit by degrees 
cast off the fetters of the body. At last this imperceptible 
gradation reached its head unexpectedly : her attendants 
found her pale and motionless ; she opened not her eyes ; 
she was what we call dead. 

"The report of her vision quickly spread abroad among 
the people ; and the reverential feeling, which she had excited 
in her lifetime, soon changed, at her death, to the thought 
that she should be regarded as in bliss, — nay, as in sanc- 
tity. 

"When we were bearing her to be interred, a crowd of 
persons pressed with boundless violence about the bier : they 
would touch her hand, they would touch her garment. In 
this impassioned elevation, various sick persons ceased to 
feel the pains by which at other times the} 7 were tormented : 
they looked upon themselves as healed ; they declared it ; 
they praised God and his new saint. The clergy were obliged 
to lay the body in a neighboring chapel : the people called 
for opportunity to offer their devotion. The concourse was 
incredible : the mountaineers, at all times prone to lively and 
religious feelings, crowded forward from their valleys ; the 
reverence, the wonder, the adoration, daily spread, and gath- 
ered strength. The ordinances of the bishop, which were 
meant to limit, and in time abolish, this new worship, could 
not be put in execution : every show of opposition raised the 
people into tumults ; every unbeliever they were ready to 
assail with personal violence. ' Did not Saint Borromaeus,' 
cried they, ' dwell among our forefathers ? Did not his 
mother live to taste the joy of his canonization ? Was not 
that great figure on the rocks at Arona meant to represent 
to us, by a sensible symbol, his spiritual greatness? Do not 
the descendants of his kindred live among us to this hour? 
And has not God promised ever to renew his miracles among 
a people that believe ? ' 

"As the body, after several days, exhibited no marks of 
putrefaction, but grew whiter, and, as it were, translucent, 
the general faith rose higher and higher. Among the mul- 
titude were several cures which even the sceptical observer 
was unable to account for, or ascribe entirely to fraud. The 



84 MEISTERS APPRENTICESHIP 

whole country was in motion : those who did nut go to see 
it, heard at least no other topic talked of. 

" The convent where my brother lived resounded, like the 
land at large, with the noise of these wonders ; and the peo- 
ple felt the less restraint in speaking of them in his presence, 
as in general he seemed to pay no heed to any thing, and his 
connection with the circumstance was known to none of them. 
But on this occasion it appeared he had listened with atten- 
tion. He conducted his escape with such dexterity and can- 
ning, that the manner of it still remains a mystery. We 
learned afterwards, that he had crossed the water with a 
number of travellers, and charged the boatmen, who ob- 
served no other singularity about him, above all to have a 
care lest their vessel overset. Late in the night he reached 
the chapel, where his hapless loved one was resting from her 
woes. Only a few devotees were kneeling in the corners of 
the place : her old friend was sitting at the head of the corpse ; 
he walked up to her, saluted her, and asked how her mistress 
was. k You see it,' answered she, with some embarrassment. 
He looked at the corpse with a sidelong glance. After some 
delay he took its hand. Frightened by its coldness, he in 
the instant let it go : he looked unrestfully around him ; 
then, turning to the old attendant, ' I cannot stay with her at 
present,' said he : 4 1 have a long, long way to travel; but 
at the proper time I shall be back : tell her so when she 
awakens.' 

" With this he went away. It was a while before we got 
intelligence of these occurrences : we searched, but all our 
efforts to discover him were vain. How he worked his way 
across the mountains none can say. A long time after he 
was gone we came upon a trace of him among the Grisons, 
but we were too late : it quickly vanished. We supposed 
that he was gone to Germany, but his weak footprints had 
been speedily obliterated by the war." 



CHAPTER X. 

The abbe" ceased to read. No one had listened without 
tears. The countess scarcely ever took her handkerchief 
from her eyes : at last she rose, and, with Natalia, left the 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 85 

room. The rest were silent, till the abbe" thus began : " The 
question now arises, whether we shall let the good marchese 
leave us without telling him our secret. For who can doubt 
a moment that our harper and his brother Augustin are one? 
Let us consider what is to be done, both for the sake of that 
unhappy man himself and of his family. My advice is, not 
to hurry, but to wait till we have heard what news the doctor, 
who has gone to see him, brings us back." 

All were of the same opinion ; and the abbe* thus pro- 
ceeded : " Another question, which perhaps may be disposed 
of sooner, still remains. The marchese is affected to the 
bottom of his heart at the kindness which his poor niece 
experienced here, particularly from our young friend. He 
made me tell him again and again every circumstance con- 
nected with her, and he shows the liveliest gratitude. 4 Her 
young benefactor,' he said, ' refused to travel with me, while 
he knew not the connection that subsists between us. I am 
not now a stranger, of whose manner of existence, of whose 
humors, he might be uncertain : I am his associate, his rela- 
tion ; and, as his unwillingness to leave his boy behind was 
the impediment which kept him from accompanying me, let 
this child now become a fairer bond to join us still more 
closely. Beyond the obligations he has already placed me 
under, let him be of service to me on my present journey ; 
let him, then, return along with me ; my elder brother will 
receive him as he ought. And let him not despise the heri- 
tage of his unhappy foster-child ; for, by a secret stipulation 
of our father with his military friend, the fortune which he 
gave Sperata has returned to us : and certainly we will not 
cheat our niece's benefactor of the recompense he has merited 
so well.' " 

Theresa, taking Wilhelm by the hand, now said to him, 
' ' We have here another beautiful example that disinterested 
well-doing yields the highest and best return. Follow the 
call which so strangely comes to you, and, while you lay a 
double load of gratitude on the marchese, hasten to a fair 
land, which has already often drawn your heart and your 
imagination towards it." 

"I leave myself entirely to the guidance of my friends 
and you," said Wilhelm : " it is vain to think, in this world, 
of adhering to our individual will. What I purposed to hold 
fast, I must let go ; and benefits which I have not deserved 
descend upon me of their own accord." 

Pressing Theresa's hand, Wilhelm took his own away. 



86 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

"I give you full permission," said he to the abbe, "to 
decide about me as you please. Since I shall not need to 
leave my Felix, I am ready to go any whither, and to under- 
take whatever you think good." 

Thus authorized, the abbe" forthwith sketched out his 
plan. The marchese, he proposed, should be allowed to de- 
part : Wilhelm was to wait for tidings from the doctor ; he 
might then, when they had settled what was to be done, set 
off with Felix. Accordingly, under the pretence that Wil- 
helm' s preparations for his journey would detain him, he ad- 
vised the stranger to employ the mean while in examining the 
curiosities of the city, which he meant to visit. The mar- 
chese did in consequence depart, and not without renewed 
and strong expressions of his gratitude ; of which indeed 
the presents left by him, including jewels, precious stones, 
embroidered stuffs, afforded a sufficient proof. 

Wilhelm, too, was at length in readiness for travelling ; and 
his friends began to be distressed that the doctor sent them 
no news. They feared some mischief had befallen the poor 
old harper, at the very moment when they were in hopes of 
radically improving his condition. They sent the courier 
off ; but he was scarcely gone, when the doctor in the even- 
ing entered with a stranger, whose form and aspect were 
expressive, earnest, striking, and whom no one knew. Both 
stood silent for a space : the stranger at length went up to 
Wilhelm, and, holding out his hand, said, " Do you no 
longer know your old friend?" It was the harper's voice, 
but of his form there seemed to remain no vestige. He was 
in the common garb of a traveller, cleanly and genteelly 
equipped ; his beard had vanished ; his hair was dressed with 
some attention to the mode ; and what particularly made him 
quite irrecognizable was, that in his countenance the look of 
age was no longer visible. Wilhelm embraced him with the 
liveliest joy : he was presented to the rest, and behaved with 
great propriety, not knowing that the party had a little while 
before become so well acquainted with him. "You will 
have patience with a man," continued he, with great com- 
posure, " who, grown up as he appears, is entering on the 
world, after long sorrows, inexperienced as a child. To this 
skilful gentleman I stand indebted for the privilege of again 
appearing in the company of my fellow-men." 

They bade him welcome : the doctor motioned for a walk, 
to interrupt the conversation, and lead it to indifferent topics. 

In private the doctor gave the following explanation : "It 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 87 

was by the strangest chance that we succeeded in the cure 
of this man. We had long treated him, morally and physi- 
cally, as our best consideration dictated : in some degree the 
plan was efficacious ; but the fear of death continued power- 
ful in him, and he would not lay aside his beard and cloak. 
For the rest, however, he appeared to take more interest 
in external things than formerly ; and both his songs and 
his conceptions seemed to be approaching nearer life. A 
strange letter from the clergyman, as you already know, called 
me from you. I arrived : I found our patient altogether 
changed ; he had voluntarily given up his beard ; he had let 
his locks be cut into a customary form ; he asked for common 
clothes ; he seemed to have all at once become another man. 
Though curious to penetrate the reason of this sudden alter- 
ation, we did not risk inquiring of himself : at last we acci- 
dentally discovered it. A glass of laudanum was missing 
from the parson's private laboratory : we thought it right to 
institute a strict inquiry ; every one endeavored to ward off 
suspicion, and the sharpest quarrels rose among the inmates 
of the house. At last this man appeared before us, and 
admitted that he had the laudanum : we asked if he had 
swallowed any of it. 'No,' said he, ' but it is to this that 
I owe the recovery of my reason. It is at your choice to 
take the vial from me, and to drive me back, inevitably, 
to my former state. The feeling, that it was desirable to see 
the pains of life terminated by death, first put me on the 
way of cure : before long the thought of terminating them 
by voluntary death arose in me, and with this intention I took 
the glass of poison. The possibility of casting off my load 
of griefs forever gave me strength to bear them ; and thus 
have I, ever since this talisman came into my possession, 
forced myself back into life by a contiguity with death. Be 
not anxious lest I use the drug, but resolve, as men ac- 
quainted with the human heart, by granting me an independ- 
ence of life, to make me properly and wholesomely dependent 
on it.' After mature consideration, we determined not to 
meddle further with him.; and he now carries with him, in a 
firm little ground-glass vial, this poison, of which he has so 
strangely made an antidote." 

The doctor was informed of all that had become known in 
the mean time : towards Augustin it was determined that they 
should observe the deepest silence in regard to it. The abbe" 
undertook to keep beside him, and to lead him forward on 
the healthful path he had entered. 



88 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

Meanwhile Wilhelm was to set about his journey over 
Germany with the marchese. If it should appear that 
Augustin could be again excited to affection for his native 
country, the circumstances were to be communicated to his 
friends, and Wilhelm might conduct him thither. 

Wilhelm had at last made every preparation for his jour- 
ney. At first the abbe* thought it strange that Augustin 
rejoiced in hearing of his friend and benefactor's purpose to 
depart, but he soon discovered the foundation of this curious 
movement. Augustin could not subdue his fear of Felix ; 
and he longed, as soon as possible, to see the boy removed. 

By degrees so many people had assembled, that the castle 
and adjoining buildings could scarcely accommodate them all, 
and the less, as such a multitude of guests had not originally 
been anticipated. They breakfasted, they dined, together : 
each endeavored to persuade himself that they were living in 
a comfortable harmony ; but each, in secret, longed in some 
degree to be away. Theresa frequently rode out, attended 
by Lothario, and oftener alone : she had already got ac- 
quainted with all the landladies and landlords in the district ; 
for she held it as a principle of her economy, in which, per- 
haps, she was not far mistaken, that it is essential to be in 
good acceptance with one's neighbors, male and female, and 
to maintain with them a constant interchange of civilities. 
Of an intended marriage with Lothario, she appeared to have 
no thought. Natalia and the countess often talked with one 
another ; the abbe seemed to covet the society of Augustin ; 
Jarno had frequent conversations with the doctor ; Friedrich 
held by Wilhelm ; Felix ran about wherever he could meet 
with most amusement. It was thus, too, that in general they 
paired themselves in walking when the company broke up : 
when it was obliged to be together, recourse was quickly had 
to music, to unite them all by giving each back to himself. 

Unexpectedly the count increased the party ; intending to 
remove his lady, and, as it appeared, to take a solemn fare- 
well of his worldly friends. Jarno hastened to the coach 
to meet him : the count inquired what guests they had ; to 
which the other answered, in a fit of wild humor that would 
often seize him, " We have all the nobility in nature, — mar- 
cheses, marquises, milords, and barons : we wanted nothing 
but a count." They came up-stairs : Wilhelm was the first 
who met them in the ante-chamber. " Milord," said the 
count to him in French, after looking at him for a moment, 
" I rejoice very much in the unexpected pleasure of renewing 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 89 

my acquaintance with your lordship : I am very much mis- 
taken if I did not see you at my castle in the prince's suite." 
i c I had the happiness of waiting on your Excellence at that 
time," answered Wilhelm ; " but you do me too much honor 
when you take me for an Englishman, and that of the first 
quality. I am a German, and" — " And a fine young- 
fellow," interrupted Jarno. The count looked at Wilhelm 
with a smile, and was about to make some reply, when the 
rest of the party entered, and saluted him with many a 
friendly welcome. They excused themselves for being unable 
at the moment to show him to a proper chamber, promising 
without delay to make the necessary room for him. 

"Ay, ay ! " said he, smiling: "we have left Chance, I 
see, to act as our purveyor. Yet with prudence and arrange- 
ment, how much is possible ! For the present I entreat you 
not to stir a slipper from its place : the disorder, I perceive, 
would otherwise be great. Every one would be uncomfort- 
ably lodged ; and this no one shall be on my account, if 
possible, not even for an hour. You can testify," said he 
to Jarno, " and you, too, Meister," turning to Wilhelm, 
" how many people I commodiously stowed that time in my 
castle. Let me have the list of persons and servants ; let me 
see how they are lodged at present : I will make a plan of 
dislocation, such that, with the very smallest inconvenience, 
every one shall find a suitable apartment ; and there shall be 
room enough to hold another guest if one should accidentally 
arrive." 

Jarno at once offered the count his assistance, procured 
him all the necessary information ; taking great delight, as 
usual, if he could now and then contrive to lead him astray, 
and leave him in awkward difficulties. The old gentleman 
at last, however, gained a signal triumph. The arrangement 
was completed : he caused the names to be written on their 
several doors, himself attending ; and it could not be denied, 
that, by a very few changes and substitutions, the object had 
been fully gained. Jarno, among other things, had also man- 
aged, that the persons who at present took an interest in each 
other should be lodged together. 

" Will you help me," said the count to Jarno, after every 
thing was settled, " to clear up my recollections of the young 
man there, whom you call Meister, and who you tell me is a 
German?" Jarno was silent; for he knew very well that 
the count was one of those people who, in asking questions, 
merely wish to show their knowledge. The count, accord- 



90 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

ingly, continued, without waiting for an answer, " You, I 
recollect, presented him to me, and warmly recommended 
him in the prince's name. If his mother was a German 
woman, I '11 be bound for it his father is an Englishman, and 
one of rank too : who can calculate the English blood that 
has been flowing these last thirty years in German veins ! 
I will not insist on knowing more : I know you have always 
family secrets of that kind, but in such cases it is in vain to 
think of cheating me." He then proceeded to detail a great 
variety of things as having taken place with Wilhelm at the 
castle, to the whole of which Jarno, as before, made no 
reply ; though the count was altogether in the wrong, con- 
founding Wilhelm more than once with a young Englishman 
of the prince's suite. The truth was, the good old gentle- 
man had in former years possessed a very excellent memory, 
and was still proud of being able to remember the minutest 
circumstances of his youth ; but, in regard to late occurrences, 
he used to settle in his mind as true, and utter with the 
greatest certainty, whatever fables and fantastic combinations, 
in the growing weakness of his powers, imagination might 
present to him. For the rest, he was become extremely mild 
and courteous : his presence had a very favorable influence 
upon the company. He would call on them to read some 
useful book together ; nay, he often gave them little games, 
which, without participating in them, he directed with the 
greatest care. If they wondered at his condescension, he 
would reply, that it became a man who differed from the 
world in weighty matters to conform to it the more anxiously 
in matters of indifference. 

In these games our friend had, more than once, an angry 
and unquiet feeling to endure. Friedrich, with his usual 
levity, took frequent opportunity of giving hints that Wilhelm 
entertained a secret passion for Natalia. How could he 
have found it out ? What entitled him to say so ? And 
would not his friends think, that, as they two were often to- 
gether, Wilhelm must have made a disclosure to him, — so 
thoughtless and unlucky a disclosure ? 

One day, while they were merrier than common at some 
such joke, Augustin, dashing up the door, rushed in with 
a frightful look ; his countenance was pale, his eyes were 
wild ; he seemed about to speak, but his tongue refused its 
office. The party were astounded : Lothario and Jarno, sup- 
posing that his madness had returned, sprang up and seized 
him. With a choked and faltering voice, then loudly and 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 91 

violently, he spoke, and cried, "Not me! Haste! Help! 
Save the child ! Felix is poisoned ! ' ' 

They let him go ; he hastened through the door : all fol- 
lowed him in consternation. They called the doctor ; Au- 
gustin made for the abbe's chamber ; they found the child, 
who seemed amazed and frightened, when they called to him 
from a distance, " What hast thou been doing? " 

"Dear papa ! " cried Felix, "I did not drink from the 
bottle, I drank from the glass : I was very thirsty." 

Augustin struck his hands together : " He is lost ! " cried 
he, then pressed through the by-standers, and hastened 
away. 

They found a glass of almond-milk upon the table, with a 
bottle near it more than half empty. The doctor came, was 
told what they had seen and heard : with horror he observed 
the well-known laudanum- vial lying empty on the table. 
He called for vinegar : he summoned all his art to his assist- 
ance. 

Natalia had the little patient taken to a room : she busied 
herself with painful care about him. The abbe had run out 
to seek Augustin, and draw some explanation from him. 
The unhappy father had been out upon the same endeavor, 
but in vain : he returned, to find anxiety and fear on every 
face. The doctor, in the mean time, had been examining 
the almond-milk in the glass ; he found it to contain a pow- 
erful mixture of opium : the child was lying on the sofa, 
seeming very sick; he begged his father u not to let them 
pour more stuff into him, not to let them plague him any 
more." Lothario had sent his people, and had ridden off 
himself, endeavoring to find some trace of Augustin. Na- 
talia sat beside the child ; he took refuge in her lap, and 
entreated earnestly for her protection, earnestly for a little 
piece of sugar : the vinegar, he said, was biting sour. The 
doctor granted his request ; the child was in a frightful agi- 
tation ; they were obliged to let him have a moment's rest. 
The doctor said that every means had been adopted : he 
would continue to do his utmost. The count came near, 
with an air of displeasure ; his look was earnest, even sol- 
emn ; he laid his hands upon the child, turned his eyes to 
heaven, and remained some moments in that attitude. Wil- 
helm, who was lying inconsolable on a seat, sprang up, and, 
casting a despairing look at Natalia, left the room. Shortly 
afterwards the count, too, left it. 

M I cannot understand." said the doctor, having paused a 



92 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

little, " how it comes that there is not the smallest trace of 
danger visible about the child. At a single gulp he must 
have swallowed an immense dose of opium ; yet I find no 
movement in his pulse but what may be ascribed to our rem- 
edies, and to the terror we have put him into." 

In a few minutes Jarno entered, with intelligence that 
Augustin had been discovered in the upper story, lying in his 
blood : a razor had been found beside him ; to all appearance 
he had cut his throat. The doctor hastened out : he met the 
people carrying down the body. The unhappy man was laid 
upon a bed, and accurately examined : the cut had gone 
across the windpipe ; a copious loss of blood had been suc- 
ceeded by a swoon ; yet it was easy to observe that life, that 
hope, was still there. The doctor put the body in a proper 
posture, joined the edges of the wound, and bandaged it. 
The night passed sleepless and full of care to all. Felix 
would not quit Natalia ; Wilhelm sat before her on a stool ; 
he had the boy's feet upon his lap ; the head and breast were 
lying upon hers. Thus did they divide the pleasing burden 
and the painful anxiety, and continue, till the day broke, in 
their uncomfortable, sad position. Natalia had given her 
hand to Wilhelm ; they did not speak a word ; they looked 
at the child, and then at one another. Lothario and Jarno 
were sitting at the other end of the room, and carrying on a 
most important conversation, — which, did not the pressure 
of events forbid us, we would gladly lay before our readers. 
The boy slept softly : he awoke quite cheerful early in the 
morning, and demanded a piece of bread and butter. 

So soon as Augustin had in some degree recovered, they 
endeavored to obtain some explanation from him. They 
learned with difficulty, and by slow degrees, that having, by 
the count's unlucky shifting, been appointed to the same 
chamber with the abbe, he had found the manuscript in 
which his story was recorded. Struck with horror on perus- 
ing it, he felt that it was now impossible for him to live, on 
which he had recourse, as usual, to the laudanum : this he 
poured into a glass of almond-milk, and raised it to his 
mouth ; but he shuddered when it reached his lips : he set it 
down untasted, went out to walk once more across the gar- 
den, and behold the face of nature ; and, on his return, he 
found the child employed in filling up the glass out of which 
it had been drinking. 

They entreated the unhappy creature to be calm : he seized 
Wilhelm by the hand with a spasmodic grasp, and cried, 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 93 

" Ah ! why did I not leave thee long ago? I knew well that 
I should kill the boy, and he me." — " The boy lives ! " said 
Wilhelm. The doctor, who had listened with attention, now 
inquired of Augustin if all the drink was poisoned. " No," 
replied he, "nothing but the glass." — " By the luckiest 
chance, then," cried the doctor, " the boy has drunk from 
the bottle ! A benignant genius has guided his hand, that 
lie did not catch at death, which stood so near and ready for 
him." — " No, no ! " cried Wilhelm, with a groan, and dap- 
pling both his hands upon his eyes. " How dreadful are the 
words ! Felix said expressly that he drank, not from the 
bottle, but the glass. His health is but a show : he will die 
among our hands." Wilhelm hastened out : the doctor went 
below, and taking Felix up, with much caressing, asked, 
" Now, did not you, my pretty boy? You drank from the 
bottle, not the glass? " The child began to cry. The doc- 
tor secretly informed Natalia how the matter stood : she also 
strove in vain to get the truth from Felix, who but cried the 
more, — cried till he fell asleep. 

Wilhelm watched by him : the night went peacefully away. 
Next morning Augustin was found lying dead in bed : he 
had cheated his attendants by a seeming rest, had silently 
loosened the bandages, and bled to death. Natalia went to 
walk with Felix : he was sportful as in his happiest days. 
"You are always good to me," said Felix, "you never 
scold, you never beat, me : I will tell you the truth, I did 
drink from the bottle. Mamma Aurelia used to rap me over 
the fingers every time I touched the bottle : father looked so 
sour, I thought he would beat me." 

With winged steps Natalia hastened to the castle : Wil- 
helm came, still overwhelmed with care, to meet her. " Hap- 
py father ! " cried she, lifting up the child, and throwing it 
into his arms: "there is thy son again! He drank from 
the bottle : his naughtiness has saved him." 

They told the count the happy issue ; but he listened with 
a smiling, silent, modest air of knowingness, like one tolerat- 
ing the error of worthy men. Jarno, attentive to all, could 
not explain this lofty self-complacency, till, after many 
windings, he at last discovered it to be his lordship's firm 
belief, that the child had really taken poison, and that he 
himself, b} T prayer and the laying on of hands, had miracu- 
lously counteracted the effects of it. After such a feat, his 
lordship now determined on departing. Every thing, as usual 
with him, was made ready in a moment : the fair countess, 



94 MINISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP 

when about to go, took WUhelm's hand before parting with 
her sister's ; she then pressed both their hands between her 
own, turned quickly round, and stepped into the carriage. 

So many terrible and strange events, crowding one upon 
the back of another, inducing an unusual mode of life, and 
putting every thing into disorder and perplexity, had brought 
a sort of feverish movement into all departments of the 
house. The hours of sleep and waking, of eating, drinking, 
and social conversation, were inverted. Except Theresa, 
none of them had kept in their accustomed course. The men 
endeavored, by increased potations, to recover their good- 
humor; and, thus communicating to themselves an artificial 
vivacity, they drove away that natural vivacity which alone 
imparts to us true cheerfulness, and strength for action. 

Wilhelm, in particular, was moved and agitated by the 
keenest feelings. Those unexpected, frightful incidents had 
thrown him out of all condition to resist a passion which had 
so forcibly seized his heart. Felix was restored to him, yet 
still it seemed that he had nothing : Werner's letters, the 
directions for his journey, were in readiness ; there was noth- 
ing wanting but the resolution to remove. Every thing con- 
spired to hasten him. He could not but conjecture that 
Lothario and Theresa were awaiting his departure, that they 
might be wedded. Jarno was unusually silent : you would 
have said that he had lost a portion of his customary cheer- 
fulness. Happily the doctor helped our friend, in some de- 
gree, from this embarrassment : he declared him sick, and 
set about administering medicine to him. 

The company assembled alwa}*s in the evening : Friedrich, 
the wild madcap, who usually drank more wine than was 
meet, took possession of the talk, and by a thousand frolic- 
some citations, fantasies, and waggish allusions, often kept 
the party laughing, often, also, threw them into awkward 
difficulties, by the liberty he took to think aloud. 

In the sickness of his friend he seemed to have little faith. 
Once, when they were all together, u Pray, doctor,"' cried he, 
" how is it you call the malady our friend is laboring under? 
Will none of the three thousand names with which you deco- 
rate your ignorance apply to it? The disease at least is 
not without examples. There is one such case," continued 
he, with an emphatic tone, u in the Egyptian or Babylonian 
history." 

The company looked at one another, and smiled. 

" What call you the king?" — cried he, and stopped 



MINSTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 95 

short a moment. " Well, if you will not help me, I must 
help myself." He threw the door-leaves up, and pointed to 
the large picture in the ante-chamber. " What call you the 
goat-beard there, with the crown on, who is standing at the 
foot of the bed, making such a rueful face about his sick son ? 
How call you the beauty who enters, and in her modest, 
roguish eyes, at once brings poison and antidote ? How call 
you the quack of a doctor, who at this moment catches a 
glimpse of the reality, and, for the first time in his life, takes 
occasion to prescribe a reasonable recipe, to give a drug which 
cures to the very heart, and is at once salutiferous and 
savory ? ' ' 

In this manner he continued babbling. The company 
took it with as good a face as might be, hiding their embar- 
rassment behind a forced laugh. A slight blush overspread 
Natalia's cheeks, and betrayed the movements of her heart. 
By good fortune she was walking up and down with Jarno • 
on coming to the door, with a cunning motion she slipped 
out, walked once or twice across the ante-chamber, and re- 
tired to her room. 

The company were silent : Friedrich began to dance and 
sing, — 

" Wonders will ye see anon! 
Whatsoever' s done is done, 
Said's whatever's said: straightway, 
E'er't be day, 
Wonders will be shown." 

— Editor's version. 

Theresa had gone out to find Natalia : Friedrich pulled the 
doctor forward to the picture, pronounced a ridiculous eulo- 
gium on medicine, and glided from the room. 

Lothario had been standing all the while in the recess of a 
window : he was looking, without motion, down into the gar- 
den. Wilhelm was in the most dreadful state. Left alone 
with his friend, he still kept silence for a time ; he ran with 
a hurried glance over all his history, and at last, with shud- 
dering, surveyed his present situation : he started up, and 
cried, " If I am to blame for what is happening, for what 
you and I are suffering, punish me. In addition to my other 
miseries, deprive me of your friendship, and let me wander, 
without comfort, forth into the wide world, in which I should 
have mingled, and withdrawn myself from notice, long ago. 
But if you see in me the victim of a cruel entanglement of 
chance, out of which I could not thread my way, then give 



96 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

nie the assurance of your love, of your friendship, on a 
journey which I dare not now postpone. A time will come 
when I may tell you what has passed of late within me. 
Perhaps this is but a punishment which I am suffering,, 
because I did not soon enough disclose myself to you, be- 
cause I hesitated to display myself entirely as I was : you 
would have assisted me, you would have helped me out in 
proper season. Again and again have my eyes been opened 
to my conduct ; but it was ever too late, it was ever in vain ! 
How richly do I merit Jarno's censure ! I imagined I had 
seized it : how firmly did I purpose to employ it, to com- 
mence another life! Could I, might I, have done so? It 
avails not for mortals to complain of fate or of themselves. 
We are wretched, and appointed for wretchedness ; and what 
does it matter whether blame of ours, higher influence or 
chance, virtue or vice, wisdom or folly, plunge us into ruin? 
Farewell ! I will not stay another moment in a house where I 
have so fearfully violated the rights of hospitality. Your 
brother's indiscretion is unpardonable : it aggravates my suf- 
fering to the highest pitch, it drives me to despair." 

"And what," replied Lothario, taking Wilhelm by the 
hand, " what if your alliance with my sister were the secret 
article on which depended my alliance with Theresa ? This 
amends that noble maiden has appointed for you : she has 
vowed that these two pairs should appear together at the 
altar. ' His reason has made choice of me,' said she ; ' his 
heart demands Natalia : my reason shall assist his heart. ' 
We agreed to keep our eyes upon Natalia and yourself : we 
told the abbe of our plan, who made us promise not to 
intermeddle with this union, or attempt to forward it, but 
to suffer every thing to take its course. We have done so : 
Nature has performed her part ; our mad brother only shook 
the ripe fruit from the branch. And now, since we have 
come together so unusually, let us lead no common life : let 
us work together in a noble manner, and for noble purposes ! 
It is inconceivable how much a man of true culture can ac- 
complish for himself and others, if, without attempting to 
rule, he can be the guardian over many ; can induce them 
to do that in season which they are at any rate disposed 
enough to do ; can guide them to their objects, which in gen- 
eral they see with due distinctness, though they miss the 
road to them. Let us make a league for this : it is no 
enthusiasm, but an idea which may be fully executed, which, 
indeed, is often executed, only with imperfect consciousness, 



MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 97 

by people of benevolence and worth. Natalia is a living 
instance of it. No other need attempt to rival the plan of 
conduct which has been prescribed by Nature for that pure 
and noble soul." 

He had more to say, but Friedrich with a shout came 
jumping in. " What a garland have I earned ! " cried he : 
"how will you reward me? Myrtle, laurel, ivy, leaves of 
oak, the freshest you can find, come twist them : I have 
merits far beyond them all. Natalia is thine ! I am the 
conjurer who raised this treasure for thee." 

" He raves," said Wilhelm : "I must go." 

" Art thou empowered to speak?" inquired Lothario, 
holding Wilhelm from retiring. 

" By my own authority," said Friedrich, " and the grace 
of God. It was thus I was the wooer, thus I am the mes- 
senger : I listened at the door ; she told the abbe" every 
thing." 

" Barefaced rogue ! who bade thee listen? " said Lothario. 

" Who bade her bolt the door?" cried Friedrich. " I 
heard it all : she was in a wondrous pucker. In the night 
when Felix seemed so ill, and was lying half upon her knees, 
and thou wert sitting comfortless before her, sharing the 
beloved load, she made a vow, that, if the child died, she 
would confess her love to thee, and offer thee her hand. 
And now, when the child lives, why should she change her 
mind? What we promise under such conditions, we keep 
under any. Nothing wanting but the parson ! He will 
come, and marvel what strange news he brings." 

The abb£ entered. "We know it all," cried Friedrich- 
"be as brief as possible; it is mere formality you come 
for, — they never send for you or me on any other score." 

"He has listened," said the baron. "Scandalous!" 
exclaimed the abbe\ 

" Now, quick ! " said Friedrich. " How stands it with the 
ceremonies? These we can reckon on our fingers. You 
must travel : the marchese's invitation answers to a hair's- 
breadth. If we had you once beyond the Alps, it will all be 
right : the people are obliged to 3 t ou for undertaking any 
thing surprising ; you procure them an amusement which 
they are not called to pay for. It is as if you gave a free 
ball : all ranks partake in it." 

"In such popular festivities," replied the abb£, "you 
have done the public much service in your time ; but to-day, 
it seems, you will not let me speak at all." 

4— Goethe? Vol 8 



98 MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 

44 If it is not just as I have told it," answered Friedrich, 
4 ' let us have it better. Come round, come round : we must 
see them both together." 

Lothario embraced his friend, and led him to Natalia, 
who, with Theresa, came to meet them. All were silent. 

44 No loitering!" cried Friedrich. 44 In two days you 
may be ready for your travels. Now, think you, friend," 
continued he, addressing Wilhelm, "when we first scraped 
acquaintance, and I asked you for the pretty nosegay, who 
could have supposed you were ever to receive a flower like 
this from me ? ' ' 

44 Do not, at the moment of my highest happiness, remind 
me of those times ! ' ' 

44 Of which you need not be ashamed, any more than one 
need be ashamed of his descent. The times were very good 
times : only I cannot but laugh to look at thee ; to my mind 
thou resemblest Saul the son of Kish, who went out to seek 
his father's asses, and found a kingdom." 

44 1 know not the worth of a kingdom," answerd Wilhelm ; 
4 ' but I know I have attained a happiness which I have not 
deserved, and which I would not change with any thing in 
life." 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS; 



OR, 



THE RENUNCIANTS. 



A NOVEL. 



To travel now the Apprentice does essay, 

And every step is girt with doubt and danger: 

In truth, he uses not to sing or pray; 

But, is his path perplexed, this toilsome ranger 

Does turn an earnest eye, when mist's above him, 

To his own heart, and to the hearts that love him. 



99 



Scarce could tell you rightly 

Whether I'm the same or not, 
If you task me very tightly: 

Yes, this is my sense you've got — 
Sense that vexes, then assuages, 

Now too light, and now too dark, 
But in some few hundred pages 

May again come to the mark. 



100 



Does Fortune try thee? She had cause to do't: 
She wished thee temperate; obey, be mute! 

What, shap'st thou here at the world ! 'tis shapen long ago; 

The Maker shaped it, He thought it best even so; 

Thy lot is appointed, go follow its hest; 

Thy way is begun, thou must walk, and not rest: 

For sorrow and care cannot alter thy case; 

And running, not raging, will win thee the race. 

Enweri tells us, a most royal man, 
The deepest heart and highest head to scan: 
""In every place, at every time, thy surest chance ',■ 
Lies in decision, justice, tolerance. " 

My inheritance, how wide and fair! 
Time is my estate: to time I'm heir. 

Now it is day: be doing, every one; 

For the night cometh, wherein work can none. 

101 



102 



And so I, in Tale adjoining, 

Lift old treasures into day; 

If not gold or perfect coining, 

They are metals any way: 

Thou canst sort them, thou canst sunder, 

Thou canst melt and make them one; 

Then take that with smiling wonder, 

Stamp it like thyself, my son. 



MEISTEK'S TEAVELS. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT. 

Wilhelm was sitting under the shadow of a huge crag, on 
a shaggy, impressive spot, where the steep mountain path 
turned abruptly round a corner, down into the chasm. The 
sun was still high, and brightening the tops of the pine-trees 
in the clefts at his feet. He was looking at something in 
his note-book, when Felix, who had been clambering about^ 
came to him with a stone in his hand. " What is the name 
of this stone, father ? " said the boy. 

" I know not," answered Wilhelm. 

" Can this be gold that glitters in it so? " said Felix. 

" No, no," replied Wilhelm ; " and now I remember, peo- 
ple call it mica, or cat-gold." 

" Cat-gold ! " said the boy, smiling. " And why? " 

u I suppose, because it is false, and cats are reckoned 
false too." 

"Well, I will note that," said the son, and put in the 
stone beside the rest with which he had already filled his 
pockets. 

Scarcely was this over when, adown the steep path, a 
strange enough appearance came in sight. Two boys, beau- 
tiful as day, in colored jackets which you might have taken 
for outer shirts, came bounding down , one after the other ; 
and Wilhelm had opportunity of viewing them more closely, 
as they faltered on observing him, and stopped for a mo- 
ment. Round the elder boy's head waved rich, fair locks, 
which you looked at first, on observing him ; and then his 

J03 



104 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

clear blue eyes attracted your attention, which spread itself 
with delight over his beautiful shape. The younger, more 
like a friend than a brother, was decked with brown, sleek 
hair, which hung down over his shoulders, and the reflection 
of which appeared to be imaged in his eyes. 

These strange, and, in this wilderness, quite unexpected, 
beings, Wilhelm had not time to view more narrowly ; for he 
heard a man's voice calling down round the corner of the 
crag, in a serious, but friendly, tone, " Wiry do 3'ou stand 
still? Don't stop the way." 

Wilhelm looked upwards ; and, if the children had sur- 
prised him, what he now saw filled him with astonishment, 
A stout, firm-set, not too tall, young man, tucked up for 
walking, of brown complexion and black hair, was stepping 
firmly and carefully down the rock- way, and leading an ass 
behind him, which first presented its glossy, well-trimmed 
head, and then the fair burden it bore. A soft, lovely woman 
was seated on a large and well-pannelled saddle : in her arms, 
within a blue mantle which hung over her, lay an infant, which 
she was pressing to her breast, and looking at with indescriba- 
ble tenderness. The man did as the children had done, — 
faltered for a moment at sight of Wilhelm. The beast slack- 
ened its step, but the descent was too precipitous : the trav- 
ellers could not halt ; and Wilhelm with astonishment saw 
them vanish behind the contiguous wall of rocks. 

Nothing was more natural than that this singular procession 
should cut short his meditations. He rose in no small curi- 
osity, and looked from his position towards the chasm, to 
see whether they would not again make their appearance 
somewhere below. He was just about descending to salute 
these strange travellers, when Felix came climbing up, and 
said, "Father, may I not go home with these boys to their 
house? They want to take me with them. Thou must go 
too, the man said to me. Come ! They are waiting down 
there." 

" I will speak with them," answered Wilhelm. 

He found them at a place where the path was more level, 
and he could not but gaze in wonder at the singular figures 
which had so strongly attracted his attention. Not till now 
had it been in his power to note the peculiarities of the group. 
The young, stout man, he found, had a joiner's axe on his 
shoulder, and a long, thin iron square. The children bore 
in their hands large sedge-tufts, like palms ; and if, in this 
point, they resembled angels, they likewise carried little has- 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 105 

kets with shop-wares in them, thereby resembling the little 
daily posts, as they pass to and fro over the mountains. The 
mother also, he observed, on looking more leisurely, wore 
under her blue mantle a reddish, mild-colored, lower garment : 
so that " The Flight into Egypt," which our friend had so 
often seen painted, he now, with amazement, saw bodied 
forth before his eyes. 

The strangers exchanged salutations ; and as Wilhelm, 
from surprise and attention, could not speak, the young man 
said, " Our children have formed a friendship in these few 
moments. Will you go with us to see whether some kind 
relation will not spring up between the elder parties also ? ' ' 

Wilhelm bethought himself an instant, and then answered, 
' ' The aspect of your little family procession awakens trust 
and good will, and, to confess it frankly, curiosity no less, 
and a lively desire to be better acquainted with you. For, 
at the first glance, one might ask himself the question, 
Whether you are real travellers, or only spirits that take 
pleasure in enlivening these uninhabitable mountains by 
pleasant visions ? ' ' 

" Then, come home with us to our dwelling," said the other. 
" Come with us ! " cried the children, already drawing Felix 
along with them. " Come with us ! " said the woman, turn- 
ing her soft kindliness from the suckling to the stranger. 

Without reflecting, Wilhelm answered, " I am sorry, that, 
for the present moment, I cannot follow you. This night, at 
least, I must spend up at the Border- house. My portman- 
teau, my papers, — all is lying up there, unpacked, intrusted 
to no one. But, that I may prove my wish and purpose to 
satisfy your friendly invitation, take my Felix with you as a 
pledge. To-morrow I shall see you. How far is it? " 

"We shall be home before sunset," said the carpenter; 
" and from the Border-house you are but a league and a half. 
Your boy increases our household for this night, and to-mor- 
row we expect you." 

The man and the animal set forth. Wilhelm smiled thought- 
fully to see his Felix so soon received among the angels. The 
boy had already seized a sedge tuft, and taken the basket 
from the younger of his companions. The procession was 
again on the point of vanishing behind a ledge of rock, when 
Wilhelm recollected himself, and cried, "But how shall I 
inquire you out ? ' ' 

"Ask for St. Joseph!" sounded from the hollow; and 
the whole vision had sunk behind the blue, shady wall 3*» 



106 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

cliffs. A pious hymn, uplifted on a chorus of several voices, 
rose echoing from the distance ; and Wilhelm thought he 
could distinguish the voice of his Felix among the rest. 

He ascended the path, and thus protracted the period of 
sunset. The heavenly star, which he had more than once 
lost sight of, illuminated him afresh as he mounted higher ; 
and it was still day when he reached his inn. Once more he 
delighted himself with the vast mountain prospect, then with- 
drew to his chamber, where immediately he seized his pen, 
and passed a part of the night in writing. 

Wilhelm to Natalia. 

Now at last I have reached the summit, — the summit of the 
mountains, which will place a stronger separation betwixt us 
than all the tract I had passed over before. To my feeling, 
one is still in the neighborhood of those he loves, so long as 
the streams run down from him towards them. To-day I 
can still fancy to myself that the twig which 1 cast into the 
forest-brook may, perhaps, float down to her, may in a few 
days land at her garden ; and thus our spirit sends its images 
more easily, our heart its sympathies, by the same downward 
course. But over on the other side I fear there rises a wall 
of division against the imagination and the feelings. Yet 
this, perhaps, is but a vain anxiety ; for over on the other 
side, after all, it will not be otherwise than it is here. What 
could part me from thee ! From thee, whose own I am for- 
ever ; though a strange destiny sunders me from thee, and 
unexpectedly shuts the heaven to which I stood so near. I 
had time to compose myself; and yet no time could have 
sufficed to give me that composure, had I not gained it from 
thy mouth, from thy lips, in that decisive moment. How 
could I have torn myself away, if the enduring thread had 
not been spun which is to unite us for time and eternity ? 
Yet I must not speak of all this. Thy tender commands I 
will not break : on this mountain-top be it the last time that 
I name the word Separation before thee ! My life is to be- 
come a restless wandering. Strange duties of the wanderer 
have I to fulfil, and peculiar trials to undergo. How I often 
smile within myself when I read the terms which thou pre- 
scribedst to me, which I prescribed to myself. Many of them 
have been kept, many broken ; but, even while breaking them, 
this sheet is of use to me, this testimonial of my last confes- 
sion ? — of U iy last absolution : it speaks to me as an authori- 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 107 

tative conscience, and I again turn to the right path. I watch 
myself; and my faults no longer rush like mountain torrents, 
one over the other. 

Yet I will confess to thee I many times wonder at those 
teachers and guides of men who impose on their scholars 
nothing but external, mechanical duties. They make the 
task light for themselves as well as for the world. For this 
very part of my obligations, which at first seemed the heavi- 
est, the strangest, I now observe with greatest ease, with 
greatest satisfaction. 

I am not to stay beyond three days under one roof. I am 
to quit no inn without removing at least one league from it. 
These regulations are, in truth, calculated to make my life a 
life of travel, and to prevent the smallest thought of settle- 
ment from taking hold of me. Hitherto I have fulfilled this 
condition to the letter, not even using all the liberty it 
grants me. This is the first time that I have paused : here, 
for the first time, I sleep three nights in the same bed. From 
this spot I send thee much that I have heard, observed, laid 
up for thee ; and early in the morning I descend on the other 
side, — in the first place, to a strange family, I might almost 
say, a Holy Family, of which, in my journal, thou wilt find 
further notice. For the present, farewell ; and lay down 
this sheet with the feeling that it has but one thing to say, 
but one thing which it would say and repeat forever ; yet 
will not say it, will not repeat it now, till I have once more 
the happiness of lying at thy feet, and weeping over thy 
hands for all that I renounce. 

Morning. 
My packing is done. The porter is girding the portman- 
teau on his dorsel. As yet, the sun is not up : vapors are 
streaming out of all the hollows, but the upper sky is clear. 
We step down into the gloomy deeps, which also will soon 
brighten over our heads. Let me send my last sigh home to 
thee ! Let my last look towards thee be yet *blinded with 
involuntary tears ! I am decided and determined. Thou 
shalt hear no more complaints from me : thou shalt hear 
only what happens to the wanderer. And yet now, when I 
am on the point of ending, a thousand thoughts, wishes, 
hopes, and purposes come crowding through my soul. Hap- 
pily the people force me away. The porter calls me ; and 
mine host has already in my presence begun sorting the 
apartment, as if I were gone : thus feelingless, imprudent 



108 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

heirs do not hide from the departing testator their prep- 
arations for assumiDg management. 



CHAPTER H. 

ST. JOSEPH THE SECOND. 



Already had the wanderer, following his porter on foot 
left the steep rocks behind and above him : already were 
they traversing a softer mid-range of hills, and hastening 
through many a well-pruned wood, over many a friendly 
meadow, forward and forward ; till at last they found them- 
selves on a declivity, and looked down into a beautifully 
cultivated valle}', begirt on all sides with hills. A large 
monastic edifice, half in ruins, half in repair, immediately 
attracted their attention. "This is St. Joseph," said the 
porter. i ' Pity for the fine church ! Do but look how fresh 
and firm it still holds up its pillars through bush and tree, 
though it has lain many hundred years in decay." 

" The cloister, on the contrary," said Wilhelm, "I ob- 
serve, is kept in good state." 

" Yes," said the other : " there is a Schaffner lives here ; 
he manages the husbandry, collects the dues and tithes, 
which the people far and wide have to pay him." 

So speaking, they had entered through the open gate into 
a spacious court, surrounded with earnest-looking, well-kept 
buildings, and announcing itself as the residence of some 
peaceful community. Among the children playing in the 
area, Wilhelm noticed Felix : the other two were the angels 
of last night. The friendly trefoil came running towards 
him with salutations, and assurances that papa would soon 
be back. He, in the mean while, they said, must go into the 
hall, and rest himself. 

How surprised was Wilhelm when the children led him 
into this apartment which they named the hall. Passing 
directly from the court, through a large door, our wanderer 
found himself in a very cleanly, undecayed chapel, which 
however, as he saw well enough, had been fitted up for the 
domestic uses of daily life. On the one side stood a table, 
a settle, some chairs and benches \ on the other side a neatlv 






MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 109 

carved dresser, with variegated pottery, jugs, and glasses. 
Some chests and trunks were standing in suitable niches : 
and, simple as the whole appeared, there was not wanting 
an air of comfort ; and daily household life looked forth 
from it with an aspect of invitation. The light fell in from 
high windows on the side. But what most roused the atten- 
tion of the wanderer was a series of colored figures painted 
on the wall, stretching under the windows, at a considerable 
height, round three quarters of the chapel, and hanging 
down to the wainscot, which covered the remainder of the 
wall to the ground. The pictures represented the history of 
St. Joseph. Here you might see him first employed with 
his carpentry work : here he meets Mary ; and a lily is 
sprouting from the ground between them, while angels hover 
round observing them. Here his betrothing takes place : 
next comes the salutation of the angel. Here he is sitting 
disconsolate among his neglected work : he has laid by the 
axe, and is thinking to put away his wife. But now appears 
the angel to him in a dream, and his situation changes. 
With reverence he looks on the new-born child in the stable 
at Bethlehem, and prays to it. Soon after this comes a won- 
derfully beautiful picture. You observe a quantity of tim- 
ber lying dressed : it is just to be put together, and by 
chance two of the pieces form a cross. The child has fallen 
asleep on the cross ; his mother sits by, and looks at him 
with heartfelt love ; and the foster-father pauses with his 
labor, that he may not awaken him. Next follows the flight 
into Egypt : it called forth a smile from the gazing traveller, 
for he saw here on the walls a repetition of the living figures 
he had met last night. 

He had not long pursued his contemplations, when the 
landlord entered, whom he directly recognized as the leader 
of the Holy Caravan. They saluted each other cordially : 
much conversation followed, yet Wilhelm's chief attention 
continued fixed on the pictures. The host observed the feel- 
ing of his guest, and began with a smile, " No doubt you 
are wondering at the strange accordance of this building 
with its inhabitants 1 , whom you last night got acquainted 
with. Yet it is, perhaps, still more singular than you sup- 
pose : the building has, in truth, formed the inhabitants. 
For, when the inanimate has life, it can also produce what 
has life." 

"Yes, indeed ! " answered Wilhelm : "I should be sur- 
prised if the spirit, which worked so powerfully in this 



110 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

mountain solitude long centuries ago, and drew round it 
such a mighty body of edifices, possessions, and rights, dif- 
fusing in return the blessings of manifold culture over the 
region, could not still, out of these ruins, manifest the force 
of its life on some living being. But let us not linger on 
general reflections : make me acquainted with your history ; 
let me know how it can possibly have happened, that, with- 
out affectation and presumption, the past again represents 
itself in you, and what was, again is." 

Just as Wilhelm was expecting responsive information 
from the lips of his host, a friendly voice in the court cried, 
" Joseph ! " The man obeyed it, and went out. 

" So he, too, is Joseph ! " said Wilhelm to himself. " This 
is strange enough, and yet not so strange as that in his life 
he should personate his saint. " At the same time, looking 
through the door, he saw the Virgin Mother of last night 
speaking with her husband. They parted at last : the wo- 
man walked towards the opposite building. " Mary," cried 
he after her, '* a word more." 

"So she, too, is Mary ! " said Wilhelm inwardly " Little 
would make me feel as if I were transported eighteen hun- 
dred years into the past ! ' ' He thought of the solemn and 
secluded valley in which he was, of the wrecks and silence 
all around ; and a strange, antiquarian mood came over him. 
It was time for the landlord and children to come in. The 
latter called for Wilhelm to go and walk, as the landlord had 
still some business to do. And now came in view the ruins 
of the church, with its many shafts and columns, with its 
high peaks and walls ; which looked as if gathering strength 
in the influence of wind and weather ; for strong trees from 
of old had taken root in the broad backs of the walls, and 
now, in company with grass, flowers, and moss in great quan- 
tities, exhibited bold hanging gardens vegetating in the air. 
Soft sward-paths led you up the banks of a lively brook ; and 
from a little elevation our wanderer could now overlook the 
edifice and its site with more interest, as its occupants had 
become still more singular in his eyes, and by their harmony 
with their abode had awakened his liveliest curiosity. 

The promenaders returned, and found in the religious hall 
a table standing covered. At the upper end was an arm- 
chair, in which the mistress of the house took her seat. Be- 
side her she had placed a high wicker- cradle, in which lay 
the little infant : the father sat next this on her left hand, 
Wilhelm on her right. The three children occupied the 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. Ill 

under space of the table. An old serving-maid brought in 
a well-?eadied meal. Eating and drinking implements alike 
pointed to the past. The children afforded matter for talk, 
while Wilhelm could not satisfy himself with looking at 
the form and the bearing of his saintly hostess. 

Their repast over, the company separated. The landlord 
took his guest to a shady spot in the ruin, where, from an 
elevated station, the pleasant prospect down the valley lay 
entire before them; and, farther off, the heights of the lower 
country, with their fruitful declivities and woody backs, were 
seen protruding one behind the other. "It is fair," said the 
landlord, "that I satisfy your curiosity; and the rather, as 
I feel that you can view the strange with seriousness when 
you find it resting on a serious ground. This religious foun- 
dation, the remains of which are lying round us, was dedi- 
cated to the Holy Family, and in old times noted as a place 
of pilgrimage for many wonders done in it. The church 
was consecrated to the Mother and the Son. It has lain 
for several centuries in ruins. The chapel, dedicated to the 
holy foster-father, still remains, as does likewise the service- 
able part of the cloister. The revenues have for many 
years belonged to a temporal prince, who keeps a steward 
or Schaffner here: this Schaffner am I, son of the last 
Schaffner, who also succeded his father in the office. 

"St. Joseph, though any regular worship of him has long 
ceased here, had been so helpful to our family, that it is not 
to be wondered at if they felt particularly well inclined 
towards him: hence came it that they had me baptized by 
the name of Joseph, and thereby, I may say, in some sense 
determined my whole future way of life. I grew up; and, 
if I used to help my father in managing the dues, I at- 
tached myself as gladly, nay, still more gladly, to my moth- 
er, who cherfully distributed her bounty according to her 
fortune, and for her kindness and good deeds was known 
and loved over all the mountains. Erelong she would send 
me out, now to fetch, now to carry, now direct. 

"In general, our mountain life has something more hu- 
mane in it than the life of Lowlanders. The inhabitants 
here are nearer, and, if you will, more remote also. Our 
wants are smaller, but more pressing. Each man is placed 
more on his own footing: he must learn to depend on his 
own hands, on his own limbs. The laborer, the post, the 



112 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

porter, all unite in one person : each of us is more connected 
with the other, meets him oftener, and lives with him in joint 
activity. 

" As I was still young, and my shoulders could not bear 
heavy burdens, I fell upon a thought of furnishing a little 
ass with panniers, which I might drive before me up and down 
the steep foot-paths. In the mountains the ass is no such 
despicable animal as in the plain country, where the laborer 
that ploughs with horses reckons himself better than he that 
turns his furrow with oxen. And I walked behind my beast 
with the less hesitation, as I had before observed in the 
chapel, that an animal of this same sort had been promoted 
to such honor as to carry God and his Mother. This chapel 
was not then, however, in the state you now see it in. It 
had been treated as a cart-house, nay, almost as a stable. 
Firewood, stakes, implements, barrels, and ladders, every 
thing that came to hand, lay huddled together in it. Lucky 
that the pictures were so high, and the wainscot could stand 
some hardships. But even in my childhood I used many a 
time to clamber over the wood, and delight myself with look- 
ing at the pictures, which no one could properly explain to 
me. However, I knew at least that the saint whose life 
stood depicted on these walls was my patron ; and I rejoiced 
in him as much as if he had been my uncle. I waxed in 
stature ; and it being an express condition, that whoever 
meant to aspire after this post of Schaffner must practise 
some handicraft, our family, desiring that I might inherit so 
good a benefice, determined on putting me to learn some 
trade, and such a one, at the same time, as might be useful 
here in our upland way of life. 

" My father was a cooper, and had been accustomed to sup- 
ply of himself whatever was required in that sort ; from which 
there arose no little profit, both to himself and the country. 
But I could not prevail on myself to follow him in this busi- 
ness. My inclination drew me irresistibly to the joiner 
trade, the tools and materials of which I had seen, from in- 
fancy upwards, so accurately and circumstantially painted 
beside my patron saint. I signified my wish : nothing could 
be objected to it, — the less, as in our frequent buildings the 
carpenter is often wanted here ; nay, if he have any sleight 
in his trade, and fondness for it, especially in forest districts, 
the arts of the cabinet-maker, and even of the carver, lie close 
beside his province. And what still further confirmed me in 
my higher purposes was a picture, which now, alas ! is almost 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 113 

effaced. If once you know what it is meant to represent, 
you may still be able to decipher the figures, when I take 
you to look at it. St. Joseph had got no lower a commission 
than to raake a throne for King Herod. The royal seat was 
to be erected between two given pillars. Joseph carefully 
measures the breadth and height, and fashions a costly 
throne. But how astonished is he, how alarmed, on carrying 
his finished work to the place : the throne is too high, and 
not broad enough. King Herod, as we know, was a man 
that did not understand jesting : the pious wright is in 
the greatest perplexity. The divine Child, accustomed to 
follow him everywhere, and in childlike, humble sport to 
carry his tools after him, observes his strait, and is immedi- 
ately at hand with advice and assistance. He requires of 
his foster-father to take hold of the throne by the one side, 
he himself grasps it by the other, and both begin to pull. 
Easily and pliantly, as if it had been made of leather, the 
carved throne extends in breadth, contracts proportionately 
in length, and fits itself to the place with the nicest accuracy, 
to the great comfort of the re-assured master, and the per- 
fect satisfaction of the king. 

4 'This throne was, in my youth, quite distinctly visible; 
and by the remains of the one side you will still be able to 
discern that there was no want of carving on it, — which, 
indeed, must have been easier for the painter than it would 
have been for the carpenter, had such a thing been required 
of him- 

" That circumstance, however, raised no scruples in me ; 
but I looked on the handicraft to which I had devoted myself 
in so honorable a light, that I was all impatience to be ap- 
prenticed to it, — a longing which was the easier to fulfil, as a 
master of the trade lived in our neighborhood, who worked 
for the whole district, and kept several apprentices and 
journeymen about him. Thus I continued in the neighbor- 
hood of my parents, and to a certain extent pursued my 
former way of life also ; seeing I employed my leisure hours 
and holidays in doing those charitable messages which my 
mother still intrusted to me." 



114 MEISTEK'S TKAVELS. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE VISIT. 

" So passed several years," continued the narrator. "I 
very soon comprehended the principles of my trade ; and my 
frame, expanded by labor, was equal to the undertaking of 
every thing connected with the business. At the same time I 
kept managing my ancient service, which my good mother, 
or rather the sick and destitute, required at my hands. I 
moved with my beast through the mountains, punctually dis- 
tributed my lading, and brought back from shopkeepers and 
merchants what we needed here at home. 

44 My master was contented with me, my parents also. 
Already I enjoyed the satisfaction, in my wanderings, of 
seeing many a house which I had helped to raise, or had 
myself decorated. For, in particular, that last notching of 
the beam-ends, that carving of certain simple forms, that 
branding in of pretty figures, that red painting of certain 
recesses, by which a wooden house in the mountains acquires 
so pleasant an aspect, — these arts were especially intrusted 
to me ; as I alwaj-s made the best hand of such tasks, having 
Herod's throne and its ornaments constantly in my head. 

" Among the help-needing persons whom my mother took 
peculiar charge of, were particularly young wives near the 
time of their confinement, as by degrees I could well enough 
remark ; though, in such cases, the commissions given me 
were veiled in a certain mystery. My messages, on these 
occasions, never reached directly to the party concerned ; 
but every thing passed through the hands of a good old 
woman, who lived down the dale, and was called Frau Eliza- 
beth. My mother, herself skilful in the art which saves life 
to so man}' at their very entrance into life, constantly main- 
tained a good understanding with Frau Elizabeth ; and I 
often heard, in all quarters, that many a one of our stout 
mountaineers stood indebted for his existence to these two 
women. The secrecy with which Elizabeth received me at 
all times, her pointed replies to my enigmatical questions, 
which I myself did not understand, awoke in me a singular 
reverence for her ; and her house, which was extremely clean, 
appeared to me to represent a sort of sanctuary. 

" Meanwhile, by my acquirements and adroitness in my 
craft, I had gained considerable influence in the family. As 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 115 

my father, in the character of cooper, had taken charge of 
the cellar and its contents, I now took charge of roof and 
room, and repaired many a damaged part in the old building. 
In particular, I contrived to make some fallen barns and out- 
houses once more serviceable for domestic use ; and scarcely 
was this done when I set about cleaning and clearing out my 
beloved chapel. In a few da}-s it was put in order, almost 
as you see it at present ; and such pieces of the wainscot as 
were damaged or altogether wanting, I had endeavored, as I 
went along, to restore in the same fashion as the rest. These 
door-leaves of the entrance, too, you might think, were old 
enough ; yet they are of my workmanship. I passed several 
years in carving them at leisure hours, having first mortised 
the body of them firmly together out of strong oaken planks. 
Whatever of the pictures had not been effaced or injured at 
that time, has since continued unimpaired ; and I assisted 
our glazier in a new house he was erecting, under the condi- 
tion of his putting in colored windows here. 

"If these figures and thoughts on the saint's life had 
hitherto occupied my imagination, the whole impressed itself 
on me with much more liveliness, now that I could again re- 
gard the place as a sanctuary, could linger in it, and muse 
at leisure on what I saw or conjectured. There lay in me 
an irresistible desire to follow in the footsteps of this saint : 
and, as a similar history was not to be looked for in these 
times, I determined on commencing my resemblance from 
the lowest point upwards ; as, indeed, by the use of my 
beast of burden, I had already commenced it long ago. The 
small creature which I had hitherto employed would no longer 
content me : I chose for myself a far more stately carrier, 
and got a large, stout saddle, which was equally adapted for 
riding and packing. A pair of new baskets were also procured ; 
and a net of many-colored knots, flakes, and tufts, intermixed 
with jingling tags of metal, decorated the neck of my long- 
eared beast, which might now show itself beside its model 
on the wall. No one thought of mocking me when I passed 
over the mountains in this equipment : people do not quarrel 
with Benevolence for putting on a strange outside. 

"Meanwhile, war, or rather its consequences, had ap- 
proached our district ; for dangerous bands of vagabond 
deserters had more than once collected, and here and there 
practised much violence and wanton mischief. By the good 
order of our provincial militia, by patrolling and prompt 
watchfulness, the evil was very soon remedied: but we too 



116 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

quickly relapsed into our former carelessness ; and, before 
we thought of it, new disorders broke forth. 

" For a long time all had been quiet in our neighborhood, 
and I had travelled peacefully with my ass along the accus- 
tomed paths ; till one day, passing over a newly sown glade 
if of the forest, I observed a female form sitting, or rather 
lying, at the edge of the fence-ditch. She seemed to be asleep 
or in a swoon. I endeavored to recall her ; and, as she opened 
her eyes and sat upright, she cried with eagerness, ' Where 
is he? Did you see him? ' I asked, ' Whom? ' She replied, 
' My husband.' Considering her extremely youthful appear- 
ance, I had not been expecting this reply ; yet I continued, so 
much the more kindly, to assist her, and assure her of my sym- 
pathy. I learned that the two travellers had left their carriage, 
the road being so heavy, and struck into a footpath to make 
a shorter cut. Hard by they had been overtaken by armed 
marauders ; her husband had gone off fighting with them ; 
she, not able to follow him far, had sunk on this spot, and 
lain there she knew not how long. She pressingly begged of 
me to leave her, and hasten after her husband. She rose to 
her feet ; and the fairest, loveliest form stood before me : 
yet I could easily observe that she was in a situation in which 
she might soon require the help of my mother and Frau Eliza- 
beth. We disputed a while : for I wished, before all, to bring 
her to some place of safety ; she wished, in the first place, to 
have tidings of her husband. She would not leave the trace 
of him ; and all my arguments would perhaps have been 
unavailing, had not a party of our militia, which the tidings 
of fresh misdeeds had again called out into service, chanced 
to pass that way through the forest. These I informed of 
the matter : with them the necessary arrangements were 
made, the place of meeting appointed, and so the business 
settled for the time. With great expedition I hid my pan- 
niers in a neighboring cave, which had often served me 
before as a repository : I adjusted my saddle for easy rid- 
ing, and, not without a strange emotion, lifted the fair bur- 
den on my willing beast, which, knowing of itself what path 
to choose, left me at liberty to walk by her side. 

" You can figure to yourself, without my describing it at 
large, in what a strange mood I was. What I had long been 
seeking I had now found. I felt as if I were dreaming, and 
then again as if I were awakening from a dream. That 
heavenly form which I saw, as it were, hovering in the air, 
and bending aside from the green branches, now seemed to 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 117 

me like a dream which had risen in my soul through those 
figures in the chapel. Soon those figures themselves seemed 
to me to have been only dreams, which were here issuing in 
a fair reality. I asked her many things : she answered me 
softly and kindly, as beseemed a dignified distress. She 
often desired me, when we reached any open height, to stop, 
to look round, to listen. She desired me with such grace, 
with such a deep, wistful look from under her long black eye- 
lashes, that I could not but do whatever lay in my power ; 
nay, at last I climbed to the top of a high, solitary, branch- 
less pine. Never had this feat of my handicraft been more 
welcome to me : never had I, with greater joy, brought down 
ribbons and silks from such elevations at festivals and fairs. 
But for this time, alas ! I came back without booty : above, 
as below, I could hear or see nothing. In the end, she her- 
self called me down, and beckoned to me earnestly with her 
hand : nay, at last, as in gliding down I quitted my hold a 
considerable way up, and dropped on the ground, she gave 
a scream ; and a sweet kindliness spread over her face as she 
saw me before her unhurt. 

' ' Why should I tell you in detail of the hundred attentions 
with which I strove the whole way to be pleasing, to divert 
her thoughts from her grief? Indeed, how could I? For it 
is the very quality of true attention, that, at the moment, 
it makes a nothing all. To my feeling, the flowers which 
I broke for her, the distant scenes which I showed her, 
the hills, the woods, which I named to her, were ' so many 
precious treasures which I was giving her to obtain for 
myself a place among her interests, as one tries to do by 
presents. 

" Already she had gained me for my whole life, when we 
reached our destination, at that good old woman's door ; and 
I saw a painful separation close at hand. Once more I ran 
over all her form ; and, as my eyes came on her feet, I stooped 
as if to adjust something in my girdle, and kissed the dain- 
tiest shoe that I had ever seen, yet without her noticing me. 
I helped her down, sprang up the steps, and called in at the 
door, 4 Frau Elizabeth, here is a visitor ! ' The good old 
woman came down : and I looked over her shoulders towards 
the house, as the fair being mounted the steps with graceful 
sorrow, and inward, painful self-consciousness ; till she 
gratefully embraced my worthy old woman, and accompanied 
her into the better chamber. They shut the door ; and I 
was left standing outside by my ass, like a man that has 



118 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

delivered a loading of precious wares, and is again as poor 
a carrier as before." 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE LILY-STALK. 

" I was still lingering in my departure, for I knew not 
what to do if I were gone, when Frau Elizabeth came to the 
door, and desired me to send my mother down to her, and 
then to go about, and, if possible, get tidings of the husband. 
'Mary begs you very much to do this,' said she. ' Can I 
not speak with her again myself ? ' replied I. ' That will not 
do,' said Elizabeth ; and we parted. In a short time I 
reached our dwelling : my mother was ready that same night 
to go over, and be helpful to the young stranger. I hastened 
down the country, thinking I should get the surest intel- 
ligence at the Amtmann's. But the Amtmann himself was 
still in uncertainty ; and, as I was known to him, he invited 
me to pass the night there. It seemed interminably long ; 
and still I had the fair form before my eyes, as she sat gently 
swaying in the saddle, and looking down to me so sorrowful 
and friendly. Every moment I hoped for news. To the 
worthy husband I honestly wished life and safety, and yet 
I liked so well to fancy her a widow ! The ranging troops by 
little and little collected ; and, after many variable rumors, 
the certainty at last came to light, that the carriage was 
saved, but the hapless traveller dead of his wounds in a 
neighboring village. I learned also, that, according to our 
first arrangement, some of the party had gone to communicate 
the melancholy tidings to Frau Elizabeth : consequently I had 
nothing more to do there. Yet a boundless impatience, an 
immeasurable longing, drove me over wood and mountain 
once more to her threshold. It was dark ; the door was 
shut ; I saw light in the room, I saw shadows moving on the 
curtains ; and thus I sat watching on a bench opposite the 
house ; still on the point of knocking, and still withheld by 
many considerations. 

11 But why should I go on describing to you what is in 
itself of no interest? In short, next morning, too, the 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 119 

house was shut against me. They knew the heavy tidings, 
they needed me no further ; they sent me to my father, to 
my work ; they would not answer my inquiries ; they wanted 
to be rid of me. 

" For eight days this sort of treatment had continued, 
when at last Fran Elizabeth called me in. ' Step softly, my 
friend,' said she, ' but enter without scruple.' She led me 
into a trim apartment, where, in the corner, through the 
half -opened curtains, I saw my fair one dressed, and sitting 
upright in the bed. Frau Elizabeth went towards her as if 
to announce me, lifted something from the bed, and brought 
it me, — wrapped in the whitest swathings, the prettiest boy ! 
Frau Elizabeth held it straight betwixt the mother and me ; 
and just then the lily-stalk occurred to me, which, in the 
picture, springs from the ground between Joseph and Mary, 
as witness of the purity of their affection. From that 
moment I was certain of my cause, certain of my happiness. 
I could approach her with freedom, speak with her, bear her 
heavenly eye, take the boy on my arm, and imprint a warm 
kiss on his brow. 

" c How I thank you for the love you bear to that orphan 
child ! ' said the mother. Unthinkingly and briskly I cried, 
k It is no orphan any longer, if you like ! ' 

" Frau Elizabeth, more prudent than I, took the child from 
my hands, and got me put away. 

" To this hour, when I chance to be wandering over our 
mountains and forests, the remembrance of that time forms 
my happiest entertainment. I can still recall the slightest 
particulars ; which, however, as is fit, I spare you at present. 
Weeks passed on : Mary was recovered ; I could see her 
ot'tener ; my intercourse with her was a train of services and 
attentions. Her family circumstances allowed her to choose 
a residence according to her pleasure. She first staid with 
Frau Elizabeth : then she paid us a visit, to thank my mother 
and me for so many and such friendly helps. She liked to 
live with us, and I flattered nryself that it was partly on 
my account. What I wished to tell her, however, and durst 
not utter, came to words in a singular and pretty wise, when 
I took her into the chapel, which I had then fitted up as a 
habitual apartment. I showed her the pictures, and ex- 
plained them to her one after the other, and, so doing, un- 
folded the duties of a foster-father in so vivid and cordial a 
manner that the tears came into her eyes, and I could not 
get to the end of my picture exhibition. I thought myself 



120 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

certain of her affection, though I was not proud enough to 
wish so soon to efface the memory of her husband. The 
law imposes on widows a year of mourning ; and, in truth, 
such an epoch, which includes in it the change of all earthly 
things, is necessary for a feeling heart, to alleviate the 
painful impressions of a great loss. We see the flowers 
fade and the leaves fall ; but we likewise see fruits ripen, and 
new buds shoot forth. Life belongs to the living, and he 
who lives must be prepared for vicissitudes. 

" I now spoke with my mother on the concern which lay 
so near my heart. She thereupon disclosed to me how 
grievous to Mary the death of her husband had been, and 
how she had borne up and gathered courage again, solely 
from the thought that she must live for her child. My in- 
clination was not unknown to the women, and already Mary 
had accustomed herself to the idea of living with us. She 
staid a while longer in the neighborhood : then she came up 
to us, and we lived for a time in the gentlest and happiest 
state of betrothment. At last we wedded. That feeling 
which had first drawn us together did not fade away. The 
duties and joys of the father and the foster-father were 
united : and so our little family, as it increased, did certainly 
surpass its prototype in number of persons ; but the virtues 
of that pattern, in respect to faithfulness, and purity of sen- 
timents, were sacredly maintained and practised by us. And 
so also in friendly habitude we keep up the external appear- 
ance which we, by accident, arrived at, and which fits our 
internal state so well ; for though all of us are good walkers, 
and stout bearers of weight, the beast of burden still remains 
in our company, when any business or visit takes us through 
these mountains and valleys. As you met us last night, so 
does the whole country know us ; and we feel proud that our 
walk and conversation are of such a sort as not to throw 
disgrace on the saintly name and figure whose imitators we 
profess to be." 

Wilhelm to Natalia, 

I now conclude a pleasant, half-marvellous history, which 
I have just written down for thee, from the mouth of a very 
worthy man. If I have not always given his very words ; 
if here and there, in describing his sentiments, I have ex- 
pressed my own, — this, considering the relationship of mind 
I feel with him, was natural enough. His reverence for his 
wife, does it not resemble that which I entertain for thee? 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 121 

And is there not, even in the first meeting of these lovers, 
something similar to ours? But that he is fortunate enough 
to walk beside his animal, as it bears the doubly beautiful 
burden ; that he can enter at evenings, with his family pos- 
session, through the old cloister-gate ; that he is inseparable 
from his own loved ones, — in all this, I may well secretly 
envy him. Yet I must not complain of my destiny ; seeing 
I have promised thee that I will suffer and be silent, as thou 
also hast undertaken. 

Many a fair feature in the domestic union of these devout 
and cheerful persons I have been obliged to omit, for how 
could it be depicted in writing ? Two days have passed over 
me agreeably, but the third warns me to be mindful of my 
farther wayfaring. 

With Felix I had a little quarrel to-day. He was almost 
for compelling me to break through one wholesome regula- 
tion, for which I stand engaged to thee. It has been an 
error, a misfortune, in short, an arrangement of Fate with 
me hitherto, that, before I am aware, my company increases ; 
that I take a new burden on my shoulders, which thence- 
forth I have to bear, and drag along with me. So, m my 
present wanderings, no third party is to become a permanent 
associate with us. We are, we will and must continue, Two ; 
and just now a new, and not very pleasing, connection, 
seemed about to be established. 

To the children of the house, with whom Felix has gayly 
passed these days in sporting, there had joined himself a 
little merry beggar-boy, who, submitting to be used or mis- 
used as the play required, had very soon got into favor 
with Felix. By various hints and expressions, I now gath- 
ered that the latter had found himself a playmate for the 
next stage of our journey. The boy is known in this quar- 
ter, and everywhere tolerated for his lively humor, and now 
and then obtains an alms. Me, however, he did not please ; 
and I desired our host to get him sent away. This likewise 
took place ; but Felix was angry at it, and we had a little 
flaw of discord. 

In the course of this affair, I discovered something which 
was pleasant to me. In the corner of the chapel, or hall, 
stood a box of stones, which Felix, who, since our wander- 
ings through the mountains, has acquired an excessive fond- 
ness for minerals, eagerly drew forth and examined. Many 
pretty eye-catching things were among them. Our landlord 
said the child might choose out what he liked : these were the 



122 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

remains of a large collection which a friend had despatched 
thence a short while ago. He called this person Montan ; 
and thou wilt easily suppose how glad I was to hear this 
name, under which one of our best friends is travelling, one 
to whom we owe so much. Having inquired into date and 
circumstances, I can now hope to meet him erelong on my 
pilgrimage. 



CHAPTER V. 

The news that Montan was in the neighborhood had made 
Wilhelm reflect. He considered that it ought not to be left 
to chance alone whether he should meet with so estimable a 
friend, therefore he inquired of his landlord if they did not 
know towards what quarter this traveller had turned his 
course. No one had any information on this point ; and 
Wilhelm had determined to pursue his pilgrimage on the for- 
mer plan, when Felix cried, " If father were not so strange, 
we might soon find Montan." 

" What way?" said Wilhelm. 

Felix answered, "Little Fitz told us last night that he 
could trace out the stranger gentleman, who had many fine 
stones with him, and understood them well." 

After ^ome talking, Wilhelm at last resolved on making 
the experiment ; purposing, in the course of it, to keep so 
much the sharper watch on the suspicious boy. Fitz was 
soon found ; and, hearing what was to be done, he soon 
produced mallet and chisel, and a stout hammer, with a little 
bag, and set forth, running merrily before the party, in his 
mining accoutrements. 

The way went to a side, and up the mountains. The 
children skipped on together, from crag to crag, over stock 
and stone, over brook and bourn ; and, without having any 
path before him, Fitz pressed rapidly upwards, now looking 
to the right hand, now to the left. As Wilhelm, and es- 
pecially the laden porter, could not follow so fast, the boys 
often ran back and forward, singing and whistling. The 
aspect of some new trees arrested the attention of Felix, 
who now, for the first time, formed acquaintance with larches 
and fir-cones, and curiously surveyed the strange gentian 
shrubs. And thus, in their toilsome wandering, there lacked 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 123 

not from time to time a little entertainment. But all at once 
they were fronted by a barricado of trees, which a storm had 
hurled together iu a confused mass. "This was not in my 
reckoning," said Fitz. "Wait here till I find my way 
again, only have a care of the cave up there : no one goes 
into it or near it, without getting harm, or having tricks 
played on him." 

The boy went off in an ascending direction : the porter, 
on the other hand, grumbling at the excessive difficulty of 
the way, set down his luggage, and searched sidewards and 
downwards for some beaten path. 

No sooner did Felix see himself alone with his father, 
than his curiosity awoke, and he glided softly toward the 
cave. Wilhelm, who gave him leave, observed after some 
time that the child was no longer in sight. He himself 
mounted to the cave, at the mouth of which he had last 
seen the boy ; and, on entering, he found the place empty. 
It was spacious, but could be taken in at a glance. He 
searched for some other outlet, and found none. The matter 
began to be serious. He took the whistle which he wore at 
his button-hole : an answer to his call came sounding out of 
the depth, so that he was uncertain whether he should take 
it for an echo, when, shortly afterwards, Felix peeped out 
of the ground ; for the chink through which he looked was 
scarcely wide enough to let through his head. 

" What art thou about there? " cried his father. 

"Hush ! " said Felix : "art thou alone? " 

" Quite alone," answered Wilhelm. 

" Then, go quick," cried the boy, " and fetch me a couple 
of strong clubs." 

Wilhelm went to the fallen timber, and, with his hanger, 
cut off a pair of thick staves : Felix took them, and vanished, 
having first called to his father, " Let no one into the cave ! " 

After some time Felix cried, "Another pair of staves, 
and larger ones ! ' ' With these also his father provided 
him, and waited anxiously for the solution of his riddle. 
At length the boy issued rapidly from the cleft, and brought 
a little box with him, not larger than an octavo volume, of 
rich, antique appearance : it seemed to be of gold, decorated 
with enamel. "Put it up, father," said the boy, " and let 
none see it." Wilhelm had not time to ask many questions, 
for they already heard the call of the returning porter ; and 
scarcely had they joined him, when the little squire also 
began to shout and wave from above. 



124 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

On their approach he cried out, " Montan is not far off: 
I bet we shall soon meet him." 

" How canst thou know this," said Wilhelm, " in so wild 
a forest, where no human being leaves any trace behind 
him?" 

" That is my knack," said Fitz ; and, like a Will-o'-wisp, 
he hopped off hither and thither, in a side direction, to lead 
his masters the strangest road. 

Felix, in the mean while, highly satisfied in the treasure he 
had found, highly delighted at possessing a secret, kept close 
by his father, without, as formerly, skipping up and down 
beside his comrade. He nodded to Wilhelm with sparkling 
eyes ; glancing towards his companion, and making signifi- 
cant faces, to indicate how much he was above Fitz now, in 
possessing a secret entirely wanting to the other. He car- 
ried it so far at length, that Fitz, who often stopped and 
looked about, must very soon have noticed it. Wilhelm 
therefore said to Felix, "My son, whoever wishes to keep 
a secret must hide from us that he possesses one. Self- 
complaisance over the concealed destroys its concealment." 
Felix restrained himself ; but his former gay, free manner to 
his comrade he could not now attain. 

All at once little Fitz stood still. He beckoned the rest to 
him. " Do you hear a beating?" said he. "It is the 
sound of a hammer striking on the rock." 

" We hear it," answered they. 

" That is Montan," said he, " or some one who will tell 
us of him." 

Following the sound, which was repeated from time to 
time, they reached an opening in the wood, and perceived a 
steep, high, naked rock, towering over all the rest, leaving 
even the lofty forest deep beneath it. On the top of it they 
descried a man : he was too far off to be recognized. Imme- 
diately the boys set about ascending the precipitous path. 
Wilhelm followed with some difficulty, nay, danger : for the 
person that climbs a rock foremost always proceeds with 
more safety, because he can look out for his conveniences ; 
he who comes after sees only whither the other has arrived, 
but not how. The boys soon reached the top, and Wilhelm 
heard a shout of joy. "It is Jarno," cried Felix to his 
father ; and Jarno immediately came forward to a rugged 
spot, stretched out his hand to his friend, and drew him up. 
They embraced, and welcomed each other into the free, skyey 
air, with the rapture of old friends. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 125 

But scarcely had they stepped asunder, when a giddiness 
came over Wilhelm, not so much on his own account, as at 
seeing the boys hanging over the frightful abyss. Jarno ob- 
served it, and immediately bade all sit down. " Nothing is 
more natural," said he, " than that we should grow giddy 
at a great sight, which comes unexpectedly before us, to 
make us feel at once our littleness and our greatness. But 
there is not in the world any truer enjoyment than at the 
moment when we are so made giddy for the first time." 

"Are these, then, down there, the great mountains we 
climbed over?" inquired Felix. " How little they look! 
And here," continued he, loosening a crumb of stone from 
the rock, " is the old cat-gold again: this is found every- 
where, I suppose?" 

"It is found far and wide," answered Jarno; "and, as 
thou art asking after such things, I may bid thee notice that 
thou art now sitting on the oldest mountain, on the earliest 
rock, of this world." 

" Was the world not made at once, then? " said Felix. 

" Hardly," answered Jarno : " good bread needs baking." 

" Down there," said Felix, " is another sort of rock ; and 
there again another, and still again another," cried he, point- 
ing from the nearest mountains to the more remote, and so 
downward to the plain. 

It was a beautiful day, and Jarno let them survey the 
lordly prospect in detail. Here and there stood several other 
peaks, similar to the one our travellers were on. A sec- 
ondary moderate range of mountains seemed as if struggling 
up, but did not by far attain that height. Farther off, the 
surface flattened still more ; yet again some strangely pro- 
truding forms rose to view. At last, in the remote distance, 
lakes were visible, and rivers ; and a fruitful country spread 
itself out like a sea. And, when the eye came back, it 
pierced into frightful depths, sounding with cataracts, and 
connected with each other in labyrinthic combination. 

Felix could not satisfy himself with questions, and Jarno 
was kind enough to answer all of them ; in which, however, 
Wilhelm thought he noticed that the teacher did not always 
speak quite truly and sincerely. So, after the unstaid boys 
had again clambered off, Wilhelm said to his friend, "Thou 
hast not spoken with the child about these matters as thou 
speakest to thyself." 

"That, indeed, were a heavy requisition," answered Jarno. 
kw We do not always speak, even to ourselves, as we think; 



126 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

and it is not fit to tell others any thing but what they can 
take up. A man understands nothing but what is commen- 
surate with him. To fix a child's attention on what is pres- 
ent ; to give him a description, a name, — is the best thing we 
can do for him. He will soon enough begin to inquire after 
causes." 

" One cannot blame this latter tendency," observed Wil- 
helm. " The multiplicity of objects perplexes every one; 
and it, is easier, instead of investigating them, to ask di- 
rectly.) whence and whither?" 

'" Atid yet," said Jarno, " as children look at what is pres- 
ent o jly superficially, we cannot speak with them of origin 
and Jbbject otherwise than superficially also." 

■ Most men," answered Wilhelm, " continue all their days 
in this predicament, and never reach that glorious epoch 
in which the comprehensible appears to us common and in- 
nipid." 

" It may well be called glorious," answered Jarno ; " for 
it is a middle stage between despair and deification." 

"Let us abide by the boy," said Wilhelm, "who is, at 
present, my first care. He has, somehow, got a fondness 
lor minerals since we began this journey. Canst thou not 
impart so much to me as would put it in my power to satisfy 
him, at least for a time? " 

" That will not do," said Jarno. " In every new depart- 
ment one must, in the first place, begin again as a child ; 
throw a passionate interest over the subject ; take pleasure 
in the shell till one has the happiness to arrive at the 
kernel." 

" Tell me, then," said Wilhelm, " how hast thou attained 
this knowledge? For it is not so very long, after all, since 
we parted." 

"My friend," said Jarno, "we were forced to resign 
ourselves, if not forever, at least for a long season. The 
first thing that occurs to a stout-hearted man, under such 
circumstances, is to begin a new life. New objects will not 
suffice him ; these serve only for diversion of thought : he 
requires a new whole, and plants himself in the middle of 
it." 

" But why, then," interrupted Wilhelm, " choose this 
strangest and loneliest of all pursuits?" 

"Even because of its loneliness," cried Jarno. "Men 
I wished to avoid. To them we can give no help, and they 
hinder us from helping ourselves. Are they happy, we must 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 127 

let them persevere in their stolidities ; are they unhappy, we 
must save them without disturbing these stolidities ; and no 
one ever asks whether Thou art happy or unhappy." 

" It is not quite so bad with them, surely," answered 
Wilhelm, smiling. 

" 1 will not talk thee out of thy happiness," said Jarno. 
"Go on thy way, thou second Diogenes! Let not thy 
lamp in daylight go out ! Down on that side lies a new 
world before thee ; but, I dare wager, things stand there as 
in the old one. If thou canst not pimp, and pay debts, thou 
availest nothing." 

"Yet they seem to me more entertaining than thy dead 
rocks," said Wilhelm. 

"Not they!" answered Jarno, "for my rocks are at 
least incomprehensible . ' ' 



CHAPTER VI. 

The two friends had descended, not without care and 
labor, to reach the children, who were now lying in a shady 
spot down below. With almost greater eagerness than their 
picnic repast, the collected rock specimens were unpacked by 
Montan and Felix. The latter had much to ask, the former 
much to nominate. Felix was delighted that his new teacher 
could give him names for all, and he speedily committed 
them to memory. At length he produced another specimen, 
and asked, " What do you call this, then? " 

Montan viewed it with surprise, and said, "Where did 
you get it? " 

Fitz answered promptly, " I found it myself : it is of this 
country." 

" Not of this quarter," said Montan. Felix rejoiced to 
see his master somewhat puzzled. "Thou shalt have a 
ducat," said Montan, "if thou bring me to the spot where 
it lies." 

"That is easy to earn," answered Fitz, " but not imme- 
diately." 

"Then, describe the place to me accurately, that I may 
not fail to find it : but the thing is impossible ; for this is a 
cross-stone, which comes from Santiago in Compostella, and 



128 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

which some stranger has lost, — if, indeed, thou hast not 
stolen it from him, for its curious look." 

" Give your ducat into my master's hands," said Fitz, 
" and I will honestly confess where I got the stone. In the 
ruined church at St. Joseph there is likewise a ruined altar. 
Under the top-stones, which are all broken and heaped to- 
gether, I discovered a layer of this rock, which has been the 
foundation of the other, and broke off from it as much as I 
could come at. If the upper stones were cleared away, one 
might find much more of it there." 

''Take thy ducat," said Montan : " thou deservest it for 
this discovery. It is pretty enough. Men naturally rejoice 
when inanimate nature produces any likeness of what they 
love and reverence. Nature then appears to us in the form 
of a sibyl, who has beforehand laid down a testimony of what 
had been determined from eternity, and was not to be realized 
till late in time. On this rock, as on a sacred, mysterious, 
primeval basis, the priests had built their altar." 

Wilhelm, who had listened for a while, and observed that 
many names, many designations, were repeatedly mentioned, 
again signified his former wish, that Montan would impart 
to him so much as was required for the primary instruction 
of the boy. " Give that up," replied Montan. " There is 
nothing more frightful than a teacher who knows only what 
his scholars are intended to know. He who means to teach 
others may, indeed, often suppress the best of what he 
knows ; but he must not be half instructed." 

14 But where are such perfect teachers to be had? " 

" These thou wilt find very easily," replied Montan. 

" Where, then? " said Wilhelm, with some unbelief. 

"Where the thing thou art wishing to learn is in prac- 
tice," said Montan. " Our best instruction we obtain from 
complete conversance. Dost thou not learn foreign lan- 
guages best in the countries where they are at home? — 
where only these and no other strike thy ear?" 

" And so it was among the mountains," inquired Wilhelm, 
" that thy knowledge of mountains was acquired? " 

" Of course." 

" Without help from men? " 

11 At least only from men who were miners. There, where 
the pygmies, allured by the metallic veins, bore through the 
rock, making the interior of the earth accessible, and in a 
thousand ways endeavoring to solve the hardest problems, — 
there is the place where an inquiring thinker ought to take 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 129 

his stand. He looks on action and effort, watches the prog- 
ress of enterprises, and rejoices in the successful and the 
unsuccessful. What is useful forms but a part of the im- 
portant. Fully to possess, to command, and rule an object, 
we must first study it for its own sake." 

" Is there such a place in the neighborhood? " said Wil- 
helm. " I should like to take Felix thither." 

" The question I can answer in the affirmative," replied 
Montan, " the project not exactly assent to. At least, I 
must first tell thee, that thou hast the power of choosing 
among many other branches of activity, of knowledge, of 
art, for thy Felix, some of which might, perhaps, suit him 
better than this sudden fancy which he has taken up at the 
moment, most probably from mere imitation." 

" Explain thyself more clearly," interrupted Wilhelm. 

"Thou must know, then," said Montan, "that we are 
here on the borders of a province, which I might justly call 
a Pedagogic Utopia. In the conviction that only one thing 
can be carried on, taught, and communicated with full ad- 
vantages, several such points of active instruction have been, 
as it were, sown over a large tract of country. At each of 
these places thou wilt find a little world, but so complete 
within its limitation, that it may represent and model any 
other of these worlds, nay, the great busy world itself." 

" I do not altogether comprehend what thou canst mean 
by this," interrupted Wilhelm. 

"Thou shalt soon comprehend it," said the other. "As 
down, not far from this, among the mountains, thou wilt, in 
the first place, find collected round a mass of metalliferous 
rocks, whatever is of use for enabling man to appropriate 
these treasures of Nature, and, at the same time, to acquire 
general conceptions of moulding the ruggedness of inani- 
mate things more dexterously to his own purposes ; so down 
in the lowest level, far out on the plain, where the soil 
spreads into large meadows and pastures, thou wilt find 
establishments for managing another important treasure 
which Nature has given to men." 

" And this? " inquired Wilhelm. 

" Is the horse," replied the other. " In that last quarter 
thou art in the midst of every thing which can instruct one 
on the training, diet, growth, and likewise employment, of 
this noble animal. As in these hills all are busy digging, 
boring, climbing ; so there nothing is more anxiously at- 
tended to than the young brood, springing, as it were, out of 

5— Goethe Vol 8 



130 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

the ground : and every one is occupied foddering, grazing, 
driving, leading, curbing them, mounting their backs, and 
in all sorts of movements, natural and artificial, coursing 
with them over the plain." 

Felix, who had approached in the deepest attention, ex- 
claimed, interrupting him, " Oh, thither will we ! That is the 
prettiest, the best, of all." 

" It is far thither," answered Jarno ; " and thou wilt find 
something more agreeable and suitable, perhaps, by the way. 
Any species of activity," continued he, " attracts the fond- 
ness of a child ; for every thing looks easy that is practised 
to perfection. All beginnings are hard, says the proverb. 
This, in a certain sense, may be true : but we might say, 
with a more universal application, All beginnings are easy ; 
and it is the last steps that are climbed most rarely and 
with greatest difficulty." 

Wilhelm, who had been reflecting in the mean while, now 
said to Montan, " Is it actually so, as thou sayest, that these 
people have separated the various sorts of activity, both in 
the practice and teaching of them ? ' ' 

"They have done it," said Montan, "and with reason. 
Whatever any man has to effect, must emanate from him 
like a second self ; and how could this be possible, were not 
his first self entirely pervaded by it ? " 

" Yet has not a general culture been reckoned very advan- 
tageous? " 

" It may really be so," replied the other : " every thing in 
its time. Now is the time of specialties. Happy he who 
understands this, and works for himself and others in that 
spirit." 

" In my spirit it cannot be," replied Wilhelm ; u but tell 
me, if I thought of sending Felix, for a while, into one of 
these circles, which wouldst thou recommend to me? " 

"It is all one," said Jarno. " You cannot readily tell 
which way a child's capacity particularly points. For me, 
I should still advise the merriest trade. Take him to those 
horse-subduers. Beginning as a groom is, in truth, little 
easier than beginning as an ore-beater : but the prospect is 
always gayer ; you can hope at least to get through the world 
riding." 

It is easy to conceive that Wilhelm had many other doubts 
to state, and many further explanations to require : these 
Jarno settled in his usual laconic way, but at last he broke out 
as follows ; " In all things, to serve from the lowest station 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 131 

upwards is necessary. To restrict yourself to a trade is 
best. For the narrow mind, whatever he attempts is still a 
trade ; for the higher, an art ; and the highest, in doing one 
thing, does all ; or, to speak less paradoxically, in the one 
thing which he does rightly, he sees the likeness of all that 
is done rightly. Take thy Felix," continued he, "through 
the province : let the directors see him ; they will soon judge 
him, and dispose of him to the best advantage. The boy 
should be placed among his equals, otherwise he seeks them 
for himself, and then, in his associates, finds only flatterers or 
tyrants." 



CHAPTER VII. 

The third day being over, the friends, in conformity to 
the engagement of our renunciants, had to part ; and Jarno 
declared he would now fly so far into the waste mountains, 
that no one should be able to discover him. " There is noth- 
ing more frightful," said he, "in a state like ours, than to 
meet an old, true friend, to whom we can communicate our 
thoughts without reserve. So long as one is by himself, 
one fancies there is no end to the novelties and wonders he 
is studying : but let the two talk a while together, right from 
the heart ; one sees how soon all this is exhausted. Nothing 
is endless but inanity. Clever people soon explain them- 
selves to one another, and then they have done. But now 
I will dive into the chasms of the rocks, and with them be- 
gin a mute, unfathomable conversation." 

"Have a care," said Wilhelm, smiling, "lest Fitz come 
upon thy track. This time, at least, he succeeded in finding 
thee." 

" How didst thou manage that?" said Montan. "After 
all, it was only chance." 

" Not in the least," answered Fitz : " I will tell you my 
secret for a fair consideration. You mineralogists, wherever 
you go, keep striking to the right and left ; from every stone, 
from every rock, breaking off a piece, as if gold and silver 
were hid in them. One has but to follow this trace ; and, 
where any corner shows a fresh breakage, there some of you 
have been. One notes and notes, forward and forward, and 
at last comes upon the man." 



132 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

Fitz was praised and rewarded. The friends parted, — 
Montan alone, the little caravan in company. Wilhelm had 
settled the place they should make for. The porter proposed 
a road to it ; but the children had taken a fancy for looking, 
by the way, at the Giant's Castle, of which Fitz had talked 
so much. Felix was curious about the large, black pillars, 
the great door, the cellar, the caves, and vaults, and hoped 
he might perhaps find something there, — something of even 
greater value than the box. 

How he came by this he had, in the interim, informed his 
father. Creeping through the cleft, it appeared he had got 
down into an open space pretty well lighted, and noticed in 
the corner of it a large iron chest, the lid of which, though it 
was not locked, he could not lift, but only raise a very little. 
To get into this, he had called to his father for the staves, 
which he had employed partly as props under the lid, partly as 
levers to heave it up, and so at length forcing his way into the 
chest, had found it wholly empty, except for the little box 
which was lying in one of the nooks. This toy they had 
shown Montan, who agreed with them in opinion, that it 
should be kept unopened, and no violence done to it ; for it 
could not be unlocked except by a very complicated key. 

The porter declined going with the rest to the Giant's 
Castle, and proceeded down the smooth footpath b} r himself. 
The others toiled after Fitz through moss and tangle, and 
at length reached the natural colonnade, which, towering 
over a huge mass of fragments, rose black and wondrous 
into the air. Yet, without much regarding what he saw 
before his eyes, Felix instantly began inquiring for the other 
promised marvels ; and, as none of them was to be seen, Fitz 
could excuse himself no otherwise than 03^ declaring that 
these things were never visible except on Sundays and 
particular festivals, and then only for a few hours. The 
boys remained convinced that the pillared palace was a work 
of men's hands : Wilhelm saw well that it was a work of 
Nature, but he could have wished for Montan to speak with 
on the subject. 

They now proceeded rapidly down hill, through a wood of 
high, taper larches, which, becoming more and more trans- 
parent, erelong exposed to view the fairest spot you can 
imagine, lying in the clearest sunshine. 

A large garden, seemingly appropriated to use, not orna- 
ment, lay richly furnished with fruit-trees, yet open before 
their eyes ; for the ground, sloping, on the whole, had been 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 133 

regularly cut iuto a number of divisions, now raised, now 
hollowed in manifold variety, and thus exhibited a complex 
waving surface. Several dwelling-houses stood scattered up 
and down, so that it seemed as if the space belonged to 
several proprietors ; yet Fitz assured them that one individ- 
ual owned and directed the whole. Beyond the garden 
stretched a boundless landscape, beautifully cultivated and 
planted, in which lakes and rivers might be distinguished in 
the distance. 

Still descending, they had approached nearer and nearer, 
and were now expecting in a few moments to be in the 
garden, when Wilhelm all at once stopped short, and Fitz 
could not hide his roguish satisfaction ; for a yawning chasm 
at the foot of the mountain opened before them, and showed 
on the other, side a wall which had hitherto been concealed, 
steep enough without, though within it was quite filled up 
with soil. A deep trench, therefore, separated them from 
the garden, into which they were directly looking. "We 
have still a good circuit to make," said Fitz, "before we 
get the road that leads in. However, I know an entrance on 
this side, which is much shorter. The vaults where the hill- 
water in time of rain is let through, in regular quantities, 
into the garden, open here : they are high, and broad enough 
for one to walk along without difficulty.' ' The instant Felix 
heard of vaults, he insisted on taking this passage and no 
other. Wilhelm followed the children ; and the party de- 
scended the large steps of this covered aqueduct, which was 
now lying quite dr}'. Down below they found themselves 
sometimes in light, sometimes in darkness, according as the 
side-openings admitted day, or the walls and pillars excluded 
it. At last they reached a pretty even space, and were 
slowly proceeding, when all at once a shot went off beside 
them ; and at the same time two secret iron-grated doors 
started out, and enclosed them on both sides. Not, indeed, 
the whole of them : Wilhelm and Felix only were caught. 
For Fitz, the instant he heard the shot, sprang back ; and 
the closing grate caught nothing but his wide sleeve : he him- 
self, nimbly throwing off his jacket, had darted away without 
loss of a moment. 

The two prisoners had scarcely time to recover from their 
astonishment, till they heard voices, which appeared to be 
slowly approaching. In a little while some armed men with 
torches came forward to the grate, looking with eager eyes 
what sort of capture they had made. At the same time they 



134 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

asked if the prisoners would surrender peaceably. " Surren- 
der is not the word here," said Wilhelm : '• we are already in 
your power. It is rather our part to ask, whether you will 
spare us? The only weapon we have, I give up to you." 
And with these words he handed his hanger through the 
grate : this opened directly, and the two strangers were led 
forward by the party with great composure. After a short 
while they found themselves in a singular place : it was a 
spacious, cleanly apartment, with many little windows at the 
very top of the walls ; and these, notwithstanding the thick 
iron gratings, admitted light enough. Seats, sleeping-places, 
and whatever else is expected in a middling inn, had been 
provided ; and it seemed as if any one placed here could 
want nothing but freedom. 

Wilhelm, directly after enteriug, had sat down to consider 
his situation : Felix, on the other hand, on recovering from 
his astonishment, broke out into an incredible fury. These 
large walls, these high windows, these strong doors, this 
seclusion, this restriction, were entirely new to him. He 
looked round and round, he ran hither and thither, stamped 
with his feet, wept, rattled the doors, struck against them with 
his fists, nay, was even on the point of running at them 
with his head, had not Wilhelm seized him, and held him 
fast between his knees. " Do but look at the thing calmly, 
my son," began he; "for impatience and violence cannot 
help us. The mystery will clear up ; and I must be widely 
mistaken, or we are fallen into no wicked hands. Read these 
inscriptions : ' To the innocent, deliverance and reparation ; 
to the misled, compassion ; and, to the guilty, avenging jus- 
tice.' All this bespeaks to us that these establishments are 
works, not of cruelty, but of necessity. Men have but too 
much cause to secure themselves from men. Of ill-wishers 
there are many, of ill-doers not few ; and, to live fitly, well- 
doing will not always suffice." Felix still sobbed; but he 
had pacified himself in some degree, more by the caresses 
than the words of his father. " Let this experience," con- 
tinued Wilhelm, "which thou gainest so early and so inno- 
cently, remain a lively testimony to thy mind, in how complete 
and accomplished a century thou livest. What a journey 
had human nature to travel before it reached the poiirt of 
being mild, even to the guilty, merciful to thq injurious, hu- 
mane to the inhuman ! Doubtless the}' were men of godlike 
souls who first taught this, who spent their lives in rendering 
the practice of it possible, and recommending it to others. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 135 

Of the beautiful, men are seldom capable, oftener of the 
good ; and how highly should we value those who endeavor, 
with great sacrifices, to forward that good among their 
fellows!" 

Felix, in the course of this consolatory speech, had fallen 
quietly asleep on his father's bosom ; and scarcely had the 
latter laid him down on one of the ready-made beds, when 
the door opened, and a man of prepossessing appearance 
stepped in. After looking kindly at Wilhelm for some time, 
he began to inquire about the circumstances which had led 
him by the private passage, and into this predicament. Wil- 
helm related the affair as it stood, produced some papers 
which served to explain who he was, and referred to the 
porter, who, he said, must soon arrive on the other side, by 
the usual road. This being so far explained, the official 
person invited his guest to follow him. Felix could not be 
awakened, and his father carried him asleep from the place 
which had incited him to such violent passion. 

Wilhelm followed his conductor into a fair garden-apart- 
ment, where refreshments were set down, which he was in- 
vited to partake of ; while the other went to report the state 
of matters to his superior. When Felix, on awakening, per- 
ceived a little covered table, fruit, wine, biscuit, and, at the 
same time, the cheerful aspect of a wide-open door, he knew 
not what to make of it. He ran out, he ran back ; he thought 
he had been dreaming ; and in a little while, with such dainty 
fare and such pleasant sights, the preceding terror and all 
his obstruction had vanished like an oppressive vision in the 
brightness of morning. 

The porter had arrived ; the officer, with another man of a 
still friendlier aspect, brought him in ; and the business now 
came to light, as follows : The owner of this property, chari- 
table in this higher sense, that he studied to awaken all 
round him to activity and effort, had, for several years, been 
accustomed, from his boundless young plantations, to give 
out the small wood to diligent and careful cultivators, gratis ; 
to the negligent, for a certain price ; and to such as wished to 
trade in it, likewise at a moderate valuation. But these two 
latter classes, also, had required their supplies gratis, as the 
meritorious were treated ; and, this being refused them, they 
had attempted stealing trees. Their attempt succeeded in 
many ways. This vexed the owner the more, as not only 
were the plantations plundered, but, by too early thinning, 
often ruined. It had been discovered that the thieves en- 



136 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

tered by this aqueduct : so the trap-gate had been erected in 
the place, with a spring-gun, which, however, was only meant 
for a signal. This little boy had, under various pretexts, 
often made his appearance in the garden ; and nothing was, 
more natural than that, out of mischief and audacity, he 
should lead the stranger by a road which he had formerly 
discovered for other purposes. The people could have 
wished to get hold of him : meanwhile, his little jacket was 
brought in, and put by among other judicial seizures. 

Wilhelm was now made acquainted with the owner and his 
people, and by them received with the friendliest welcome. 
Of this family we shall say nothing more here, as some fur- 
ther light on them and their concerns is offered us by the 
subsequent history. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Wilhelm to Natalia. 



Man is of a companionable, conversing nature : his de- 
light is great when he exercises faculties that have been 
given him, even though nothing further came of it. How 
often in society do we hear the complaint that one will not 
let the other speak ; and in the same manner, a^so, we might 
say, that one would not let the other write, were not writing 
an employment commonly transacted in private and alone. 

How much people write, one could scarcely ever conjecture. 
I speak not of what is printed, though that, in itself, is 
abundant enough, but of all that, in the shape of letters 
and memorials and narratives, anecdotes, descriptions of 
present circumstances in the life of individuals, sketches, 
and larger essays, circulates in secret : of this you can form 
no idea, till you have lived for some time in a community of 
cultivated families, as I am now doing. In the sphere where 
I am moving at present, there is almost as much time em- 
ployed in informing friends and relatives of what is trans- 
acted as was employed in transacting it. This observation, 
which for several weeks has been constantly forced on me, 
I now make with the more pleasure, as the writing tendency 
of my new friends enables me, at once and perfectly, to get 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 137 

acquainted with their characters and circumstances. I am 
trusted : a, sheaf of letters is given to me, some quires of a 
travelling-journal, the confessions of some mind not yet in 
unity with itself ; and thus everywhere, in a little while, I am 
at home. I know the neighboring circle, I know the persons 
whose acquaintance I am to obtain : I understand them bet- 
ter, almost, than they do themselves ; seeing they are still 
implicated in their situation, while I hover lightly past them, 
ever with thy hand in mine, ever speaking with thee about 
all I see. Indeed, it is the first condition I make before ac- 
cepting any confidence offered me, that I may impart it to 
thee. Here, accordingly, are some letters which will intro- 
duce thee into the circle in which, without breaking or evad- 
ing my vow, I, for the present, revolve. 



TPIE NUT-BROWN MAID. 

Lenardo to his Aunt. 

At last, dear aunt, after three years you receive my first 
letter, conformably to our engagement, which, in truth, was 
singular enough. I wished to see the world and mingle in it, 
and wished, during that period, to forget the home whence I 
had departed, whither I hoped to return. The whole impres- 
sion of this home I purposed to retain, and the partial and 
individual was not to confuse me at a distance. Meanwhile 
the necessary tokens of life and welfare have, from time to 
time, passed to and fro between us. I have regularly received 
money, and little presents for my kindred have been deliv- 
ered you for distribution. By the wares I sent, you would 
see how and where I was. By the wines, I doubt not my 
uncle has tasted out my several places of abode ; then the 
laces, knick-knacks, steel wares, would indicate to my fair 
cousins my progress through Brabant, by Paris, to London ; 
and so, on their writing-desks, work-boxes, tea-tables, I shall 
find many a symbol wherewith to connect the history of my 
journeyings. You have accompanied me without hearing of 
me, and, perhaps, may care little about knowing more. For 



138 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

me, on the other hand, it is highty desirable to learn, through 
your kindness, how it stands with the circle into which I am 
once more entering. I would, in truth, return from strange 
countries as a stranger, who, that he may not be unpleasant, 
first informs himself about the way and manner of the house- 
hold ; not fancying, that, for his fine eyes or hair, he shall be 
received there quite in his own fashion. Write to me, there- 
fore, of my worthy uncle, of your fair nieces, of yourself, of 
our relations near and distant, of servants also, old and new. 
In short, let your practised pen, which for so long a time you 
have not dipped into ink for your nephew, now again tint 
paper in his favor. Your letter of news shall forthwith be 
my credential, with which I introduce nryself so soon as I 
obtain it. On you, therefore, it depends, whether you will 
see me or not. We alter far less than we imagine ; and cir- 
cumstances, too, continue much as they were. Not only what 
has altered, but what has continued, what has by degrees 
waxed and waned, do I now wish instantly to recognize at 
my return, and so once more to see myself in a well-known 
mirror. Present my heartiest salutations to all our people, 
and believe, that, in the singular manner of my absence and 
my return, there may lie more true affection than is often 
found in constant participation and lively intercourse. A 
thousand compliments to one and all ! 

Postscript. — Neglect not, also, my dear aunt, to say a 
word or two about our dependants, — how it stands with our 
stewards and farmers. What has become of Valerina, the 
daughter of that farmer whom my uncle, with justice cer- 
tainly, but also, as I thought, with some severity, ejected 
from his lands when I went away? You see, I still remember 
many a particular : I still know all. On the past you shall 
examine me when you have told me of the present. 



The Aunt to Julietta. 

At last, dear children, a letter from our three-years' speech- 
less traveller. What strange beings these strange men are ! 
He will have it that his wares and tokens were as good as so 
many kind words, which friend may speak or write to friend. 
He actually fancies himself our creditor, requires from us, in 
the first place, the performance of that service which he so 
unkindly refused. What is to be done? Forme, I should 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 139 

have met his wishes forthwith in a long letter, did not this 
headache signify too clearly that the present sheet can scarcely 
be filled. We all long to see him. Bo you, my dears, under- 
take the business. Should I be recovered before you have 
done, I will contribute nry share. Choose the persons and 
circumstances, as you like best to describe them. Divide 
the task. You will do it all far better than I. The messen- 
ger will bring me back a note from you. 

Jtdietta to her Aunt. 

We have read and considered, and now send you by the 
messenger our view of the matter, each in particular ; having 
first jointly signified that we are not so charitable as our dear 
aunt to her ever perverse nephew. Now, when he has kept 
his cards hid from us for three years, and still keeps them 
hid, we, forsooth, are to spread ours on the table, and play 
an open against a secret game. This is not fair, and yet let 
it pass ; for the craftiest is often caught, simply by his own 
ovtr-anxious precautions. But, as to the way and manner of 
transacting this commission, we are not agreed. To write 
of our familiars as we think of them is for us, at least, a 
very strange problem. Commonly we do not think of them 
at all, except in this or that particular case, when they give us 
some peculiar satisfaction or vexation. At other times % each 
lets his neighbor go his way. You alone could manage it, 
dear aunt ; for you have both the penetration and the toler- 
ance. Hersilia, who, } 7 ou know, is not difficult to kindle, has 
just, on the spur of the moment, given me a bird's-eye view 
of the whole family in all the graces of caricature. I wish 
it stood on paper, to entice a smile from yourself in your ill- 
ness, but not that I would have it sent. My own project is, 
to lay before him our correspondence for these three years : 
then let him read, if he have the heart ; or let him come and 
see with his eyes, if he have not. Your letters to me, dear 
aunt, are in the best order, and all at your service. Hersilia 
dissents from this opinion, excuses herself with the disorder 
of her papers, and so forth, as she will tell you herself. 

Hersilia to her Aunt. 

I will and must be very brief, dear aunt ; for the messenger 
is clownishly impatient. I reckon it an excess of generosity, 



140 MEISTERS TRAVELS. 

and not at all in season, to submit our correspondence to 
Lenardo. What has he to do with knowing all the good we 
have said of him, with knowing all the ill we have said of 
him, and finding out from the latter, still more than from the 
former, that we like him ? Hold him tight, I entreat you ! 
There is something so precise and presumptuous in this de- 
mand, in this conduct, of his, — just the fashion of your 
young gentlemen when they return from foreign parts. They 
can never look on those who have staid at home as full-grown 
persons, like themselves. Make your headache an excuse. 
He will come, doubtless ; and, if he do not come, we can wait 
a little. Perhaps his next idea may be, to introduce himself 
in some strange, secret way, to become acquainted with us 
in disguise ; and who knows what more may be included in 
the plan of so deep a gentleman ? How pretty and curious 
this would be ! It could not fail to bring about all manner 
of embroilments and developments, far grander than any 
that could be produced by such a diplomatic entrance into 
his family as he now purposes. 

The messenger ! The messenger ! Bring up your old peo- 
ple better, or send young ones. This man is neither to be 
pacified with flattery nor wine. A thousand farewells ! 

Postscript for Postscript. — What does our cousin want, 
will you tell me, with his postscript of Valerina? This ques- 
tion of his has struck me doubly. She is the only person 
whom he mentions by name. The rest of us are nieces, aunts, 
stewards, — not persons, but titles. Valerina, our lawyer's 
daughter ! In truth, a pretty, fair-haired girl, that may have 
glanced in our gallant cousin's eyes before he went away. 
She is married well and happily : this to you is no news ; but 
to him it is, of course, as unknown as every thing that has 
occurred here. Forget not to inform him, in a postscript, 
that Valerina grew daily more and more beautiful, and so at 
last made a very good match. That she is the wife of a rich 
proprietor. That the lovely, fair-haired maid is married. 
Make it perfectly distinct to him. But neither is this all, 
dear aunt. How the man can so accurately remember his 
flaxen-headed beauty, and }'et confound her with the daughter 
of that worthless farmer, with a wild humble-bee ol a bru- 
nette, whose name was Nachodina, and who went away, 
Heaven knows whither, — this, I declare to you, remains 
entirely incomprehensible, and puzzles me quite excessively. 
For it seems as if our pretty cousin, who prides himself on 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 141 

his good memory, could change names and persons to a very 
strange degree. Perhaps he feels this obscurely himself, 
and would have the faded image refreshed by your delinea- 
tion. Hold him tight, I beg of you ! but try to learn, for our 
own behoof, how it does stand with these Valerinas and 
Nachodinas, and how many more Inas and Trinas have re- 
tained their place in his imagination, while the poor Ettas 
and Ilias have vanished. The messenger ! The cursed 
messenger ! 

The Aunt to her Nieces. 
(Dictated. ) 

Why should we dissemble towards those we have to spend 
our life with? Lenardo, with all his peculiarities, deserves 
confidence. I send him both your letters ; from these he will 
get a view of you : and the rest of us, I hope, will erelong 
unconsciously find occasion to depict ourselves before him 
likewise. Farewell ! My head is very painful. 



Hersilia to her Aunt. 

Why should we dissemble towards those we have to spend 
our life with ? Lenardo is a spoiled nephew. It is horrible 
in you to send hira our letters. From these he will get no 
real view of us ; and I wish, with all my heart, for oppor- 
tunity to let him view me in some other light. You give 
pain to others, while you are in pain yourself, and blind to 
boot. Quick recovery to your head ! Your heart is irrecov- 
erable. 

The Aunt to Hersilia. 

Thy last note I should likewise have packed in for Le- 
nardo, had I happened to continue by the purpose which my 
irrecoverable heart, my sick head, and my love of ease, sug- 
gested to me. Your letters are not gone. I am just parting 
with the young man who has been for some time living in our 
circle, who, by the strangest chance, has come to know us 
pretty well, and is, withal, of an intelligent and kindly 
nature. Him I am despatching. He undertakes the task 
with great readiness. He will prepare our nephew, and 
send or bring him. Thus can your aunt recollect herself in 



142 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

the course of a rash enterprise, and bend into another path. 
Hersilia also will take thought, and a friendly revocation 
will not long be wanting from her hand. 

Wilhelm having accurately and circumstantially fulfilled 
this task, Lenardo answered with a smile, "Much as I am 
obliged to you for what you tell me, I must still put another 
question. Did not my aunt, in conclusion, request you also 
to inform me of another, and, seemingly, an unimportant, 
matter? " 

Wilhelm thought a moment. "Yes," said he then: "I 
remember. She mentioned a lady, named Valerina. Of her 
I was to tell you that she is happily wedded, and every way 
well." 

" You roll a stone from my heart," replied Lenardo. " I 
now gladly return home, since I need not fear that my recol- 
lection of this girl can reproach me there." 

; ' It beseems not me to inquire what relation you have had to 
her," said Wilhelm : " only you may be at ease if in any way 
you feel concerned for her fortunes." 

"It is the strangest relation in the world," returned Le- 
nardo, — " nowise a love-matter, as you might, perhaps, con- 
jecture. I may confide in you, and tell it ; as, indeed, there 
is next to nothing to be told. But what must you think, 
when I assure you that this faltering in my return, this fear 
of revisiting our family, these strange preparatives, and 
inquiries how things looked at home, had no other object 
but to learn, by the way, how it stood with this young 
woman ? 

"For you will believe," continued he, "I am very well 
aware that we may leave people whom we know without find- 
ing them, even after a considerable time, much altered ; and 
so I likewise expect very soon to be quite at home with my 
relatives. This single being only gave me pause : her for- 
tune, I knew, must have changed ; and, thank Heaven, it 
has changed for the better." 

" You excite my curiosity," said Wilhelm. " There must 
be something singular in this." 

"I, at least, think it so," replied Lenardo, and began his 
narrative as follows : — 

"To accomplish, in mj r youth, the grand adventure of a 
tour through cultivated Europe was a fixed purpose, which I 
had entertained from boyhood ; but the execution of which 
was, as usually happens in these things, from time to time 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 143 

postponed. What was at hand attracted me, retained me ; 
and the distant lost more and more of its charms the more I 
lead of it or heard it talked of. However, at last, incited 
by my uncle, allured by friends who had gone forth into the 
world before me, I did form the resolution, and that more 
rapidly than any one had been expecting. 

u My uncle, who had to afford the main requisite for my 
enterprise, directly made this his chief concern. You know 
him, and the way he has, — how he still rushes with his 
whole force on one single object, and every thing else in the 
mean while must rest and be silent : by which means, indeed, 
he has effected much that seemed to lie beyond the influence 
of any private man. This journey came upon him, in some 
degree, unawares ; yet he very soon took his measures. 
Some buildings which he had planned, nay, even begun, were 
abandoned ; and, as he never on any account meddles with 
his accumulated stock, he looked about him, as a prudent 
financier, for other ways and means. The most obvious 
plan was, to call in outstanding debts, especially remainders 
of rent ; for this, also, was one of his habits, that he was 
indulgent to debtors, so long as he himself had, to a certain 
degree, no need of money. He gave his steward the list, 
with orders to manage the business. Of individual cases we 
learned nothing: only I heard transiently, that the farmer 
of one of our estates, with whom my uncle had long exercised 
patience, was at last actually to be ejected ; his cautionary 
pledge, a scanty supplement to the produce of this prosecu- 
tion, to be retained, and the land to be let to some other 
person. This man was of a religious turn, but not, like 
others of his sect among us, shrewd and active withal ; for 
his piety and his goodness he was loved Ly his neighbors, 
but, at the same time, censured for his weakness, as the 
master of a house. After the death of his wife, a daughter, 
whom we usually named the Nut-brown Maid, though already 
giving promise of activity and resolution, was still too young 
for taking a decisive management : in short, the man went 
back in his affairs ; and my uncle's indulgence had not 
stayed the sinking of his fortune. 

"I had my journey in my head, and could not quarrel 
with the means for accomplishing it. All was ready : pack- 
ing and sorting went forward ; every moment was becoming 
full of business. One evening I was strolling through the 
park for the last time, to take leave of my familiar trees 
and bushes, when all at once Valerina stepped into my way, 



144 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

— for such was the girl's name: the other was. but a by- 
name, occasioned by her brown complexion. She stepped 
into my way." 

Lenardo paused for a moment, as if considering. " How 
is this, then?" said he. ''Was her name really Valerina? 
Yes, surely," he continued; "but the by-name was more 
common. In short, the brown maid came into my path, and 
pressingly entreated me to speak a good word for her father, 
for herself, to my uncle. Knowing how the matter stood, 
and seeing clearly that it would be difficult, nay, impossible, 
to do her any service at this moment, I candidly told her so, 
and set before her the blameworthiness of her father in an 
unfavorable light. 

" She answered this with so much clearness, and, at the 
same time, with so much filial mitigation and love, that quite 
gained me ; and, had it been my own money, I should 
instantly have made her happy by granting her request. 
But it was my uncle's income ; these were his arrangements, 
his orders : with such a temper as his, to attempt altering 
aught that had been done was hopeless. From of old I had 
looked on a promise as in the highest degree sacred. Who- 
ever asked any thing of me embarrassed me. I had so ac- 
customed myself to refuse, that I did not even promise 
what I purposed to perform. This habit came in good stead 
in the present instance. Her arguments turned on individu- 
ality and affection, mine on duty and reason ; and I will not 
deny that at last they seemed too harsh, even to myself. 
Already we had more than once repeated our topics without 
convincing one another, when necessity made her more elo- 
quent : the inevitable ruin which she saw before her pressed 
tears from her e3 r es. Her collected manner she entirely lost : 
she spoke with vivacity, with emotion ; and, as I still kept 
up a show of coldness and composure, her whole soul turned 
itself outwards. I wished to end the scene ; but all at once 
she was loing at m} r feet, had seized my hand, kissed it, and 
was looking up to me, so good, so gentle, with such suppli- 
cating loveliness, that, in the haste of the moment, I forgot 
myself. Hurriedly I said, while raising her from her kneel- 
ing posture, ' 1 will do what is possible : compose tlryself, my 
child ! ' and so turned into a side-path. ' Do what is impos- 
sible ! ' cried she after me. I now knew not what I was 
saying, but answered, ; I will,' and hesitated. 'Do it!' 
cried she, at once enlivened, and with a heavenly expression 
of hope. I waved a salutation to her, and hastened away. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 145 

"To my uncle I did not mean to apply directly; for I 
knew too well that with him it was vain to speak about the 
partial, when his purpose was the whole. I inquired for 
the steward ; he had ridden off to a distance : visitors came 
in the evening, friends wishing to take leave of me. They 
supped and played till far in the night. They continued 
next day, and their presence effaced the image of my im- 
porunate petitioner. The steward returned : he was busier 
and more overloaded than ever. All were asking for him : 
he had no time to hear me. However, I did make an effort 
to detain him ; but scarcely had I named that pious farmer, 
when he eagerly repelled the proposal. * For Heaven's sake, 
not a word of this to your uncle, if you would not have a 
quarrel with him ! ' The day of my departure was fixed : I 
had letters to write, guests to receive, visits in the neighbor- 
hood to pay. My servants had been hitherto sufficient for 
my wants, but were nowise adequate to forward the arrange- 
ments of a distant journey. All lay on my own hands ; and 
yet, when the steward appointed me an hour in the night be- 
fore my departure to settle our money concerns, I neglected 
not again to solicit him for Valerina's father. 

" c Dear baron,' said the unstable man, 4 how can such a 
thing ever come into your head ? To-day already I have had 
a hard piece of work with your uncle, for the sum you need 
is turning out to be far higher than we reckoned on. This 
is natural enough, but not the less perplexing. To the old 
gentleman it is especially unwelcome, when a business seems 
concluded, and yet many odds and ends are found straggling 
after it. This is often the case, and I and the rest have to 
take the brunt of it. As to the rigor with which the out- 
standing debts were to be gathered in, he himself laid down 
the law to me : he is at one with himself on this point, and 
it would be no easy task to move him to indulgence. Do 
not try it, I beg of you ! It is quite in vain.' 

" I let him deter me from my attempt, but not entirely. I 
pressed him, since the execution of the business depended 
on himself, to act with mildness and mercy. He promised 
every thing, according to the fashion of such persons, for 
the sake of momentary peace. He got quit of me : the 
bustle, the hurry of business, increased. I was in my car- 
riage, and had turned my back on all home concerns. 

"A keen impression is like any other wound: we do not 
feel it in receiving it. Not till afterwards does it begin to 
smart and gangrene. So was it with me in regard to this 



146 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

occurrence in the park. Whenever I was solitary, whenever 
I was unemployed, that image of the entreating maiden, with 
the whole accompaniment, with every tree and bush, the place 
where she knelt, the side-path I took to get rid of her, the 
whole scene, rose like a fresh picture before my soul. It 
was an indestructible impression, which, by other images and 
interests, might indeed be shaded or overhung, but never 
obliterated. Still, in every quiet hour, she came before me ; 
and, the longer it lasted, the more painful did I feel the blame 
which I had incurred against my principles, against my cus- 
tom, though not expressly, only while hesitating, and for the 
first time caught in such a perplexity. 

"I failed not, in my earliest letters, to inquire of our 
steward how the business had turned. He answered evas- 
ively. Then he engaged to explain this point ; then he 
wrote ambiguously ; at last he became silent altogether. 
Distance increased ; more objects came between me and my 
home ; I was called to many new observations, many new 
sympathies ; the image faded away, the maiden herself, al- 
most to the name. The remembrance of her came more 
rarely before me ; and my whim of keeping up my inter- 
course with home, not by letters, but by tokens, tended 
gradually to make my previous situation, with all its circum- 
stances, nearly vanish from my mind. Now, however, when 
I am again returning home, when I am purposing to repay 
my family with interest what I have so long owed it, now at 
last this strange repentance, strange I myself must call it, 
falls on me with its whole weight. The form of the maiden 
brightens up with the forms of my relatives : and I dread 
nothing more deeply than to learn, that, in the misery into 
which I drove her, she has sunk to ruin ; for my negligence 
appears in my own mind an abetting of her destruction, a 
furtherance of her mournful destiny. A thousand times I 
have told myself that this feeling was at bottom but a weak- 
ness ; that my early adoption of the principle, never to 
promise, had originated in my fear of repentance, not in any 
noble sentiment. And now it seems as if Repentance, which 
I had fled from, meant to avenge herself by seizing this in- 
cident, instead of hundreds, to pain me. Yet is the picture, 
the imagination which torments me, so agreeable withal, so 
lovely, that I like to linger over it. And, when I think of 
the scene, that kiss which she imprinted on my hand still 
seems to burn there." 

Lenardo was silent ; and Wilhelm answered quickly and 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 147 

gayly, " It appears, then, I could have done j t ou no greater 
service than by that appendix to my narrative ; as we often 
find in the postscript the most interesting part of the letter. 
In truth, I know little of Valerina, for I heard of her only 
in passing : but, for certain, she is the wife of a prosperous 
land-owner, and lives happily ; as your aunt assured me on 
taking leave." 

" Good and well," said Lenardo : u now there is nothing 
to detain me. You have given me absolution : let us now to 
my friends, who have already waited for me too long." To 
this Wilhelm answered, "Unhappily I cannot attend you; 
for a strange obligation lies on me to continue nowhere longer 
than three days, and not to revisit any place in less than a 
year. Pardon me, if I am not at liberty to mention the 
cause of this singularity." 

" I am very sorry," said Lenardo, " that we are to lose 
you so soon ; that I cannot, in my turn, do any thing for you. 
But, since you are already in the way of showing me kind- 
ness, you might make me very happy if you pleased to visit 
Valerina, to inform yourself accurately of her situation, and 
then to let me have in writing or in speech (a place of meet- 
ing might easily be found,) express intelligence for my 
complete composure." 

This proposal was further discussed : Valerina' s place of 
residence had been named to Wilhelm. He engaged to visit 
her : a place of meeting was appointed, to which the baron 
should come, bringing Felix with him, who in the mean while 
had remained with the ladies. 

Lenardo and Wilhelm had proceeded on their way for some 
time, riding together through pleasant fields, with abundance 
of conversation, when at last they approached the highway, 
and found the baron's coach in waiting, now ready to revisit, 
with its owner, the spot it had left three years before. Here 
the friends were to part ; and Wilhelm, with a few kindly 
words, took his leave, again promising the baron speedy 
news of Valerina. 

M Now, when I bethink me," said Lenardo, " that it were 
but a small circuit if I accompanied you, why should I not 
visit Valerina myself? Why not witness with my own eyes 
her happy situation? You were so friendly as to engage to 
be my messenger, why should you not be my companion? 
For some companion I must have, some moral counsel ; as 
we take legal counsel to assist us, when we think ourselves 
inadequate to the perplexities of a process." 



148 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

Wilhelm' s objections, that the friends at home would be 
anxiously expecting the long-absent traveller, that it would 
produce a strange impression if the carriage came alone, and 
other reasons of the like sort, had no weight with Lenardo ; 
and Wilhelm was obliged at last to resolve on acting the 
companion to the baron, a task on which, considering the 
consequences that might be apprehended, he entered with no 
great alacrity. 

Accordingly the servants were instructed what to say on 
their arrival, and the two friends now took the road for 
Valerina's house. The neighborhood appeared rich and fer- 
tile, the true seat of agriculture. Especially the grounds of 
Valerina's husband seemed to be managed with great skill 
and care. Wilhelm had leisure to survey the landscape ac- 
curately, while Lenardo rode in silence beside him. At last 
the latter said, " Another in my place would perhaps try 
to meet Valerina undiscovered, for it is always a painful 
feeling to appear before those whom we have injured ; but I 
had rather front this, and bear the reproach which I have to 
dread from her first look, than secure myself from it by dis- 
guise and untruth. Untruth may bring us into embarrass- 
ment quite as well as truth ; and, when we reckon up how 
often the former or the latter profits us, it really seems most 
prudent, once for all, to devote ourselves to what is true. 
Let us go forward, therefore, with cheerful minds : I will 
give my name, and introduce you as my friend and fellow- 
traveller. ' ' 

They had now reached the house, and dismounted in the 
court. A portly man, plainly dressed, whom you might have 
taken for a farmer, came out to them, and announced him- 
self as master of the family. Lenardo named himself ; and 
the landlord seemed highly delighted to see him, and obtain 
his acquaintance. " What will my wife say," cried he, 
' ' when she again meets the nephew of her benefactor ? She 
never tires of recounting and reckoning up what her father 
owes your uncle." 

What strange thoughts rushed in rapid disorder through 
Lenardo's mind! "Does this man, who looks so honest- 
minded, hide his bitterness under a friendly countenance 
and smooth words ? Can he give his reproaches so courteous 
an outside? For did not my uncle reduce that family to 
misery? And can the man be ignorant of this? Or," so 
thought he to himself, with quick hope, " has the business 
not been so bad as thou supposest? For no decisive intel- 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 149 

ligence has ever yet reached thee." Such conjectures alter- 
nated this way and that, while the landlord was ordering out 
his carriage to bring home his wife, who, it appeared, was 
paying a visit in the neighborhood. 

" If, in the mean while, till my wife return," said the 
latter, " I might entertain you in my own way, and at the 
same time carry on my duties, say you walk a few steps 
with me into the fields, and look about you how I manage 
my husbandry ; for, no doubt, to you, as a great proprietor 
of land, there is nothing of more near concernment than the 
noble science, the noble art, of agriculture." 

Lenardo made no objection : Wilhelm liked to gather in- 
formation. The landlord had his ground, which he pos- 
sessed and ruled without restriction, under the most perfect 
treatment ; what he undertook was adapted to his purpose ; 
what he sowed and planted was always in the right place ; 
and he could so clearly explain his mode of procedure, and 
the reasons of it, that every one comprehended him, and 
thought it possible for himself to do the same, — a mistake 
one is apt to fall into on looking at a master, in whose hand 
all moves as it should do. 

The strangers expressed their satisfaction, and had noth- 
ing but praise and approval to pronounce on every thing they 
saw. He received it gratefully and kindly, and at last 
added, " Now, however, I must show you my weak side, a 
quality discernible in every one that yields himself exclusively 
to one pursuit." He led them to his court-yard, showed 
them his implements, his store of these, and, besides this, a 
store of all imaginable sorts of farm-gear, with its appurte- 
nances, kept by way of specimen. " I am often blamed," 
said he, "for going too far in this matter; but I cannot 
quite blame myself. Happy is he to whom his business itself 
becomes a puppet, who, at length, can play with it, and 
amuse himself with what his situation makes his duty." 

The two friends were not behindhand with their questions 
and examinations. Wilhelm, in particular, delighted in the 
general observations which this man appeared to have a turn 
for making, and failed not to answer them ; while the baron, 
more immersed in his own thoughts, took silent pleasure in 
the happiness of Valerina, which, in this situation, he reck- 
oned sure, yet felt underhand a certain faint shadow of dis- 
satisfaction, of which he could give himself no account. 

The party had returned within doors, when the lady's car- 
riage drove up. They hastened out to meet her ; but what 



150 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

was Lenardo' s amazement, his fright, when she stepped 
forth ! This was not the person : this was no nut-brown 
maid, but directly the reverse, — a fair, slim form, in truth, 
but light-haired, and possessing all the charms which be- 
longed to that complexion. 

This beauty, this grace, affrighted Lenardo. His eyes had 
sought the brown maiden : now quite a different figure 
glanced before them. These features, too, he recollected ; 
her words, her manners, soon banished all uncertainty ; it 
was the daughter of the lawyer, a man who stood in high 
favor with the uncle ; for which reason also the dowry had 
been so handsome, and the new pair so generously dealt 
with. All this, and much more, was gayly recounted by the 
young wife as an introductory salutation, and with such a 
joy as the surprise of an unexpected meeting naturally gives 
rise to. The question, whether they could recognize each 
other, was mutually put and answered : the changes in look 
were talked of, which in persons of that age are found 
notable enough. Valerina was at all times agreeable, but 
lovely in a high degree when any joyful feeliug raised her 
above her usual level of indifference. The company grew 
talkative : the conversation became so lively that Lenardo 
was enabled to compose himself and hide his confusion. 
Wilhelm, to whom he had very soon given a sign of this 
strange incident, did his best to help him ; and Valerina' s 
little touch of vanity in thinking that the baron, even before 
visiting his own friends, had remembered her, and come to 
see her, excluded any shadow of suspicion that another pur- 
pose, or a misconception, could be concerned in the affair. 

The party kept together till a late hour, though the two 
friends were longing for a confidential dialogue ; which, 
accordingly, commenced the moment they were left alone in 
their allotted chambers. 

" It appears," said Lenardo, " I am not to get rid of this 
secret pain. A luckless confusion of names, I now observe, 
redoubles it. This fair-haired beauty I have often seen play- 
ing with the brunette, who could not be called a beauty ; 
nay, I myself have often run about with them over the fields 
and gardens, though so much older than they. Neither of 
them made the slightest impression on me : I have but re- 
tained the name of the one and applied it to the other. 
And now her who does not concern me I find happy above 
measure in her own way ; while the other is cast forth, who 
knows whither? into the wide world." 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 151 

Next morning the friends were up almost sooner than their 
active entertainers. The happiness of seeing her guests had 
also awakened Valerina early. She little fancied with what 
feelings they came to breakfast. Wilhelm, seeing clearly, 
that, without some tidings of the nut-brown maid, Lenardo 
must continue in a painful state, led the conversation to old 
times, to playmates, to scenes which he himself knew, and 
other such recollections ; so that Valerina soon quite natu- 
rally came to speak of the nut-brown maid, and to mention 
her name. 

No sooner did Lenardo hear the name Nachodina, than he 
perfectly remembered it ; but, with the name, the figure also, 
of that supplicant, returned to him with such violence that 
Valerina* s further narrative became quite agonizing to him, 
as with warm sympathy she proceeded to describe the dis- 
trainment of the pious farmer, his submissive resignation 
and departure, and how he went away, leaning on his 
daughter, who carried a little bundle in her hand, lenardo 
was like to sink under the earth. Unhappily and happily, 
she went into a certain circumstantiality in her details ; 
which, while it tortured Lenardo' s heart, enabled him, with 
help of his associate, to put on some appearance of com- 
posure. 

The travellers departed amid warm, sincere invitations, on 
the part of the married pair, to return soon, and a faint, 
hollow assent on their own part. And as a person who 
stands in any favor with himself takes every thing in a favor- 
able light ; so Valerina explained Lenardo' s silence, his visi- 
ble confusion in taking leave, his hasty departure, entirely to 
her own advantage, and could not, although the faithful and 
loving wife of a worthy gentleman, help feeling some small 
satisfaction at this re-awakening or incipient inclination, as 
she reckoned it, of her former landlord. 

After this strange incident, while the friends were pro- 
ceeding on their way, Lenardo thus addressed Wilhelm : 
" For our shipwreck with such fair hopes, at the very en- 
trance of the haven, I can still console myself in some degree 
for the moment, and go calmly to meet my people, when I 
think that Heaven has brought me you, you to whom, under 
your peculiar mission, it is indifferent whither or how you 
direct your path. Engage to find out Nachodina, and to give 
me tidings of her. If she be happy, then am I content ; 
if unhappy, then help her at my charges. Act without re- 
serve ; spare, calculate nothing. I shall return home, shall 



152 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

endeavor to get intelligence, and send your Felix to you by 
some trusty person. Place the boy, as your intention was, 
where many of his equals are placed : it is almost indifferent 
under what superintendence ; but I am much mistaken if, in 
the neighborhood, in the place where I wish you to wait for 
your son and his attendant, you do not find a man that can 
give you the best counsel on this point. It is he to whom I 
owe the training of my youth, whom I should have liked so 
much to take along with me in my travels, whom, at least, I 
should many a time have wished to meet in the course of 
them, had he not already devoted himself to a quiet, domes- 
tic life." 

The friends had now reached the spot where they were 
actually to part. While the horses were feeding, the baron 
wrote a letter, which Wilhelm took charge of, yet, for the 
rest, could not help communicating his scruples to Lenardo. 

" In my present situation," said he, " I reckon it a desira- 
ble commission to deliver a generous man from distress of 
mind, and, at the same time, to free a human creature from 
misery, if she happen to be miserable. Such an object one 
may look upon as a star, towards which one sails, not know- 
ing what awaits him, what he is to meet, by the way. Yet, 
with all this, I must not be blind to the danger which, in 
every case, still hovers over you. Were you not a man who 
regularly avoids engagements, I should require a promise 
from you not again to see this female, who has come to be so 
precious in your eyes, but to content yourself when I an- 
nounce to you that all is well with her, be it that I actually 
find her happy, or am enabled to make her so. But, having 
neither power nor wish to extort a promise from you, I con- 
jure you by all you reckon dear and sacred, for your own 
sake, for that of your kindred, and of me, your new-acquired 
friend, to allow yourself no approximation to that lost maiden 
under what pretext soever ; not to require of me that I men- 
tion or describe the place where I find her, or the neighbor- 
hood where I leave her ; but to believe my word that she is 
well, aud be enfranchised and at peace." 

Lenardo gave a smile, aud answered, "Perform this ser- 
vice for me, and I shall be grateful. What 30U are willing 
and able to do, I commit to your own hands ; and, for my 
self, leave me to time, to common sense, and, if possible, to 
reason." 

"Pardon me," answered Wilhelm ; "but whoever knows 
under what strange forms love glides into our hearts, cannot 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 153 

but be apprehensive on foreseeing that a friend may come 
to entertain wishes, which, in his circumstances, his station, 
would, of necessity, produce unhappiness and perplexity." 

" I hope," said Lenardo, " when I know the maiden happy, 
I have done with her." 

The friends parted, each in his own direction. 



CHAPTER IX. 

By a short and pleasant road, Wilhelm had reached the 
town to which his letter was directed. He found it gay and 
well built ; but its new aspect showed too clearly, that, not 
long before, it must have suffered by a conflagration. The 
address of his letter let him into the last small, uninjured 
portion of the place, to a house of ancient, earnest architec- 
ture, yet well kept, and of a tidy look. Dim windows, 
strangely fashioned, indicated an exhilarating pomp of colors 
from within. Nor, in fact, did the interior fail to correspond 
with the exterior. In clean apartments, everywhere stood 
furniture, which must have served several generations, inter- 
mixed with very little that was new. The master of the 
house received our traveller kindly in a little chamber simi- 
larly fitted up. These clocks had already struck the hour of 
many a birth and many a death : every thing which met the 
eye reminded one that the past might, as it were, be pro- 
tracted into the present. 

The stranger delivered his letter ; but the landlord, with- 
out opening it, laid it aside, and endeavored, in a cheerful 
conversation, immediately to get acquainted with his guest. 
They soon grew confidential ; and as Wilhelm, contrary to 
his usual habit, let his eye wander inquisitively over the 
room, the good old man said to him, u My domestic equip- 
ment excites your attention. You here see how long a thing 
may last ; and one should make such observations now and 
then, by way of counterbalance to so much in the world 
that rapidly changes, and passes away. This same teakettle 
served my parents, and was a witness of our evening family 
assemblages ; this copper fire-screen still guards me from the 
fire, which these stout old tongs still help me to mend ; and 
so it is with all throughout. I had it in my power to bestow 



1- 



f 



vr 



154 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

my care and industry on many other things, as I did not oc- 
cupy myself with changing these external necessaries, a 
task which consumes so many people's time and resources. 
An affectionate attention to what we possess makes us rich, 
for thereby we accumulate a treasure of remembrances con- 
nected with indifferent things. I knew a young man who 
got a common pin from his love while taking leave of her, ^ 
daily fastened his breast-frill with it, and brought back this 
guarded and not unemployed treasure from a long journey 
ing of several years. In us little men, such little things are 
to be reckoned virtue." 

" Many a one, too," answered Wilhelm, " brings back, 
from such long and far travellings, a sharp pricker in his 
heart, which he would fain be quit of." 

The old man seemed to know nothing of Lenardo's situa- 
tion, though in the mean while he had opened the letter and 
read it ; for he returned to his former topics. 

"Tenacity of our possessions," continued he, "in many 
cases, gives us the greatest energy. To this obstinacy in 
myself I owe the saving of my house. When the town was 
on fire, some people wished to begin snatching and saving 
here too. I forbade this, bolted my doors and windows ; 
and turned out, with several neighbors, to oppose the flames. 
Our efforts succeeded in preserving this summit of the town. 
Next morning all was standing here as you now see it, and 
as it has stood for almost a hundred years." 

"Yet you will confess," said Wilhelm, "that no man 
withstands the change which time produces." 

' ' That in truth ! ' ' said the other ; ( ' but he who holds out 
longest has still done something. 

"Yes: even beyond the limits of our being, we are able 
to maintain and secure ; we transmit discoveries, we hand 
down sentiments as well as property ; and, as the latter was 
my chief province, I have for a long time exercised the 
strictest foresight, invented the most peculiar precautions; 
yet not till lately have I succeeded in seeing my wish ful- 
filled. 

" Commonly the son disperses what the father has col- 
lected, collects something different, or in a different way. 
Yet if we can wait for the grandson, for the new genera- 
tion, we find the same tendencies, the same tastes, again 
making their appearance. And so at last, by the care of our 
pedagogic friends, I have found an active youth, who, if 
possible, pays more regard to old possession than even I, and 



r, 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 155 

has, withal, a vehement attachment to every sort of curiosi- 
ties. My decided confidence he gained by the violent exer- 
tions with which he struggled to keep off the fire from our 
dwelling. Doubly and trebly has he merited the treasure 
which I mean to leave him, — nay, it is already given into 
his hands ; "and ever since that time our store is increasing 
in a wonderful way. 

" Not all, however, that you see here is ours. On the 
contrary, as in the hands of pawnbrokers you find many a 
foreign jewel, so with us, I can show you precious articles, 
which people, under the most various circumstances, have 
deposited with us for the sake of better keeping.'* 

Wilhelm recollected the beautiful box, which, at any rate, 
he did not like to carry with him in his wanderings, and 
showed it to his landlord. The old man viewed it with atten- 
tion, gave the date when it was probably made, and showed 
-n some similar things. Wilhelm asked him if he thought it 
^ should be opened. The old man thought not. "I believe, 
indeed," said he, " it could be done without special harm to 
the casket ; but, as you found it in so singular a way, you 
must try your luck on it. For if you are born lucky, and 
this little box is of any consequence, the key will doubtless 
by and by be found, and in the very place where you are 
least expecting it." 

" There have been such occurrences," said Wilhelm. 

" I have myself experienced such," replied the old man ; 
u and here you behold the strangest of them. Of this ivory 
crucifix I have had, for thirty years, the body with the head 
and feet in one place. For its own nature, as well as for 
the glorious art displayed in it, I kept the figure laid up in 
my most private drawer : nearly ten years ago I got the cross 
belonging to it, with the inscription, and was then induced 
to have the arms supplied by the best carver of our day. 
Far, indeed, was this expert artist from equalling his prede- 
cessor ; yet I let his work pass, more for devout purposes 
than for any admiration of its excellence. 

" Now, conceive my delight ! A little while ago the origi- 
nal, genuine arms were sent me, as you see them here united 
in the loveliest harmony ; and I, charmed at so happy a coin- 
cidence, cannot help recognizing in this crucifix the fortunes 
of the Christian religion, which, often enough dismembered 
and scattered abroad, will ever in the end again gather itself 
together at the foot of the cross." 

Wilhelm admired the figure and its strange combination. 



156 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

u I will follow your counsel," added he: "let the casket 
continue locked till the key of it be found, though it should 
lie till the end of my life." 

" One who lives long," said the old man, " sees much col- 
lected and much cast asunder." 

The young partner in the house now chanced 1x> enter, and 
Wilhelm signified his purpose of intrusting the box to their 
keeping. A large book was thereupon produced, the deposit 
inscribed in it, with many ceremonies and stipulations ; a 
receipt granted, which applied in words to any bearer, but 
was only to be honored on the giving of a certain token 
agreed upon with the owner. 

So passed their hours in instructive and entertaining con- 
versation, till at last Felix, mounted on a gay pony, arrived 
in safety. A groom had accompanied him, and was now, 
for some time, to attend and serve Wilhelm. A letter from 
Lenardo, delivered at the same time, complained that he 
could find no vestige of the nut-brown maid ; and Wilhelm 
was anew conjured to do his utmost in searching her out. 
Wilhelm imparted the matter to his landlord. The latter 
smiled, and said, "We must certainly make every exertion 
for our friend's sake : perhaps I may succeed in learning 
something of her. As I keep these old, primitive household 
goods ; so, likewise, have I kept some old, primitive friends. 
You tell me that this maiden's father was distinguished by 
his piety. The pious have a more intimate connection with 
each other than the wicked, though externally it may not 
always prosper so well. By this means I hope to obtain 
some traces of what you are sent to seek. But, as a prepara- 
tive, do you now pursue the resolution of placing your Felix 
among his equals, and turning him to some fixed department 
of activity. Hasten with him to the great Institution. I 
will point out the way you must follow, in order to find the 
chief, who resides now in one, now in another, division of his 
province. You shall have a letter, with my best advice and 
direction." 



CHAPTER X. 

The pilgrims, pursuing the way pointed out to them, had, 
without difficulty, reached the limits of the province, where 






MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 157 

they were to see so many singularities. At the very entrance 
they found themselves in a district of extreme fertility, — 
in its soft knolls, favorable to crops ; in its higher hills, to 
sheep-husbandry ; in its wide bottoms, to grazing. Harvest 
was near at hand, and all was in the richest luxuriance ; yet 
what most surprised our travellers was, that they observed 
neither men nor women, but, in all quarters, boys and youths 
engaged in preparing for a happy harvest, — nay, already 
making arrangements for a merry harvest-home. Our trav- 
ellers saluted several of them, and inquired for the chief, of 
whose abode, however, they could gain no intelligence. The 
address of their letter was, " To the Chief, or the Three." 
Of this, also, the boys could make nothing : however, they 
referred the strangers to an overseer, who was just about 
mounting his horse to ride off. Our friends disclosed their 
object to this man : the frank liveliness of Felix seemed to 
please him, and so they all rode along together. 

Wilhelm had already noticed, that, in the cut and color of 
the young people's clothes, a variety prevailed, which gave 
the whole tiny population a peculiar aspect : he was just 
about to question his attendant on this point, when a still 
stranger observation forced itself upon him ; all the children, 
how employed soever, laid down their work, and turned, with 
singular, yet diverse, gestures, towards the party riding past 
them, or rather, as it was easy to infer, towards the over- 
seer, who was in it. The youngest laid their arms crosswise 
over their breasts, and looked cheerfully up to the sky ; those 
of middle size held their hands on their backs, and looked 
smiling on the ground ; the eldest stood with a frank and 
spirited air; their arms stretched down, they turned their 
heads to the right, and formed themselves into a line ; whereas 
the others kept separate, each where he chanced to be. 

The riders having stopped and dismounted here, as several 
children, in their various modes, were standing forth to be 
inspected by the overseer, Wilhelm asked the meaning of 
these gestures ; but Felix struck in, and cried gayly, " What 
posture am I to take, then? " 

"Without doubt," said the overseer, " the first posture, 
— the arms over the breast, the face earnest and cheerful 
towards the sky." 

Felix obeyed, but soon cried, "This is not much to my 
taste ; I see nothing up there : does it last long ? But yes ! ' ' 
exclaimed he joyfully : " yonder are a pair of falcons flying 
from the west to the east ; that is a good sign too." 



158 METSTER'S TRAVELS. 

" As thou takest it, as thou behavest," said the other: 
" now mingle among them as they mingle." He gave a sig- 
nal ; and the children left their postures, and again betook 
them to work or sport as before. 

"Are you at liberty," said Wilhelm then, "to explain 
this sight, which surprises me ? I easily perceive that these 
positions, these gestures, are salutations directed to you." 

"Just so," replied the overseer: " salutations which, at 
once, indicate in what degree of culture each of these boys 
is standing." 

" But can you explain to me the meaning of this grada- 
tion ? ' ' inquired Wilhelm ; ' ' for that there is one is clear 
enough." 

" This belongs to a higher quarter," said the other : "so 
much, however, I may tell you, that these ceremonies are not 
mere grimaces ; that, on the contrary, the import of them, 
not the highest, but still a directing, intelligible import, is 
communicated to the children ; while, at the same time, each 
is enjoined to retain and consider for himself whatever expla- 
nation it has been thought meet to give him : they are not 
allowed to talk of these things, either to strangers or among 
themselves ; and thus their instruction is modified in many 
ways. Besides, secrecy itself has many advantages ; for 
when you tell a man at once, and straightforward, the pur- 
pose of any object, he fancies there is nothing in it. Certain 
secrets, even if known to every one, men find that they must 
still reverence by concealment and silence ; for this works on 
modesty and good morals." 

"I understand you," answered Wilhelm: "why should 
not the principle which is so necessary in material things be 
applied to spiritual also? But perhaps in another point you 
can satisfy my curiosity. The great variety of shape and 
color in these children's clothes attracts my notice ; and yet 
I do not see all sorts of colors, but a few in all their shades, 
from the lightest to the deepest. At the same time I observe 
that by this no designation of degrees in age or merit can be 
intended ; for the oldest and the youngest boys may be alike, 
both in cut and color, while those of similar gestures are not 
similar in dress." 

"On this matter, also," said the other, "silence is pre- 
scribed to me ; but I am much mistaken, or you will not 
leave us without receiving all the information you desire." 

Our party continued following the trace of the chief, which 
they believed themselves to be upon. But now the strangers 



MEISTEU'S TRAVELS. 159 

could not fail to notice, with new surprise, that, the farther 
they advanced into the district, a vocal melody more and 
more frequently sounded towards them from the fields. 
Whatever the boys might be engaged with, whatever labor 
they were carrying on, they accompanied it with singing ; 
and it seemed as if the songs were specially adapted to their 
various sorts of occupation, and in similar cases everywhere 
the same. If there chanced to be several children in com- 
pany, they sang together in alternating parts. Towards 
g veiling appeared dancers likewise, whose steps were enliv- 
ened and directed by choruses. Felix struck in with them, 
not altogether unsuccessfully, from horseback, as he passed ; 
and Wilhelm felt gratified in this amusement, which gave new 
life to the scene. 

"Apparently," he said to his companion, "you devote 
considerable care to this branch of instruction : the accom- 
plishment, otherwise, could not be so widely diffused and so 
completely practised. " 

" We do," replied the other: "on our plan, song is the 
first step In education ; all the rest are connected with it, and 
attained by means of it. The simplest enjoyment, as well 
as the simplest instruction, we enliven and impress by song ; 
nay, even what religious and moral principles we lay before 
our children are communicated in the way of song. Other 
advantages for the excitement of activity spontaneously 
arise from this practice : for, in accustoming the children to 
write the tones they are to utter in musical characters, and, 
as occasion serves, again to seek these characters in the utter- 
ance of their own voice ; and, besides this, to subjoin the text 
below the notes, — they are forced to practise hand, ear, 
and eye at once, whereby they acquire the art of penmanship 
sooner than you would expect ; and as all this, in the long- 
run, is to be effected by copying precise measurement sand 
accurately settled numbers, they come to conceive the high 
value of mensuration and arithmetic much sooner than in 
any other way. Among all imaginable things, accordingly, 
we have selected music as the element of our teaching ; for 
level roads run out from music towards every side." 

Wilhelm endeavored to obtain still further information, 
and expressed his surprise at hearing no instrumental music. 
" This is, by no means, neglected here," said the other, 
" but practised in a peculiar district, one of the most pleasant 
valleys among the mountains : and there again we have ar- 
ranged it so that the different inetrumentsshali be taught in 



160 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

separate places. The discords of beginners, in particular, 
are banished into certain solitudes, where they can drive no 
one to despair ; for you will confess, that in well-regulated 
civil society there is scarcely a more melancholy suffering to 
be undergone than what is forced on us by the neighborhood 
of an incipient player on the flute or violin. 

" Our learners, out of a laudable desire to be troublesome 
to no one, go forth of their own accord, for a longer or a 
shorter time, into the wastes, and strive in their seclusion to 
attain the merit which shall again admit them into the in- 
habited world. Each of them, from time to time, is allowed 
to venture an attempt for admission : and the trial seldom 
fails of success ; for bashfulness and modesty in this, as in 
all other parts of our system, we strongly endeavor to main- 
tain and cherish. That your son has a good voice I am glad 
to observe : all the rest is managed with so much the greater 
ease." 

They had now reached a place where Felix was to stop and 
make trial of its arrangements, till a formal reception should 
be granted him. From a distance they had been saluted by 
a jocund sound of music : it was a game in which the boys 
were, for the present, amusing themselves in their hour of 
play. A general chorus mounted up ; each individual of a 
wide circle striking in at his time with a joyful, clear, firm 
tone, as the sign was given him by the overseer. The latter 
more than once took the singers by surprise, when, at a 
signal, he suspended the choral song, and called on any single 
boy, touching him with his rod, to catch by himself the ex- 
piring tone, and adapt to it a suitable song, fitted also to 
the spirit of what had preceded. Most part showed great 
dexterity : a few who failed in this feat willingly gave in their 
pledges without altogether being laughed at for their ill suc- 
cess. Felix was child enough to mix among them instantly, 
and in his new task he acquitted himself tolerably well. 
The first salutation was then enjoined on him : he directly 
laid his hands on his breast, looked upwards, and truly with 
so roguish a countenance that it was easy to observe no 
secret meaning had yet, in his mind, attached itself to this 
posture. 

The delightful spot, his kind reception, the merry play- 
mates, all pleased the boy so well that he felt no very deep 
sorrow as his father moved away : the departure of the pony 
was, perhaps, a heavier matter; but he yielded here also, 
on learning that in this circle it could not possibly be kept: 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 161 

and the overseer promised him, in compensation, that he 
should find another horse as smart and well broken at a time 
when he was not expecting it. 

As the chief, it appeared, was not to be come at, the over- 
seer turned to Wilhelm, and said, " I must now leave you, 
to pursue my occupations ; but first I will bring you to the 
Three, who preside over our sacred things. Your letter is 
addressed to them likewise, and they together represent the 
chief." Wilhelm could have wished to gain some previous 
knowledge of these sacred things ; but his companion an- 
swered, "The Three will, doubtless, in return for the con- 
fidence you show in leaving us your son, disclose to you, in 
their wisdom and fairness, what is most needful for you to 
learn. The visible objects of reverence, which I named 
sacred things, are collected in this separate circle ; are 
mixed with nothing, interfered with by nothing ; at cer- 
tain seasons of the year only are our pupils admitted here, 
to be taught in their various degrees of culture by historical 
and sensible means ; and in these short intervals they carry 
off a deep enough impression to suffice them for a time, dur- 
ing the performance of their other duties." 

Wilhelm had now reached the gate of a wooded vale, sur- 
rounded with high walls : on a certain sign the little door 
opened, and a man of earnest and imposing look received 
our traveller. The latter found himself in a large, beau- 
tifully umbrageous space, decked with the richest foliage, 
shaded with trees and bushes of all sorts ; while stately walls 
and magnificent buildings were discerned only in glimpses 
through this thick, natural boscage. A friendly reception 
from the Three, who by and by appeared, at last turned into 
a general conversation, the substance of which we now pre- 
sent in an abbreviated shape. 

" Since you intrust your son to us," said they, " it is fair 
that we admit you to a closer view of our procedure. Of 
what is external you have seen much that does not bear its 
meaning on its front. What part of this do you chiefly wish 
to have explained ? " 

" Dignified yet singular gestures of salutation I have 
noticed, the import of which I would gladly learn : with you, 
doubtless, the exterior has a reference to the interior, and 
inversely ; let me know what this reference is." 

"Well-formed, healthy children, ' replied the Three, 
"bring much into the world along with them: Nature has 
given to each whatever he requires for time and duration ; 

6— Goethe Vol 8 



162 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

to unfold this is our duty ; often it unfolds itself better of 
its own accord. One thing there is, however, which no child 
brings into the world with him ; and yet it is on this one thing 
that all depends for making man in every point a man. If 
you can discover it yourself, speak it out. ' ' Wilhelm thought 
a little while, then shook his head. 

The Three, after a suitable pause, exclaimed, " Mever- 
ence I" Wilhelm seemed to hesitate. " Reverence ! "cried 
they a second time. '* All want it, perhaps you yourself. 

" Three kinds of gestures you have seen ; and we inculcate 
a threefold reverence, which, when commingled and formed 
into one whole, attains its highest force and effect. The 
first is, reverence for what is above us. That posture, the 
arms crossed over the breast, the look turned joyfully to- 
wards heaven, that is what we have enjoined on young chil- 
dren ; requiring from them thereby a testimony that there is 
a God above, who images and reveals himself in parents, 
teachers, superiors. Then comes the second, reverence for 
what is under us. Those hands folded over the back, and, 
as it were, tied together ; that down- turned, smiling look, — 
announce that we are to regard the earth with attention and 
cheerfulness : from the bounty of the earth we are nourished ; 
the earth affords unutterable joys, but disproportionate sor- 
rows she also brings us. Should one of our children do 
himself external hurt, blamably or blamelessly ; should others 
hurt him accidentally or purposely ; should dead, involun- 
tary matter do him hurt, — then let him well consider it ; for 
such dangers will attend him all his days. But from this 
posture we delay not to free our pupil the instant we become 
convinced that the instruction connected with it has produced 
sufficient influence on him. Then, on the contrary, we bid 
him gather courage, and, turning to his comrades, range 
himself along with them. Now, at iast, he stands forth, 
frank and bold, not selfishly isolated : only in combination 
with his equals does he front the world. Further we have 
nothing to add." 

''I quite understand it," said Wilhelm. "Are not the 
mass of men so marred and stinted because they take pleas- 
ure only in the element of evil-wishing and evil-speaking? 
Whoever gives himself to this, soon comes to be indifferent 
towards God, contemptuous towards the world, spiteful 
towards his equals ; and the true, genuine, indispensable 
sentiment of self-estimation corrupts into self-conceit and 
presumption. Allow me, however," continued he, u to state 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 163 

one difficulty. You say that reverence is not natural to man : 
now, has not the reverence or fear of barbarous nations for 
violent convulsions of Nature, or other inexplicable, mysteri- 
ously foreboding occurrences, been heretofore regarded as 
the germ out of which a higher feeling, a purer sentiment, 
was by degrees to be developed? " 

*' Fear does accord with Nature," replied they, " but rev- 
erence does not. Men fear a known or unknown powerful 
being : the strong seeks to conquer it, the weak to avoid it ; 
both endeavor to get quit of it, and feel happy when, for a 
short season, they have put it aside, and their nature has, 
in some degree, regained freedom and independence. The 
natural man repeats this operation millions of times in the 
course of his life ; from fear he struggles to freedom ; from 
freedom he is driven back to fear, and so makes no advance- 
ment. To fear is easy, but grievous ; to reverence is diffi- 
cult, but satisfactory. Man does not willingly submit himself 
to reverence ; or, rather, he never so submits himself : it is a 
higher sense, which must be communicated to his nature ; 
which only, in some peculiarly favored individuals, unfolds 
itself spontaneously, who on this account, too, have of old 
been looked upon as saints and gods. Here lies the worth, 
here lies the business, of all true religions ; whereof there 
are, likewise, only three, according to the objects towards 
which they direct our devotion." 

The men paused : Wilhelm reflected for a time in silence ; 
but, feeling in himself no pretension to unfold the meaning 
of these strange words, he requested the sages to proceed 
with their exposition. They immediately complied. " No 
religion that grounds itself on fear," said they, " is regarded 
among us. With the reverence to which a man should give 
dominion in his mind, he can, in paying honor, keep his own 
honor: he is not disunited with himself, as in the former 
case. The religion which depends on reverence for what is 
above us we denominate the ethnic ; it is the religion of the 
nations, and the first happy deliverance from a degrading 
fear : all heathen religions, as we call them, are of this sort, 
whatsoever names they may bear. The second religion, 
which founds itself on reverence for what is around us, we 
denominate the philosophical ; for the philosopher stations 
himself in the middle, and must draw down to him all that is 
higher, and up to him all that is lower : and only in this 
medium condition does he merit the title of Wise. Here, as 
he surveys with clear sight his relation to his equals, and 



164 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

therefore to the whole human race, his relations likewise to 
all other earthly circumstances and arrangements, necessary 
or accidental, he alone, in a cosmic sense, lives in truth. 
But now we have to speak of the third religion, grounded 
on reverence for what is beneath us ; this we name the 
Christian, as in the Christian religion such a temper is with 
most distinctness manifested : it is a last step to which man- 
kind were fitted and destined to attain. But what a task was 
it, not only to be patient with the earth, and let it lie beneath 
us, we appealing to a higher birthplace, but also to recognize 
humility and poverty, mockery and despite, disgrace and 
wretchedness, suffering and death, — to recognize these things 
as divine, — nay, even on sin and crime to look, not as hin- 
derances, but to honor and love them as furtherances of 
what is holy. Of this, indeed, we find some traces in all 
ages : but the trace is not the goal ; and, this being now 
attained, the human species cannot retrograde : and we may 
say, that the Christian religion, having once appeared, can- 
not again vanish ; having once assumed its divine shape, can 
be subject to no dissolution." 

"To which of these religions do you specially adhere?" 
inquired Wilhelm. 

" To all the three/' replied they ; " for in their union they 
produce what may properly be called the true religion. Out 
of those three reyerences springs the highest reverence, — 
reverence for one's self ; and those again unfold themselves 
from this : so that man attains the highest elevation of which 
he is capable, that of being justified in reckoning himself the 
best that God and Nature have produced, — nay, of being 
able to continue on this lofty eminence, without being again, 
by self-conceit and presumption, drawn down from it into 
the vulgar level." 

"Such a confession of faith, developed in this manner, 
does not repulse me," answered Wilhelm: " it agrees with 
much that one hears now and then in the course of life ; only 
you unite what others separate." 

To this they replied, " Our confession has already been 
adopted, though unconsciously, by a great part of the 
world." 

" How, then, and where? " said Wilhelm. 

"In the creed!" exclaimed they; "for the first article 
is ethnic, and belongs to all nations ; the second, Christian, 
for those struggling with affliction and glorified in affliction ; 
the third, in fine, teaches an inspired communion of saints, 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 165 

that is, of men in the highest degree good and wise. And 
should not, therefore, the Three Divine Persons, under the 
similitudes and names of which these threefold doctrines and 
commands are promulgated, justly be considered as in the 
highest sense One ? ' ' 

" I thank you," said Wilhelm, " for having pleased to lay 
all this before me in such clearness and combination, as be- 
fore a grown-up person, to whom your three modes of feeling 
are not altogether foreign. And now, when I reflect that 
you communicate this high doctrine to your children, in the 
first place as a sensible sign, then with some symbolical 
accompaniment attached to it, and at last unfold to them its 
deepest meaning, I cannot but warmly approve of your 
method.' ' 

"Right," answered they; "but now we must show you 
more, and so convince you the better that your son is in no 
bad hands. This, however, may remain for the morrow : 
rest and refresh } 7 ourself, that you may attend us in the 
morning, as a man satisfied and unimpeded, into the interior 
of our sanctuary." 



CHAPTER XI. 

At the hand of the eldest, our friend now proceeded 
through a stately portal into a round, or rather octagonal, 
hall, so richly decked with pictures, that it struck him with 
istonishment as he entered. All this, he easily conceived, 
nust have a significant import ; though at the moment he 
^>aw not s? clearly what it was. While about to question 
his guide on this subject, the latter invited him to step for- 
ward into a gallery, open on the one side, and stretching 
round a spacious, gay, flowery garden. The wall, however, 
not the flowers, attracted the eyes of the stranger : it was 
covered with paintings, and Wilhelm could not walk far 
without observing that the Sacred Books of the Israelites 
had furnished the materials for these figures. 

"It is here," said the eldest, "that we teach our first 
religion, — the religion which, for the sake of brevity, I 
named the ethnic. The spirit of it is to be sought for in 
the history of the world ; its outward form, in the events of 



166 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

that history. Only in the return of similar destinies on whole 
nations can it properly be apprehended." 

u I observe," said Wilhelm, " 3-011 have done the Israelites 
the honor to select their history as the groundwork of this 
delineation ; or, rather, you have made it the leading object 
there." 

"As you see," replied the eldest: " for you will remark, 
that on the socles and friezes we have introduced another 
series of transactions and occurrences, not so much of a syn- 
chronistic as of a synchronistic kind ; since, among all na- 
tions, we discover records of a similar import, and grounded 
on the same facts. Thus you perceive here, while in the 
main field of the picture, Abraham receives a visit from his 
gods in the form of fair youths, Apollo, among the herds- 
men of Admetus, is painted above on the frieze. From 
which we may learn, that the gods, when they appear to 
men, are commonly unrecognized of them." 

The friends walked on. Wilhelm, for the most part, met 
with well-known objects ; but they were here exhibited in a 
livelier and more expressive manner than he had been used 
to see them. On some few matters he requested explanation, 
and at last could not help returning to his former question, 
Why the Israelitish history had been chosen in preference to 
all others? 

The eldest answered, "Among all heathen religions, — for 
such also is the Israelitish, — this has the most distinguished 
advantages, of which I shall mention onty a few. At the 
ethnic judgment-seat, at the judgment-seat of the God of 
nations, it is not asked, Whether this is the best, the most 
excellent nation, but whether it lasts, whether it has contin- 
ued. The Israelitish people never was good for much, as its 
own leaders, judges, rulers, prophets, have a thousand times 
reproachfully declared : it possesses few virtues, and most 
of the faults of other nations ; but in cohesion, steadfast- 
ness, valor, and, when all this would not serve, in obstinate 
toughness, it has no match. It is the most perseverant na- 
tion in the world : it is, it was, and will be, to glorify the 
name of Jehovah through all ages. We have set it up, 
therefore, as the pattern-figure, — as the main figure, to 
which the others only serve as a frame." 

" It becomes not me to dispute with you," said Wilhelm, 
" since you have instruction to impart. Open to me, there- 
fore, the other advantages of this people, or, rather, of its 
history, of its religion." 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 167 

" One chief advantage,' ' said the other, " is its excellent 
collection of Sacred Books. These stand so happily com- 
bined together, that, even out of the most diverse elements, 
the feeling of a whole still rises before us. They are com- 
plete enough to satisfy, fragmentary enough to excite, bar- 
barous enough to rouse, tender enough to appease ; and for 
how many other contradicting merits might not these books, 
might not this one book, be praised ! " 

The series of main figures, as well as their relations to the 
smaller which above and below accompanied them, gave the 
guest so much to think of, that he scarcely heard the perti- 
nent remarks of his guide, who, by what he said, seemed 
desirous rather to divert our friend's attention than to fix it 
on the paintings. Once, however, the old man said, on some 
occasion, "Another advantage of the Israelitish religion I 
must here mention : it has not embodied its God in any form, 
and so has left us at liberty to represent him in a worthy 
human shape, and likewise, by way of contrast, to designate 
idolatry by forms of beasts and monsters." 

Our friend had now, in his short wandering through this 
hall, again brought the spirit of universal history before his 
mind : in regard to the events, he had not failed to meet with 
something new. So likewise, by the simultaneous present- 
ment of the pictures, by the reflections of his guide, many 
new views had risen on him ; and lie could not but rejoice in 
thinking that his Felix was, by so dignified a visible represen- 
tation, to seize and appropriate for his whole life those great, 
significant, and exemplary events, as if they had actually 
been present, and transacted beside him. He came at length 
to regard the exhibition altogether with the eyes of the child, 
and in this point of view it perfectly contented him. Thus 
wandering on, they had now reached the gloomy and per- 
plexed periods of the history, the destruction of the city 
and the temple, the murder, exile, slavery of whole masses 
of this stiff-necked people. Its subsequent fortunes were 
delineated in a cunning allegorical way : a real historical de- 
lineation of them would have lain without the limits of true art. 

At this point the gallery abruptly terminated in a closed 
door, and Wilhelm was surprised to see himself already at 
the end. " In your historical series," said he, " I find a 
chasm. You have destroyed the Temple of Jerusalem, and 
dispensed the people ; yet you have not introduced the divine 
Man who taught there shortly before, to whom, shortly be- 
fore, they would give no ear." 



168 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

11 To have done this, as you require it, would have been an 
error. The life of that divine Man, whom you allude to, 
stands in no connection with the general history of the world 
in his time. It was a private life, his teaching was a teach- 
ing for individuals. What has publicly befallen vast masses 
of people, and the minor parts which compose them, belongs 
to the general history of the world, to the general religion of 
the world, — the religion we have named the first. What in- 
wardly befalls individuals belongs to the second religion, the 
philosophical : such a religion was it that Christ taught and 
practised, so long as he went about on earth. For this 
reason the external here closes, and I now open to you the 
internal." 

A door went back ; and they entered a similar gallery, 
where Wilhelm soon recognized a corresponding series of 
pictures from the New Testament. They seemed as if by 
another hand than the first : all was softer, — forms, move- 
ments, accompaniments, light, and coloring. 

" Here," said the guide, after they had looked over a few 
pictures, "you behold neither actions nor events, but mir- 
acles and similitudes. There is here a new world, a new ex- 
terior, different from the former ; and an interior, which was 
altogether wanting there. By miracles and similitudes a new 
world is opened up. Those make the common extraordinary, 
these the extraordinary common." 

"You will have the goodness," said Wilhelm, "to ex- 
plain these few words more minutely ; for, by my own light, 
I cannot." 

" They have a natural meaning," said the other, " though 
a deep one. Examples will bring it out most easily and 
soonest. There is nothing more common and customary 
than eating and drinking ; but it is extraordinary to trans- 
form a drink into another of more noble sort, to multiply a 
portion of food that it suffice a multitude. Nothing is more 
common than sickness and corporeal diseases ; but to re- 
move, to mitigate these by spiritual or spiritual-like means, 
is extraordinary ; and even in this lies the wonder of the 
miracle, that the common and the extraordinary, the possible 
and the impossible, become one. With the similitude again, 
with the parable, the converse is the case ; here it is the 
sense, the view, the idea, that forms the high, the unattain- 
able, the extraordinary. When this embodies itself into 
common, customary, comprehensible figure, so that it meets 
ns as if alive, present, actual, so that we can seize it, ap- 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 169 

propriate, retain it, live with it as with our equal, this is a 
second sort of miracle, and is justly placed beside the first 
sort, — nay, perhaps preferred to it. Here a living doctrine 
is pronounced, a doctrine which can cause no argument : it 
is not an opinion about what is right and wrong ; it is right 
and wrong themselves, and indisputably. " 

This part of the gallery was shorter ; indeed, it formed 
but the fourth part of the circuit enclosing the interior court. 
Yet, if in the former part you merely walked along, you here 
liked to linger, } r ou here walked to and fro. The objects 
were not so striking, not so varied ; yet they invited you the 
more to penetrate their deep, still meaning. Our two friends, 
accordingly, turned round at the end of the space ; Wilhelm 
at the same time expressing some surprise that these delinea- 
tions went no farther than the Supper, than the scene where 
the Master and his disciples part. He inquired for the re- 
maining portion of the history. 

"In all sorts of instruction,'' said the eldest, "in all 
sorts of communication, we are fond of separating whatever 
it is possible to separate ; for by this means alone can the 
notion of importance and peculiar significance arise in the 
young mind. Actual experience of itself mingles and mixes 
all things together : here, accordingly, we have entirely dis- 
joined that sublime Man's life from its termination. In life, 
he appears as a true philosopher, — let not the expression 
stagger you, — as a wise man in the highest sense. He 
stands firm to his point ; he goes on his way inflexibly ; and 
while he exalts the lower to himself, while he makes the ig- 
norant, the poor, the sick, partakers of his wisdom, of his 
riches, of his strength, he, on the other hand, in no wise 
conceals his divine origin ; he dares to equal himself with 
God, — nay, to declare that he himself is God. In this man- 
ner is he wont, from youth upwards, to astound his familiar 
friends ; of these he gains a part to his own cause, irritates 
the rest against him, and shows to all men, who are aiming 
at a certain elevation in doctrine and life, what they have to 
look for from the world. And thus, for the noble portion of 
mankind, his walk and conversation are even more instruc- 
tive and profitable than his death ; for to those trials every 
one is called, to this trial but a few. Now, omitting all that 
results from this consideration, do but look at the touch- 
ing scene of the Last Supper. Here the wise Man, as it 
ever is, leaves those that are his own utterly orphaned behind 
him ; and, while he is careful for the good, he feeds along 



170 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

with them a traitor by whom he and the better are to be de- 
stroyed." 

With these words the eldest opened a door, and Wil- 
helm faltered in surprise as he found himself again in 
the first hall at the entrance. They had in the mean 
while, as he now saw, passed round the whole circuit 
of the court. "I hoped," said Wilhelm, "you were 
leading me to the conclusion ; and you take me back to 
the beginning." 

"For the present," said the eldest, "I can show you 
nothing further : more we do not lay before our pupils, more 
we do not explain to them, than what you have now gone 
through. All that is external, worldly, universal, we com- 
municate to each from youth upwards ; what is more particu- 
larly spiritual, and conversant with the heart, to those only 
who grow up with some thoughtf ulness of temper ; and the 
rest, which is opened only once a year, cannot be imparted 
save to those whom we are sending forth as finished. That 
last religion which arises from the reverence of what is be- 
neath us ; that veneration of the contradictory, the hated, 
the avoided, — we give each of our pupils in small portions, 
by way of outfit, along with him into the world, merely that 
he may know where more is to be had should such a want 
spring up within him. I invite you to return hither at the 
end of a year, to visit our general festival, and see how far 
your son is advanced : then shall you be admitted into the 
sanctuaiy of sorrow." 

" Permit me one question," said Wilhelm : "as you have 
get up the life of this divine Man for a pattern and example, 
have you likewise selected his sufferings, his death, as a 
model of exalted patience ? ' ' 

" Undoubtedly we have," replied the eldest. " Of this 
we make no secret ; but we draw a veil over those sufferings, 
even because we reverence them so highly. We hold it a 
damnable audacity to bring forth that torturing cross and the 
Holy One who suffers on it, or to expose them to the light of 
the sun, which hid its face when a reckless world forced such 
a sight on it, to take these mysterious secrets, in which the 
divine depth of sorrow lies hid, and play with them, fondle 
them, trick them out, and rest not till the most reverend of 
all solemnities appears vulgar and paltry. Let so much, for 
the present, suffice to put your mind at peace respecting your 
son, and to convince you, that, on meeting him again, you 
will find him trained, more or less, in one department or 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 171 

another, but at least in a proper way, and, at all events, not 
wavering, perplexed, and unstable." 

Wilhelm still lingered, looking at the pictures in this en- 
trance-hall, and wishing to get explanation of their meaning. 
" This, too," said the eldest, " we must still owe you for a 
twelvemonth. The instruction which, in the interim, we give 
the children, no stranger is allowed to witness : then, how- 
ever, come to us ; and you will hear what our best speakers 
think it serviceable to make public on these matters." 

Shortly after this conversation a knocking was heard at 
the little gate. The overseer of last night announced him- 
self ; he had brought out Wilhelm 's horse : and so our 
friend took leave of the Three, who, as he set out, consigned 
him to the overseer with these words : "This man is now 
numbered among the trusted, and thou understandest what 
thou hast to tell him in answer to his questions ; for, doubt- 
less, he still wishes to be informed on much that he has seen 
and heard while here : purpose and circumstance are known 
to thee." 

Wilhelm had, in fact, some more questions on his mind ; 
and these he erelong put into words. As they rode along they 
were saluted by the children as on the preceding evening ; 
but to-day, though rarely, he now and then observed a boy 
who did not pause in his work to salute the overseer, but 
let him pass unheeded. Wilhelm asked the cause of this, 
and what such an exception meant. His companion an- 
swered, "It is full of meaning, for it is the highest pun- 
ishment we inflict on our pupils : they are declared unworthy 
to show reverence, and obliged to exhibit themselves as rude 
and uncultivated natures ; but they do their utmost to get 
free of this situation, and in general adapt themselves with 
great rapidity to any duty. Should a young creature, on the 
other hand, obdurately make no attempt at return and 
amendment, he is then sent back to his parents with a brief 
but pointed statement of his case. Whoever cannot suit 
himself to the regulations must leave the district where they 
are in force." 

Another circumstance excited Wilhelm's curiosity to-day 
as it had done yesterday, — the variety of color and shape 
apparent in the dress of the pupils. Hereby no gradation 
could be indicated ; for children who saluted differently were 
sometimes clothed alike, and others agreeing in salutation 
differed in apparel. Wilhelm inquired the reason of this 
seeming contradiction. " It will be explained," said the 



172 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

other, " when I tell you, that, by this means, we endeavor to 
find out the children's several characters. "With all our gen- 
eral strictness and regularity, we allow in this point a certain 
latitude of choice. Within the limits of our own stores of 
cloths and garnitures the pupils are permitted to select what 
color they please ; and so, likewise, within moderate limits, 
in regard to shape and cut. Their procedure in these mat- 
ters we accurately note ; for, by the color, we discover their 
turn of thinking ; by the cut, their turn of acting. How- 
ever, a decisive judgment in this is rendered difficult by one 
peculiar property of human nature, — by the tendency to 
imitate, the inclination to unite with something. It is very 
seldom that a pupil fancies any dress that has not been 
already there : for most part, they select something known, 
something which they see before their eyes. Yet this also 
we find worth observing : by such external circumstances 
they declare themselves of one party or another ; they unite 
with this or that ; and thus some general features of their 
characters are indicated ; we perceive whither each tends, 
what example he follows. 

"We have had cases where the dispositions of our chil- 
dren verged to generality, where one fashion threatened to 
extend over all, and any deviation from it to dwindle into 
the state of exception. Such a turn of matters we endeavor 
softly to stop : we let our stores run out ; this and that sort 
of stuff, this and that sort of decoration, is no longer to be 
had : we introduce something new and attractive ; by bright 
colors, and short, smart shape, we allure the lively ; by grave 
shadings, by commodious, many-folded make, the thought- 
ful, — and tnus, by degrees, restore the equilibrium. 

" For to uniform we are altogether disinclined : it conceals 
the character, and, more than any other species of distor- 
tion, withdraws the peculiarities of children from the eye of 
their superiors." 

Amid this and other conversation, Wilhelm reached the 
border of the province, and this at the point where, by the 
direction of his antiquarian friend, he was to leave it, to pur- 
sue his next special object. 

At parting, it was now settled with the overseer, that, after 
the space of a twelvemonth, Wilhelm should return, when the 
grand triennial festival was to be celebrated, on which occa- 
sion all the parents were invited, and finished pupils were 
sent forth into the tasks of chanceful life. Then, too, so he 
was informed, he might visit at his pleasure all the other 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 173 

districts, where, on peculiar principles, each branch of edu- 
cation was communicated, and reduced to practice, in com- 
plete isolation and with every furtherance. 



CHAPTER XIL 

Hersilia to Wilhelm. 



My valued, and, to speak it plainly, dear friend, you are 
wrong, and yet, as acting on your own conviction, not wrong 
either. So the nut-brown maid is found, then, — found, 
seen, spoken to, known, and acknowledged ! And you tell 
us further, that it is impossible to wish this strange person, 
in her own way, any happier condition, or, in her present 
one, to be of any real advantage to her. 

And now you make it a point of conscience not to tell us 
where that wondrous being lives. This you may settle with 
your own conscience, but to us it is unconscionable. You 
think to calm Lenardo by assuring him that she is well. He 
had said, almost promised, that he would content himself 
with this ; but what will not the passionate promise for 
others and themselves ! Know, then, that the matter is not 
in the least concluded as it yet stands. She is happy, you 
tell us, — happy by her own activity and merit : but the youth 
would like to learn the How, the When, and the Where ; 
and, what is worse than this, his sisters, too, would like to 
learn. Half a year is gone since your departure: till the 
end of another half-year we cannot hope to see you. Could 
not you, like a shrewd and knowing man, contrive to play 
your eternal Bouge-et-Noir in our neighborhood? I have 
seen people that could make the knight skip over all the 
chess-board without ever lighting twice on one spot. You 
should learn this feat : your friends would not have to want 
you so long. 

But, to set my good will to you in the clearest light, I 
now tell you in confidence, that there are two most enchant- 
ing creatures on the road : whence I say not, nor whither ; 
described they cannot be, and no eulogy will do them 
justice. A younger and an elder lady, between whom it 
always grieves one to make choice, — the former so lovely, 



174 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

that all must wish to be loved by her ; the latter so attrac- 
tive, that you must wish to live beside her, though she did 
not love you. I could like, with all my heart, to see you 
hemmed in for three days between these two splendors : 
on the morning of the fourth, your rigorous vow would 
stand you in excellent stead. 

By way of foretaste I send you a story, which, in some 
degree, refers to them : what of it is true or fictitious you 
can try to learn from themselves. 



THE MAN OF FIFTY. 

The major came riding into the court of the mansion \ 
and Hilaria, his niece, was already standing without, to 
receive him at the bottom of the stairs which led up to the 
apartments. Scarcely could he recognize her ; for she had 
grown, both in stature and beauty. She flew to meet 
him : he pressed her to his breast with the feeling of a 
father. 

To the baroness, his sister, he was likewise welcome ; 
and, as Hilaria hastily retired to prepare breakfast, the 
major said with a joyful air, ' i For this time I can come to 
the point at once, and say that our business is finished. 
Our brother, the chief marshal, has at last convinced him- 
self that he can neither manage farmers nor stewards. In 
his lifetime he makes over the estates to us and our chil- 
dren : the annuity he bargains for is high, indeed, but we 
can still pay it ; we gain something for the present, and 
for the future all. This new arrangement is to be completed 
forthwith. And, as I very soon expect my discharge, I can 
again look forward to an active life, which may secure 
decided advantages to us and ours. We shall calmly see 
our children growing up beside us ; and it will depend on 
lis, on them, to hasten their union/ ' 

"All this were well," said the baroness, "had not I a 
secret to inform thee of, which I myself discovered first. 
Hilaria' s heart is no longer free : on her side thy son has 
little or nothing to hope for." 

"What say est thou?" cried the major. "Is it possi- 
ble? While we have been taking all pains to settle eco- 
nomical concerns, does inclination play us such a trick? 
Tell me, love, quick, tell me, who is it that has fettered 
Hilaria's heart? Or is it, then, so bad as this? Is it not, 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 175 

perhaps, some transient impression we may hope to efface 
again? " 

"Thou must think and guess a little first, " replied the 
baroness, and thereby heightened his impatience. It had 
mounted to the utmost pitch, when the entrance of Hilaria, 
with the servants bringing in breakfast, put a negative on 
any quick solution of the riddle. 

The major himself thought he saw the fair girl with 
other eyes than a little while before. He almost felt as if 
jealous of the happy man whose image had been able to 
imprint itself on a soul so lovely. The breakfast he could 
not relish ; and he noticed not that all was ordered as he 
liked to have it, and as he had used to wish and require it. 

In this silence and stagnation Hilaria herself almost lost 
her liveliness. The mother felt embarrassed, and led her 
daughter to the harpsichord ; but Hilaria' s sprightly and 
expressive playing scarcely extorted any approbation from 
the major. He wished the breakfast and the lovely girl 
fairly out of the way ; and the baroness was at last obliged 
to resolve on breaking up, and proposed to her brother a 
walk in the garden. 

No sooner were they by themselves, than the major press- 
ingly repeated his question, to which, after a pause, his 
sister answered, smiling, " If thou wouldst find the happy 
man whom she loves, thou hast not far to go : he is quite 
at hand; she loves thee!" 

The major stopped in astonishment, then cried, " It were 
a most unseasonable jest to trick me into such a thought, 
which, if true, would make me so embarrassed and unhappy. 
For, though I need time to recover from my amazement, I 
see at one glance how grievously our circumstances would 
be disturbed by so unlooked-for an accident. The only 
thing that comforts me, is my persuasion that attachments 
of this sort are apparent merely, that a self-deception lurks 
behind them, and that a good, true soul will undoubtedly 
return from such mistakes, either by its own strength, or 
at least by a little help from judicious friends." 

"I am not of that opinion," said the baroness: " by 
all the symptoms, Hilaria' s present feeling is a very serious 
one." 

11 A thing so unnatural I should not have expected from 
so natural a character," replied the major. 

" So unnatural it is not, after all," said his sister. "I 
myself recollect having, in my own youth, an attachment 



176 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

to a man still older than thou. Thou art fifty, — not so very 
great an age for a German, if, perhaps, other livelier nations 
do fail sooner." 

u But how dost thou support thy conjecture?" said tbe 
major. 

"It is no conjecture, it is certainty. The details thou 
shalt learn by and by." 

Hilaria joined them ; and the major felt himself, against 
his will, a second time altered. Her presence seemed to 
him still dearer and more precious than before, her manner 
more affectionate and tender : already he began to put some 
faith in his sister's statement. The feeling was highly 
delightful, though he neither would permit nor confess this 
to his mind. Hilaria was, in truth, peculiarly interesting: 
her manner blended in closest union a soft shyness as 
towards a lover, and a trustful frankness as towards an 
uncle ; for she really, and with her whole soul, loved him. 
The garden lay in all the pomp of spring ; and the major, 
who saw so many old trees again putting on their vesture, 
might also believe in the returning of his own spring. And 
who would not have been tempted to it, at the side of this 
most lovely maiden. 

So passed the day with them ; the various household 
epochs were gone through in high cheerfulness : in the 
evening, after supper, Hilaria returned to her harpischord; 
the major listened with other ears than in the morning : 
one melody winded into another, one song produced a sec- 
ond ; and scarcely could midnight separate the little party. 

On retiring to his room, the major found every thing 
arranged to suit his old habitual conveniences : some copper- 
plates, even, which he liked to look at, had been shifted 
from other apartments ; and, his eyes being at last opened, 
he saw himself attended to and flattered in the most minute 
particulars. 

A few hours' sleep sufficed on this occasion : his buoyant 
spirits aroused him early. But now he soon found occasion 
to observe that a new order of things carries many incon- 
veniences along with it. His old groom, who also dis- 
charged the functions of lackey and valet, he had not once 
reproved during many years, for all went its usual course 
in the most rigid order ; the horses were dressed and the 
clothes brushed at the proper moment : but to-day the mas- 
ter had risen earlier, and nothing suited as it used to do. 

Erelong a new circumstance combined with this to ruffle 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 177 

him still further. At other times all had been right, as his 
servant had prepared it for him : now, however, on advan- 
cing to the glass, he found himself not at all as he wished to 
be. Some gra} T hairs he could not deny, and of wrinkles 
also there appears to have been a trace or two. He wiped 
and powdered more than usual, and was fain at last to 
let matters stand as they could. Then it seemed there were 
still creases in his coat, and still dust on his boots. The 
old groom knew not what to make of this, and was amazed 
to see so altered a master before him. 

In spite of all these hinderances, the major got down to the 
garden in good time. Hilaria, whom he hoped to find there, 
he actually found. She brought him a nosegay ; and he had 
not the heart to kiss her as usual, and press her to his breast. 
He felt himself in the most delightful embarrassment, and 
yielded to his feelings without reflecting whither they might 
carry him. 

The baroness soon joined them and, directing her brother 
to a note which had just been brought her by a special mes- 
senger, she cried, " Thou wilt not guess whom this announces 
to us! " 

"Tell us at once, then/' said the major; and it now 
appeared that an old theatrical friend was travelling by a 
road not far off, and purposing to call for a moment. " I 
am anxious to see him again," said the major: "he is no 
chicken now, and I hear he still plays young parts." 

"He must be ten years older than thou," replied the 
baroness. 

"He must," said the major, "from all that I remem- 
ber." 

They had not waited long, when a lively, handsome, cour- 
teous man stepped forward to them. Yet the friends soon 
recognized each other, and recollections of all sorts enliv- 
ened the conversation. They proceeded to questions, to 
answers, to narratives : they mutually made known their 
present situations, and in a short time felt as if they had 
never been separated. 

Secret history informs us that this person had, in former 
days, being then a very elegant and graceful youth, the good 
or bad fortune to attract the favor of a lady of rank ; that, 
by this means, he had come into perplexity and danger, out 
of which the major, at the very moment when the saddest 
fate seemed impending, had happily delivered him. From 
that hour he continued grateful to the brother as well as to 



178 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

the sister ; for it was she that, by timeful warning, had ori- 
ginated their precautions. 

For a while before dinner the men were left alone. Not 
without surprise, nay, in some measure with amazement, had 
the major viewed, as a whole and in detail, the exterior 
condition of his old friend. He seemed not in the smallest 
altered, and it was not to be wondered at that he could still 
appear on the stage as an actor of youthful parts. " Thou 
iuspectest me more strictly than is fair," said he at last to 
the major : " I fear thou findest the difference between this 
and by-gone times but too great." 

44 Not at all," replied the major: "on the contrary, it 
fills me with astonishment to find thy look fresher and 
younger than mine ; though I know thou wert a firm-set man 
at the time when I, with the boldness of a callow desperado, 
stood by thee in certain straits." 

44 It is thy own fault," replied the other : "it is the fault 
of all like thee ; and, though you are not to be loudly cen- 
sured for it, 3 T ou are still to be blamed. You think only of 
the needful : you wish to be, not to seem. This is very well 
so long as one is any thing. But when, at last, being comes 
to recommend itself by seeming, and this seeming is found to 
be even more transient than the being, then every one of 
you discovers that he should not have done amiss, if, in his 
care for what was inward, he had not entirely neglected what 
was outward." 

44 Thou art right," replied the major, and could scarcely 
suppress a sigh. 

44 Perhaps not altogether right," said the aged youth; 
44 for though in my trade it were unpardonable if one did 
not try to parget up the outward man as long as possible, 
you people need to think of other things, which are more 
important and profitable." 

44 Yet there are occasions," said the major, 44 when a man 
feels fresh internally, and could wish, with all his heart, that 
he were fresh externally too." 

As the stranger could not have the slightest suspicion of 
the major's real state of mind, he took these words in a 
soldierly sense, and copiously explained how much depended 
on externals in the art military, and how the officer who had 
so much attention to bestow on dress might apply a little 
also to skin and hail. 

44 For example," continued he, 44 it is inexcusable that 
your temples are already gray, that wrinkles are here and 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 179 

there gathering together, and that your crown threatens to 
grow bald. Now look at me, old fellow as I am ! See how 
I have held out ! And all this without witchcraft, and with 
far less pains and care than others take, day after day, in 
spoiling, or at least wearying, themselves." 

The major found this accidental conversation too precious 
an affair to think of ending it soon, but he went to work 
softly and with precaution towards even an old acquaint- 
ance. "This opportunity, alas! I have lost," cried he; 
' ' and it is past recalling now : I must even content myself 
as I am, and you will not think worse of me on that ac- 
count." 

"Lost it is not," said the other, "were not you grave 
gentlemen so stiff and stubborn, did you not directly call 
one vain if he thinks about his person, and cast away from 
you the happiness of being in pleasant company, and pleas- 
ing there yourselves." 

"If it is not magic," smiled the major, " that you people 
use for keeping yourselves young, it is, at all events, a 
secret : or, at least, you have arcana, such as one often sees 
bepraised in newspapers ; and from these you pick out the 
best." 

"Joke or earnest," said the other, "thou hast spoken 
truth. Among the many things that have been tried for 
giving some repair to the exterior, which often fails far 
sooner than the interior, there are, in fact, certain invaluable 
recipes, simple as well as compound ; which, as imparted to 
me by brethren of the craft, purchased for ready money, or 
hit upon by chance, I have proved, and found effectual. By 
these I now hold fast and persevere, yet without abandoning 
my further researches. So much I may tell thee, and with- 
out exaggeration : a dressing-box I carry with me beyond all 
price ! A box whose influences I could like to try on thee, if 
we chanced any time to be a fortnight together." 

The thought that such a thing was possible, and that this 
possibility was held out to him so accidentally at the very 
moment of need, enlivened the spirit of the major to such a 
degree that he actually appeared much fresher and brisker 
already : at table, excited by the hope of bringing head and 
face into harmony with his heart, and by eagerness to get 
acquainted with the methods of doing so, he was quite 
another man ; he met Hilaria's graceful attentions with alac- 
rity of soul, and even looked at her with a certain confidence, 
which, in the morning, he was far from feeling. 



180 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

If the dramatic stranger had contrived, by many recollec- 
tions, stories, and happy hits, to keep up the cheerful humor 
once excited, he so much the more alarmed the major, on 
signifying, when the cloth was removed, that he must now 
think of setting forth, and continuing his journey. By every 
scheme in his power the major strove to facilitate his friend's 
stay, at least for the night ; he pressingly engaged to have 
horses and relays in readiness next morning : in a word, the 
healing toilet was absolutely not to get out of the premises, 
till once he had obtained more light on its contents and use. 

The major saw very well that here no time must be lost : 
he accordingly endeavored, soon after dinner, to take his old 
favorite aside and speak with him in private. Not having 
the heart to proceed directly to the point, he steered towards 
it from afar off, and, taking up the former conversation, sig- 
nified that he, for his part, would willingly bestow more 
care on his exterior, were it not that people, the moment 
they observed a man making such an attempt, marked him 
down for vain, and so deducted from him, in regard to moral 
esteem, what they felt obliged to yield him in regard to 
sensible. 

4 4 Do not vex me with such phrases ! ' ' said his friend : 
44 these are words to which society has got accustomed with- 
out attaching any meaning to them, or, if we take it up 
more strictly, by which it indicates its unfriendly and spiteful 
nature. If thou consider it rightly, what, after all, is this 
same vanity they make so much ado about? Every man 
should feel some pleasure in himself, and happy he who feels 
it. But, if he does feel it, how can he help letting others 
notice it? How shall he hide, in the midst of life, that it 
gives him joy to be alive? If good society, and I mean this 
exclusively here, only blamed such indications when they 
became too violent ; when the joy of one man over his exist- 
ence hindered others to have joy and to show it over theirs, — 
it were good and well ; and from this excess the censure has, 
in fact, originally sprung. But what are we to make of that 
strange, prim, abnegating rigor against a thing which can- 
not be avoided? Why should not a display of feeling on 
the part of others be considered innocent and tolerable, 
which, more or less, we from time to time allow ourselves? 
For it is the pleasure one has in himself, the desire to com- 
municate this consciousness of his to others, that makes a 
man agreeable, — the feeling of his own grace that makes him 
graceful. Would to Heaven all men were vain ! that is, were 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 181 

vain with clear perception, with moderation, and in a proper 
sense : we should then, in the cultivated world, have happy 
times of it. Women, it is told us, are vain from the very 
cradle ; yet does it not become them, do they not please us 
the more ? How can a youth form himself if he is not vain ? 
An empty, hollow nature will, by this means, at least con- 
trive to give itself an outward show ; and a proper man 
will soon train himself from the outside inwards. As to my 
own share, I have reason to consider myself, in this point, a 
most happy man : for my trade justifies me in being vain ; 
and, the vainer I am, the more satisfaction I give. I am 
praised when others are blamed, and have still, in this very 
way, the happiness and the right to gratify and charm the 
public at an age when others are constrained to retire from 
the scene, or linger on it only with disgrace." 

The major heard with no great joy the issue of these reflec- 
tions. The little word vanity, as he pronounced it, had been 
meant to serve as a transition for enabling him to introduce, 
with some propriety, the statement of his own wish. But 
now he was afraid, if their dialogue proceeded thus, he 
should be led still farther from his aim : so he hastened to 
the point directly. 

"For my own part," said he, " I should by no means 
disincline to enlist under thy flag, since thou still holdest it 
to be in time, and thinkest I might }- et in some degree make 
up for what is lost. Impart to me somewhat of thy tinctures, 
pomades, and balsams ; and I will make a trial of them." 

" Imparting," said the other, " is a harder task than you 
suppose. Here, for example, it were still to small purpose 
that I poured thee out some liquors from my vials, and left 
the half of the best ingredients in my toilet : the appliance 
is the hardest. You cannot, on the instant, appropriate what 
is given you. How this and that suit together ; under what 
circumstances, in what sequence, things are to be used, — all 
this requires practice and study, — nay, study and practice 
themselves will scarcely profit, if one bring not to the busi- 
ness a natural genius for it." 

" Thou art now, it seems, for drawing back," said the 
major. "Thou raisest difficulties when I would have thy 
truly somewhat fabulous assertions rendered certain. Thou 
hast no mind to let me try thy words by the test of action." 

" By such banterings, my friend," replied the other, "thou 
wouldst not prevail on me to gratify thy wish, if it were not 
that I entertain such affection for thee, and, indeed, first made 



182 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

the proposal myself. Besides, if we consider it, man has 
quite a peculiar pleasure in making proselytes ; in bringing 
what he values in himself into view also, without himself, on 
others ; causing others to enjoy what he enjoys ; finding in 
others his own likeness, represented and reflected back to 
him. In sooth, if this is selfishness, it is of the most laud- 
able and lovable sort, — that selfishness which has made us 
men and keeps us so. From this universal feeling, then, 
apart from my friendship to thee, I shall be happy in having 
such a scholar in the great youth-renewing art. But, as from 
a master it may be expected that he shall produce no botcher 
b}' his training, I confess myself a little at a loss how to set 
about it. I told thee already that neither recipes nor instruc- 
tions would avail : the practice cannot be taught by universal 
rules. For thy sake, and from the wish to propagate my 
doctrine, I am ready to make any sacrifice. The greatest 
my power for the present moment I will now propose to 
thee. I shall leave my servant here, — a sort of waiting- 
man and conjurer, — who, if he does not understand prepar- 
ing every thing, if he has not yet been initiated into all the 
mysteries, can apply my preparations perfectly, and, in the 
first stage of the attempt, will be of great use to thee, till 
once thou have worked thy way so far into the art, that I 
may reveal to thee the higher secrets also." 

" How ! " cried the major, " thou hast stages and degrees 
in thy art of making young? Thou hast secrets, even for 
the initiated? " 

"No doubt of it," replied the other. "That were but 
a sorry art which could be comprehended all at once, the 
last point of which could be seen by one just entering its 
precincts." 

Without loss of time the waiting-man was formallv con- 
signed to the major, who engaged to treat him handsomely. 
The baroness was called on for drawers, boxes, glasses, to 
what purpose she knew not ; the partition of the toilet-store 
went forward ; the friends kept together in a gay and 
sprightly mood till after nightfall. At moonrise, some time 
later, the guest took his leave, promising erelong to return. 

The major reached his chamber pretty much fatigued. He 
had risen earl}', had not spared himself throughout the day, 
and now hoped very soon to get to bed. But here, instead of 
one servant, he found two. The old groom, in his old way, 
rapidly undressed him ; but now the waiting-man stepped 
forth, and signified, that, for appliances of a renovating and 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 183 

cosmetic nature, the peculiar season was night, that so their 
effects, assisted by a peaceful sleep, might be stronger and 
safer. The major was obliged to content himself, and let 
his head be anointed, his face painted, his eyebrows pen- 
cilled, and his lips tipped with salve. Besides all this, there 
were various ceremonies still required ; nay, the very night- 
cap was not to be put on immediately, not till a net, or even 
a fine-leather cap, had been drawn on next the head. 

The major laid himself in bed with a sort of unpleasant 
feeling, which, however, he had no time to investigate the 
nature of ; as he very soon fell asleep. But, if we might 
speak with his spirit, we should say he felt a little mummy- 
like, somewhat between a sick man and a man embalmed. 
Yet the sweet image of Hilaria, encircled with the gayest 
hopes, soon led him into a refreshing sleep. 

In the morning, at the proper hour, the groom was ready 
in his place. All that pertained to his master's equipment 
la} T in wonted order on the chairs ; and the major was just 
on the point of rising, when the new attendant entered, and 
strongly protested against any such precipitation. He must 
rest, he must wait, if their enterprise were to prosper, if they 
were to be rewarded for their pains and labor. The major 
now learned that he had to rise by and by, to take a slight 
breakfast, and then go into a bath, which was already pre- 
pared for him. The regulations were inflexible, they required 
a strict observance ; and some hours passed away under these 
occupations. 

The major abridged the resting-time after his bath, and 
thought to get his clothes about him : for he was by nature 
expeditious, and at present he longed to see Hilaria ; but in 
this point also his new servant thwarted him, and signified, 
that in all cases he must drop the thought of being in a hurry. 
Whatever he did, it appeared, must be done leisurely and 
pleasurably ; but the time of dressing was especially to be 
considered as a cheerful hour for conversation with one's 
self. 

The valet's manner of proceeding completely agreed with 
his words. But, in return, the major, when, on stepping 
forward to the glass, he saw himself trimmed out in the 
neatest fashion, really thought that he was better dressed 
than formerly. Without many words the conjurer had 
changed the very uniform into a newer cut, having spent 
the night in working at it. An apparently so quick rejuve- 
nescence put the major in his liveliest mood ; so that he felt 



184 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

himself as if renovated, both without and within, and has- 
tened with impatient longing to his friends. 

He found his sister engaged in looking at the pedigree 
which she had caused to be hung up ; the conversation last 
night having turned on some collateral relations, unmarried 
persons, or resident in foreign countries, or entirely gone 
out of sight, from all of whom the baroness and her brother 
had more or less hope of heritages for themselves or their 
families. They conversed a while on these matters, without 
mentioning the circumstance that all their economical cares 
and exertions had hitherto been solely directed to their chil- 
dren. By Hilaria's attachment the whole of this prospect 
had altered, yet neither the major nor his sister could sum- 
mon courage to mention it further at this moment. 

The baroness left the room : the major was standing alone 
before this laconic history of his family ; Hilaria stepped in 
to him ; she leaned herself on him in a kind, childlike wa} r , 
looked at the parchment, and asked him whom of all these 
he had known, and who of them were still left and living. 

The major began his delineation with the oldest of whom 
any dim recollection remained with him from childhood. 
Then he proceeded farther ; painted the characters of sev- 
eral fathers, the likeness or unlikeness of their children to 
them ; remarked that the grandfather often re-appeared in 
the grandson ; spoke, by the way, of the influence of certain 
women, wedded out of stranger families, and sometimes 
changing the character of whole branches. He eulogized 
the virtue of many an ancestor and relative, nor did he hide 
their failings. Such as had brought shame on their lineage 
he passed in silence. At length he reached the lowest lines. 
Here stood his brother, the chief marshal himself, and his 
sister, and beneath him his son with Hilaria at his side. 

" These two look each other straight enough in the face," 
said the major ; not adding what he thought of the matter 
in his heart. 

After a pause Hilaria answered, in a meek, small tone, 
and almost with a sigh, " Yet those, surely, are not to blame 
who look upwards." At the same time she looked up to 
him with a pair of eyes out of which her whole love was 
speaking. 

" Do I understand thee rightly? M said the major, turning 
round to her. 

" I can say nothing," answered she, with a smile, " which 
you do not know already." 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 185 

" Thou makest me the happiest man under the sun," cried 
he, and fell at her feet. " Wilt thou be mine? " 

" For Heaven's sake, rise ! I am thine forever." 

The baroness entered. Though not surprised, she rather 
hesitated. "If it be wrong, sister," said the major, "the 
blame is thine : if it be right, we will thank thee forever." 

The baroness from youth upwards had so loved her brother 
that she preferred him to all men ; and perhaps Hilaria' s 
attachment itself had, if not arisen from this sisterly par- 
tiality, at least been cherished by it. All three now united 
in one love, in one delight ; and thus the happiest hours flew 
over them. Yet, at last, their eyes re-opened to the world 
around them likewise ; and this rarely stands in unison with 
such emotions. 

They now again bethought them of the son. For him 
Hilaria had been destined : this he himself well knew. 
Directly after finishing the business with the chief marshal, 
the major had appointed his son to expect him in the garrison, 
that they might settle every thing together, and conduct these 
purposes to a happy issue. But now, by an unexpected 
occurrence, the whole state of matters had been thrown out 
of joint ; the circumstances which before plied into one 
another so kindly, now seemed to be assuming a hostile 
aspect ; and it was not easy to foresee what turn the affair 
would take, what temper would seize the individuals con- 
cerned in it. 

Meanwhile the major was obliged to resolve on visiting 
his son, to whom he had already announced himself. Not 
without reluctance, not without singular forecastings, not 
without pain at even for a short time leaving Hilaria, he at 
last, after much lingering, took the road, and, leaving groom 
and horses behind him, proceeded with his cosmetic valet, 
who had now become an indispensable appendage, towards 
the town where his son resided. 

Both saluted and embraced each other cordially after so 
long a separation. They had much to communicate, yet 
they did not just commence with what lay nearest their 
hearts. The son went into copious talk about his hopes of 
speedy advancement : in return for which the father gave 
him precise accounts of what had been discussed and deter- 
mined between the elder members of the family, both in 
regard to fortune in general, to the individual estates, and 
every thing pertaining to them. 

The conversation was, in some degree, beginning to flag, 



186 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

when the son took heart, and said to his father, with a smile, 
" You treat me very tenderly, dear father ; and I thank you 
for it. You tell me of properties and fortune, and mention 
not the terms under which, at least in part, they are to be 
mine : you keep back the name of Hilaria ; you expect that 
I should bring it forth, that I should express my desire to be 
speedily united with that amiable maiden. " 

At these words the major felt in great perplexity ; but as, 
partly by nature, partly by old habit, it was his way to col- 
lect the purpose of the man he had to treat with before stat- 
ing his own, he now said nothing, and looked at the son 
with an ambiguous smile. " You will not guess, father, 
what I have to say," continued the lieutenant: "I will 
speak it out briefly, and once for all. I can depend on your 
affection, which, amid such manifold care for me, has had 
due regard for my true happiness as well as my fortune. 
Some time or other it must be said : be it said, then, even 
now, Hilaria cannot make me happy ! I thiuk of Hilaria as 
of a lovely relative, towards whom I would live all my days 
with the friendliest feelings ; but another has awakened my 
affection, another has found my heart. The attachment is 
irresistible : you will not make me miserable." 

Not without effort did the major conceal the cheerfulness 
which was rising over his face, and, in a tone of mild seri- 
ousness, inquire of the son, Who the person was that had 
so entirely subdued him? — "You must see her yourself, 
father," said the other; " for she can as little be described 
as comprehended. I have but one fear, — that you yourself 
will be led away by her, like every one that approaches her. 
By Heaven, it will be so ; and I shall see you the rival of 
your son ! " 

" But who is she? " inquired the major. "If it is not in 
thy power to delineate her personal characteristics, tell me, at 
least, of her outward circumstances : these, at least, may be 
described." 

"Well, then, father," replied the son; "and yet these 
outward circumstances, too, would be different in a different 
person, would act otherwise on another. She is a young 
widow, heiress of an old, rich man lately deceased ; inde- 
pendent, and well meriting to be so ; acquainted with many, 
loved by just as many, courted by just as many ; yet, if I 
mistake not very greatly, in her heart wholly mine." 

With joyful vivacity, as the father kept silence, and gave 
no sign of disapproval, the son proceeded to describe the 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 187 

conduct of the fair widow towards him ; told of her all-con- 
quering grace ; recounted one by one her tender expressions 
of favor ; in which the father truly could see nothing but 
the light friendliness of a universally courted woman, who, 
among so many, may indeed prefer some one, yet without 
on that account entirely deciding for him. Under any other 
circumstances he would doubtless have endeavored to warn 
a son, nay, even a friend, of the self-deception which might 
probably enough be at work here ; but, in the present case, 
he himself was so anxious for his son's being right, for the 
fair widow's realty loving him, and as soon as possible 
deciding in his favor, that he either felt no scruple of this 
sort, or banished any such from his mind, perhaps even only 
concealed it. 

" Thou placest me in great perplexity," began the father, 
after some pause. il The whole arrangement between the sur- 
viving members of our family depends on the understanding 
that thou wed Hilaria. If she wed a stranger, the whole 
fair, careful combination of a fine fortune falls to the ground 
again ; and thou thyself art not too well provided for. 
There is certainly another way still, but one which sounds 
rather strange, and by which thou wouldst gain very little : 
I, in my old days, might wed Hilaria, — a plan which could 
hardly give thee any very high satisfaction." 

" The highest in the world!" exclaimed the lieutenant; 
" for who can feel a true attachment, who can enjoy or 
anticipate the happiness of love, without wishing every 
friend, every one whom he values, the like supreme felicity? 
You are not old, father ; and how lovely is Hilaria ! Even 
the transient thought of offering her your hand bespeaks 
a youthful heart, an unimpaired spirit. Let us take up 
this thought, this project, on the spot, and consider and 
investigate it thoroughly. My own happiness would be com- 
plete if I knew you happy : I could then rejoice in good 
earnest, that the care you had bestowed on my destiny was 
repaid on your own by so fair and high a recompense. I 
can now with confidence and frankness, and true openness 
of heart, conduct you to my fair one. You will approve of 
my feelings, since you yourself feel : you will not impede 
the happiness of your son, since you are advancing to your 
own happiness." 

With these and other importunate words the lieutenant 
repressed many a scruple which his father was for introdu- 
cing, left him no time to calculate, but hurried off with him 



188 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

to the fair widow, whom they found in a commodious and 
splendid house, with a select rather than numerous party, all 
engaged in cheerful conversation. She was one of those 
female souls whom no man can escape. With incredible ad- 
dress she contrived to make our major the hero of this even- 
ing. The rest of the party seemed to be her family : the 
major alone was her guest. His circumstances she alreadj 7 
knew very well ; yet she had the skill to ask about them, as if 
she were wishing, now at last, to get right information on the 
subject from himself : and so, likewise, every individual of 
the company was made to show some interest in the stranger. 
One nust have known his brother, a second his estates, a 
third something else concerned with him ; so that the major, 
in the midst of a lively conversation, still felt himself to be 
the centre. Moreover, he was sitting next the fair one ; her 
eyes were on him, her smile was directed to him : in a word, 
he felt himself so comfortable, that he almost forgot the 
cause which had brought him. She herself scarcely ever 
mentioned his son, though the young man took a keen share 
in the conversation : it seemed as if, in her eyes, he, like all 
the rest, was present only on his father's account. 

The guests strolled up and down the rooms, and grouped 
themselves into accidental knots. The lieutenant stepped 
up to his fair one, and asked, "What say you to my 
father?" 

With a smile she replied, ' ' Methinks } 7 ou might well take 
him as a pattern. Do but look how neatly he is dressed ! 
If his manner and bearing are not better than his gentle 
son's! " And thus she continued to cry up and praise the 
father at the son's expense ; awakening, by this means, a 
very mixed feeling of contentment and jealousy in the 
young man's heart. 

Erelong the lieutenant came in contact with his father, 
and recounted all this to him. It made the major's manner 
to his fair hostess so much the more friendly ; and she, on 
her side, began to treat him on a more lively and trustful 
footing. In short, we may say, that, when the company 
broke up, the major, as well as the rest, already belonged 
to her and to her circle. 

A heavy rain prevented the guests from returning home 
as they had come. Some coaches drove up, into which the 
walkers arranged themselves : only the lieutenant, under 
the pretext that the carriage was already too crowded, let 
his father drive away, and staid behind. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 189 

The major, on entering his apartment, felt actually con- 
fused and giddy in mind, uncertain of himself ; as is the 
case with us on passing rapidly from one state to the oppo- 
site. The land still seems in motion to a man who steps 
from shipboard, and the light still quivers in the eye of 
him who comes at once into darkness. So did the major 
still feel himself encircled with the presence of that fair 
being. He wished still to see, to hear her, again to see, 
again to hear her : and, after some consideration, he forgave 
his son ; nay, he thought him happy that he might pretend 
to the appropriation of such loveliness. 

From these feelings he was roused by the lieutenant, 
who, with lively expressions of rapture, rushed into the 
room, embraced his father, and exclaimed, " I am the hap- 
piest man in the world ! ' ' After several more of such pre- 
liminary phrases, the two at last came to an explanation. 
The father remarked, that the fair lady in conversing with 
him had not mentioned the son, or hinted at him by a single 
syllable. " That is just her soft, silent, half -concealing, 
half-discovering way, by which you become certain of your 
wishes, and yet can never altogether get rid of doubt. So 
was she wont to treat me hitherto ; but your presence, 
father, has done wonders. I confess it, I staid behind, 
that I might see her one moment longer. I found her walk- 
ing to and fro in her still shining rooms ; for I know it is 
her custom, when the company is gone, no light must be 
extinguished. She walks alone up and down in her magic 
halls, when the spirits are dismissed which she had sum- 
moned thither. She accepted the pretext under cover of 
which I came back. She spoke with kind grace, though of 
indifferent matters. We walked to and fro through the 
open doors, along the whole suite of chambers. We had 
wandered several times to the end, into the little cabinet, 
which is lighted only by a dim lamp. If she was beauti- 
ful while moving under the blaze of the lustres, she was 
infinitely more so when illuminated by the soft gleam of the 
lamp. We had again reached the cabinet ; and, in turning, 
we paused for an instant. I know not what it was that 
forced this audacity on me : I know not how I could ven- 
ture, in the midst of the most ordinary conversation, all at 
once to seize her hand, to kiss that soft hand, and to press 
it to my heart. It was not drawn away. ' Heavenly crea- 
ture ! ' cried I, ' conceal thyself no longer from me. If in 
this fair heart dwells favor for the happy man who stands 



190 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

before thee, disclose it, confess it ! The present is the best, 
the highest time. Banish me, or take me to thy arms ! ' 

44 1 know not what all I said, what I looked and expressed. 
She withdrew not, she resisted not, she answered not. I 
ventured to clasp her in my arms, to ask her if she would 
be mine. I kissed her with rapture ; she pushed me away : 
4 Well, yes, then : yes ! ' or some such words, said she, in 
a faint tone, as if embarrassed. I retired, and cried, 4 I will 
send my father : he shall speak for me.' — ' Not a word to 
him of this ! ' replied she, following me some steps. 4 Go 
away : forget what has happened.' " 

What the major thought we shall not attempt to unfold. 
He said, however, to his son, 44 What is to be done now, 
thinkest thou? To my mind the affair is, by accident, so 
well introduced, that we may now go to work a little more 
formally ; that perhaps it were well if I called there to-mor- 
row, and proposed in thy name." 

"For Heaven's sake, no, father!" cried the son: "it 
would spoil the whole business. That look, that tone, must 
be disturbed and deranged by no formality. It is enough, 
father, that your presence accelerates this union without 
your uttering a word on the subject. Yes, it is to you that 
I owe my happiness ! The respect which my loved one 
entertains for you has conquered every scruple, and never 
would your son have found so good a moment had not his 
father prepared it for him." 

These and such disclosures occupied them till far in the 
night. They mutually settled their plans : the major, simply 
for form's sake, was to make a parting call, and then set 
out to arrange his marriage with Hilaria ; the son was to 
forward and accelerate his, as he should find it possible. 



Hersilia's Postscript. 

Here I break off, partly because I can write no more at 
present, but partly also to fix a thorn in your heart. Now, 
answer the question for yourself : How strangely, from all 
that you have read, must matters stand with these ladies at 
present ! Till now they had no mutual relation to each 
other : they were strangers, though each seemed to have 
the prospect of a marriage which was to approximate them. 
And now we find them in company, but by themselves, 
without male attendance, and wandering over the world. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 191 

What can have passed, what can be to follow? You, my 
worthy sir, will doubtless get quit of the difficulty by mourn- 
fully exclaiming to yourself, "These, also, are renunci- 
ants I ' * And here you are perfectly right : but expectants 
too ? This I durst not discover, even if I knew it. 

To show you the way how this amiable pair may be met 
with on your wandering, I adopt a singular expedient. You 
herewith receive a little clipping of a map : when you lay 
this in its place on the full map of the country, the mag- 
netic needle painted here will point with its barb to the spot 
whither the desirable are moving. This riddle is not so 
very hard to read : but I could wish, that, from time to time, 
you would do the like for us, and send a little snip of chart 
over hither ; we should then, in some measure, understand 
to what quarter our thoughts were to be directed : and how 
glad should we be if the needle were at last attracted by 
ourselves. May all good be given you, and all errors for- 
given ! 

It is said of women, that they cannot send away a letter 
without tacking postscripts to the end of it. Whatever 
inferences you may draw from the fact, I cannot deny that 
this is my second postscript, and the place, after all, where 
I am to tell you the flower of the whole matter. This arrow- 
shaft, on the little patch of map, Hilaria herself was at the 
pains to draw and to decorate with such dainty plumage : 
the sharp point, however, was the fair widow's work. Have 
a care that it do not scratch, or perhaps pierce you. Our 
bargain is, that whenever you meet, be this where it may, 
you are forthwith to present the small shred of paper, and 
so be the sooner and more heartily admitted into trust. 



A WORD FROM THE EDITOR. 

That a certain deficiency, perhaps discernible in the parts, 
certainly discernible here and there in the whole, can- 
not, henceforth, be avoided, we ourselves take courage to 
forewarn the reader, without fearing thereby to thwart his 
enjoyment. In the present task, undertaken truly with fore- 
thought and good heart, we still meet with all the inconven- 
iences which have delayed the publication of these little 
volumes for twenty years. This period has altered nothing 
for the better. We still find ourselves in more than one way 



192 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

impeded, at this or that place threatened with one obstruc- 
tion or another. For we have to solve the uncertain problem 
of selecting from those most multifarious papers what is 
worthiest and most important, so that it be grateful to think- 
ing and cultivated minds, and refresh and forward them in 
many a province of life. Now, here are the journals, more 
or less complete, lying before us ; sometimes communicable 
without scruple ; sometimes, again by reason of their unim- 
portant, and likewise of their too important contents, seem- 
ingly unfit for insertion. 

There are not even wanting sections devoted to the actual 
world, on statistic, technical, and other practical external 
subjects. To cut these off as incongruous, we do not deter- 
mine without reluctance ; as life and inclination, knowledge 
and passion, strangely combining together, go on here in the 
straitest union. 

Then we come on sketches written with clear views and 
for glorious objects, but not so consequent and deep search- 
ing that we can fully approve of them, or suppose, that, in 
this new and so far advanced time, they could be readable 
and influential. 

So likewise we fall in with little anecdotes, destitute of con- 
nection, difficult to arrange under heads, some of them, when 
closely examined, not altogether unobjectionable. Here and 
there we discover more complete narratives, several of which, 
though already known to the world, nevertheless demand a 
place here, and at the same time require exposition and con- 
clusion. Of poems, also, there is no want ; and yet it is not 
always easy, not always possible, to decide where they should 
be introduced with best regard to the preserving and assist- 
ing of their true tone, which is but too easily disturbed and 
overturned. If we are not, therefore, as we have too often 
done in by-gone years, again to stop in the middle of this 
business, nothing will remain for us but to impart what we 
possess, to give out what has been preserved. Some chap- 
ters, accordingly, the completion of which might have been 
desirable, we now offer in their first hurried form, that so 
the reader may not only feel the existence of a want here, 
but also be informed what this want is, and complete in his 
own mind whatever, partly from the nature of the object, 
partly from the intervening circumstances, cannot be pre- 
sented to him perfectly completed in itself, or furnished 
with all its requisite accompaniments. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 193 



CHAPTER XIH. 

The proposed riddle raised some scruples in Wilhelm's 
mind ; yet erelong he began to feel a still attraction in the 
matter, an impulse of longing to reach that appointed line, 
and follow its direction : as, indeed, we are wont to seize 
with eagerness any specific object that excites our imagina- 
tion, our active faculties, and to wish that we might accom- 
plish it and partake of it. 

A child that, in asking alms of us, puts into our hand a 
card with five lottery numbers written on it, we do not lightly 
turn away unserved ; and it depends on the moment, es- 
pecially if it be shortly before the drawing, whether we shall 
not, with accidentally stimulated hope, quite against our 
usual custom, stake heavy shares upon these very num- 
bers. 

The wanderer now tried on a large map the little fragment 
which had been sent him, and stood surprised, amazed, af- 
frighted, as he saw the needle pointing straight to Mignon's 
native place, to the houses where she had lived. What his 
peculiar feelings were, we do not find declared ; but whoever 
can bring back to memory the end of the Apprenticeship, will 
in his own heart and mind, without difficulty, call forth the 
like. 

The chief cause, however, why we meet with scantier rec- 
ords of this excursion than we could have wished, may 
probably be this : that Wilhelm chanced to fall in with a 
young, lively companion of his journey, by means of whom 
it became eas}^ to retain for himself and his friends a vivid 
and strong remembrance of this pious pilgrimage without 
any aid of writing. Unexpectedly he finds himself beside a 
painter, — one of that class of persons whom we often see 
wandering about the world, and still oftener figuring in ro- 
mances and dramas, but, in this case, an individual who 
showed himself at once to be really a distinguished artist. 
The two very soon got acquainted, mutually communicated 
their desires, projects, purposes. And now it appears that 
this skilful artist, who delights in painting aquatical land- 
scapes, and can decorate his pieces with rich, well-imagined, 
well-executed additions and accompaniments, has been pas- 
sionately attracted b}' Mignon's form, destiny, and being. 
He has often painted her already, and is now going forth to 
copy from nature the scenes where she passed her early 

7— Goethe Vol 8 



194 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

years ; amid these to represent the dear child in happy and 
unhappy circumstances and moments, and thus to make her 
image, which lives in all tender hearts, present also to the 
sense of the eye. 

The friends soon reach the Lago Maggiore : Wilhelm en- 
deavors by degrees to find out the places indicated. Rural 
palaces, spacious monasteries, ferries and bays, capes and 
landings, are visited ; nor are the dwellings of courageous 
and kind-hearted fishermen forgotten, or the cheerfully built 
villages along the shore, or the gay mansions on the neigh- 
boring heights. All this the artist can seize, to all of it 
communicate, by light and coloring, the feeling suitable for 
each scene ; so that Wilhelm passes his days and his hours 
in heart-searching emotion. 

In several of the leaves stood Mignon represented on the 
foreground, as she had looked and lived : Wilhelm striving 
by correct description to assist the happy imagination of his 
friend, and reduce these general conceptions within the 
stricter limits of individuality. 

And thus you might see the bo} T -girl set forth in various 
attitudes and manifold expression. Beneath the lofty portal 
of the splendid country-house she is standing, thoughtfully 
contehi plating the marble statues in the hall. Here she rocks 
herself, plashing to and fro among the waters, in the fastened 
boat : there she climbs the mast, and shows herself as a 
fearless sailor. 

But distinguished beyond all the other pictures was one 
which the artist, on his journey hither, and prior to his meet- 
ing with Wilhelm, had combined and painted with all its 
characteristic features. In the heart of the rude mountains 
shines the graceful seeming-bo}', encircled with toppling 
cliffs, besprayed with cataracts, in the middle of a motley 
horde. Never, perhaps, was a grim, precipitous, primeval 
mountain-pass more beautifully or expressively relieved with 
living figures. The party-colored, gypsy-looking group, at 
once rude and fantastic, strange and common, too loose to 
cause fear, too singular to awaken confidence. Stout beasts 
of burden are bearing along, now over paths made of trees, 
now down by steps hewn in the rock, a tawdry, chaotic heap 
of luggage, round which all the instruments of a deafening 
music hang dangling to and fro, to affright the ear from time 
to time with rude tones. Amid all this the lovely child, self- 
collected without defiance, indignant without resistance, led, 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 195 

but not dragged. Who would not have looked with pleasure 
at this singular and impressive picture? Given in strong 
characters, frowned the stern obstruction of these rock- 
masses, riven asunder by gloomy chasms, towered up to- 
gether, threatening to hinder all outgate, had not a bold 
bridge betokened the possibility of again coming into union 
with the rest of the world. Nor had the artist, with his 
quick feeling of fictitious truth, forgot to indicate the en- 
trance of a cave, which you might equally regard as the 
natural laboratory of huge crystals, or as the abode of a 
fabulously frightful brood of dragons. 

Not without a holy fear did our friends visit the marchese's 
palace. The old man was still absent on his travels ; but, in 
this circle also, the two wanderers, knowing well how to apply 
and conduct themselves, both towards spiritual and temporal 
authorities, were kindly received and entertained. 

The absence of the owner also was to Wilhelm very pleas- 
ant ; for although he could have wished to see the worthy 
gentleman, and would have heartily saluted him, he felt 
afraid of the marchese's thankful generosity, and of any 
forced recompense of that true, loving conduct for which he 
had already obtained the fairest reward. 

And thus our friends went floating in gay boats from shore 
to shore, cruising the lake in every direction. It was the 
fairest season of the year : and they missed neither sunrise 
nor sunset, nor any of the thousand shadings which the heav 
enly light first bounteously dispenses over its own firmament, 
and from thence over lake and land ; not appearing itself in 
its perfect glory till imaged back from the waters. 

A luxuriant vegetable world, planted by Nature, watched 
over and forwarded by Art, on every side surrounded them. 
The first chestnut forests they had already greeted with wel- 
come ; and now they could not restrain a mournful smile, as, 
lying under the shade of cypresses, they saw the laurel 
mounting up, the pomegranates reddening, orange and citron 
trees unfolding themselves in blossoms, and fruit at the 
same time glowing forth from the dark foliage. 

Through means of his vivid associate, Wilhelm had an- 
other enjoyment prepared for him. Our old friend had not 
been favored by Nature with the eye of a painter. Suscep- 
tible of visual beauty only in the human form, he now felt, 
that by the presence of a companion, alike disposed, but 
trained to quite different enjoyments and activities, the sur- 
rounding world also was opened to his sight. 



196 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

By viewing, under conversational direction, the changing 
glories of the region, and still more by concentrated imita- 
tion, his eyes were opened, and his mind freed from all its 
once obstinate doubts. Hitherto all copies of Italian scenery 
had seemed to him suspicious : the sky, he thought, was too 
blue ; the violet tone of those charming distances was lovely, 
but untrue ; and the abundant, fresh green too bright and 
gay ; but now he united in his inmost perceptions with his 
new friend, and learned, susceptible as he was, to look at 
the earth with that friend's eyes : and, while Nature unfolded 
the open secret of her beauty, he could not but feel an 
irresistible attraction towards Art as towards her most fit 
expositor. 

But his pictorial friend quite unexpectedly anticipated his 
wishes in another point. The artist had already many times 
started some gay song, and thus, in hours of rest, delight- 
fully enlivened and accompanied their movement when out 
in long voyages over the water. But now it happened, that, 
in one of the palaces they were visiting, he found a curious, 
peculiar stringed instrument, — a lute of small size, strong, 
well toned, convenient, and portable : he soon contrived to 
tune it, and then handled the strings so pleasantly, and so 
well entertained those about him, that, like a new Orpheus, 
he subdued by soft harmonies the usually rigorous and dry 
castellan, and kindly constrained him to lend the instrument 
for a time, under the condition, that, before departing, the 
singer should faithfully return it, and, in the interim, should 
come back some Sunday or holiday, and again gratify them 
by his music. 

Quite another spirit now enlivened lake and shore : boat 
and skiff strove which should be nearest our friends ; even 
freight and market barges lingered in their neighborhood ; 
rows of people on the beach followed their course ; when 
landing they were encircled by a gay-minded throng ; when 
departing each blessed them with a heart contented, yet full 
of longing. 

And now, at last, to any third party who had watched our 
friends, it must have been apparent enough that their mission 
was, in fact, accomplished : all scenes and localities referring 
to Mignon had been, not only sketched, but partly brought 
into light, shade, and color, partly in warm, mid-day hours, 
finished with the utmost fidelity. In effecting this they had 
shifted from place to place in a peculiar way, as Wilhelm's 
vow frequently impeded them: this, however, they had now 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 197 

and then contrived to evade by explaining it as valid only on 
land, and on water not applicable. 

Indeed, Wilhelm himself now felt that their special pur- 
pose was attained ; yet he could not deny that the wish to 
see Hilaria and the fair widow must also be satisfied if he 
wished to leave this country with a free mind. His friend, to 
whom he had imparted their story, was no less curious, and 
already prided himself in the thought, that, in one of his 
paintings, there was a vacant space, which, as an artist, he 
might decorate with the forms of these gentle persons. 

Accordingly, they now cruised to and fro, watching the 
points where strangers are wont first to enter this paradise. 
Their hope of meeting friends here had already been made 
known to the boatmen ; and the search had not lasted long 
when there came in sight a splendid barge, which they in- 
stantly made chase of, and forbore not passionately to 
grapple with on reaching it. The dames, in some degree 
alarmed at this movement, soon recovered their composure 
as Wilhelm produced his little piece of chart ; and the two, 
without hesitation, recognized the arrow which themselves 
had drawn on it. The friends were then kindly invited to 
come on board the ladies' barge, which they did without an 
instant's delay. 

And now let us figure to ourselves these four, as they sit 
together in the daintiest apartment, the most blissful world 
lying round them, looking in each other's faces, fanned by 
soft airs, rocked on glittering waves. Imagine the female 
pair, as we lately saw them described ; the male, as they 
have together for weeks been leading a wayfaring life ; and 
after a little reflection we behold them all in the most delight- 
ful, but also the most dangerous situation. 

For the three who have before, willingly or unwillingly, 
ranked themselves in the number of renunciants, we have 
not the worst to fear : the fourth, however, may, probably 
enough, too soon see himself admitted into that order, like 
the others. 

After crossing the lake several times, and pointing out the 
most interesting spots, both on the shore and the islands, 
our two wanderers conducted their fair friends to the place 
they were to pass the night in ; where a dexterous guide, 
selected for this voyage, had taken care to provide all pos- 
sible conveniences. Wilhelm 's vow was now a harsh but 
suitable master of the ceremonies ; for he and his compan- 
ion had already passed three days in this very station, and 



198 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

exhausted all that was remarkable in the environs. The 
artist, not restrained by any vow, begged permission to 
attend the dames on shore : this, however, they declined, 
and so the party separated at some distance from the harbor. 

Scarcely nad the singer stepped into his skiff, which hastily 
drew back from the beach, when he seized his lute, and grace- 
fully began raising that strangely plaintive song which the 
Venetian gondoliers send forth in clear melody from land to 
sea, and from sea to land. Expert enough in this feat, 
which in the present instance proceeded with peculiar ten- 
derness and expression, he strengthened his voice in propor- 
tion to the increasing distance ; so that on the shore you 
would have thought you heard him still singing in the same 
place. He at last laid his lute aside, trusting to his voice 
alone, and had the satisfaction to observe that the dames, 
instead of retiring into their house, were pleased to linger on 
the shore. He felt so inspired that he could not cease, not 
even when night and remoteness had withdrawn every thing 
from view ; till at last his calmer friend reminded him, that, 
if darkness did favor his tones, the skiff had already long 
passed the limits within which these could take effect. 

According to promise, the two parties again met next day 
on the open lake. Flying along, the}' formed acquaintance 
with the lovely series of prospects, now standing forth in 
separate distinction, then gathering into rows, and seen 
behind each other, and at last fading away, as the higher 
eclipsed the lower ; all which, repeating itself in the waters, 
affords in such excursions the most varied entertainment. 
Nor, in the course of these sights, did the copies of them, 
from our artist's portfolio, fail to awaken thoughts and an- 
ticipations of what, in the present hour, was not imparted. 
For all such matters the still Hilaria seemed to have a free 
and fair feeling. 

But, towards noon, singularity again came into play : the 
ladies landed alone ; the men cruised before the harbor. And 
now the singer endeavored to accommodate his music to a 
shorter distance, where not only the general, soft, and quickly 
warbling tone of desire, but likewise a certain gay, graceful 
importunity might be expected to tell. And here now and 
then some one or other of the songs, for which we stand in- 
debted to our friends in the "Apprenticeship," would come 
hovering over his strings, over his lips ; but out of well- 
meant regard to the feelings of his hearers, as well as to his 
own, he restrained himself fn this particular, and roved at 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 199 

largo in foreign images and emotions, whereby bis perform- 
ance gained in effect^ and reached the ear with so much the 
more insinuating blandishment. The two friends, blockad- 
ing the harbor in this way, would not have recollected the 
trivial concern of eatmg and drinking, had not the more 
provident fair ones sent them over a supply of daint} f bits, 
to which an accompanying draught of wine had the best 
possible relish. 

Every separation, every stipulation, that comes in the way 
of our gathering passions, sharpens instead of stifling them ; 
and in this case, as in others, it may be presumed that the 
short absence had awakened equal longing in both parties. 
At all events, the dames in their gay, dazzling gondola were 
very soon to be seen coming back. 

This word gondola, however, let us not take up in the 
melancholy Venetian meaning : here it signifies a cheerful, 
commodious, social bark ; which, had our little company 
been twice as large, would still have been spacious enough 
for them. 

Some days were spent in this peculiar way, between meet- 
ing and parting, between separation and social union ; but, 
amid the enjoyment of the most delightful intercourse, de- 
parture and bereavement still hovered before the agitated 
soul. In presence of the new friends the old came back into 
the mind : were these new ones absent, each could not but 
admit that already they had taken deep root in his remem- 
brance. None but a composed and tried spirit, like our fair 
widow, could in such moments have maintained herself in 
complete equilibrium. 

Hilaria's heart had been too deeply wounded to admit of 
any new entire impression : but as the grace of a fair scene 
encircles us of itself with soothing influences ; so, when the 
mildness of tender-hearted friends conspires with it, there 
comes over sense and soul a peculiar mood of softness, that 
recalls to us, as in dreaming visions, the past and the absent, 
and withdraws the present, as if it were but a show, into 
spiritual remoteness. Thus, alternately rocked this way and 
that, attracted and repelled, approximated and removed, they 
wavered and wended for several days. 

Without more narrowly investigating these circumstances^ 
the shrewd, experienced guide imagined he observed some 
alteration in the calm demeanor of his heroines ; and when 
at last the whimsical part of their predicament became known 
to him, he contrived here also to devise the most grateful 



200 meister's travels. 

expedient. For, as our two shipmen were again conducting 
the ladies to their usual place of dinner, they were met by 
another gay bark, which, falling alongside of theirs, exhib- 
ited a well-covered table, with all the cheerful invitations of 
a festive repast : the friends could now wait in company the 
lapse of several hours, and only night decided the customary 
separation. 

Happily the artist and Wilhelm had, in their former voya- 
gings, neglected, out of a certain natural caprice, to visit the 
most highly ornamented of all the islands, and had even yet 
never thought of showing to their fair friends the many arti- 
ficial and somewhat dilapidated curiosities of the place, before 
these glorious scenes of creation were entirely gone through. 
At last, however, new light rose on their minds. They took 
counsel with the guide : he contrived forthwith to expedite 
their vo} r age, and all looked on it as the most blissful they 
had yet undertaken. They could now hope and expect, after 
so many interrupted J03 r s, to spend three whole heavenly 
days assembled together in a sequestered abode. 

And here we cannot but bestow on this guide our high 
commendation : he belonged to that nimble, active, dexter- 
ous class, who, in attendance on successive parties, often 
travel the same roads ; perfectly acquainted with the conven- 
iences and inconveniences on all of them, they understand 
how to use the one and evade the other, and, without leav- 
ing their own profit out of sight, still to conduct their patrons 
more cheaply and pleasantly through the country than with- 
out such aid would have been possible. 

At this time, also, a sufficient female train, belonging to 
our dames, for the first time stepped forth in decided ac- 
tivity ; and the fair widow could now make it one of her con- 
ditions, that the friends were to remain with her as guests, 
and content themselves with what she called her moderate 
entertainment. In this point, too, all prospered ; for the 
cunning functionary had, on this occasion as on others, con- 
trived to make so good a use of the letters and introductions 
which his heroines had brought with them, that, the owner of 
the place they were now about to visit being absent, both 
castle and garden, kitchen included, were thrown open for 
the service of the strangers, — nay, some prospect was held 
out, even of the cellar. All things co-operated so harmoni- 
ously, that our wanderers from the very first moment felt 
themselves as if at home, as if born lords of this paradise. 

The whole luggage of the party was now carried to the 



MEISTER'S TBAVELS. 201 

island, an arrangement producing much convenience to all ; 
though the chief advantage aimed at was, that the portfolios 
of our artist, now for the first time all collected together, 
might afford him means to exhibit in continuous sequence to 
his fair hostesses the route he had followed. This task was 
undertaken by all parties with delight. Not that they pro- 
ceeded in the common style of amateur and artist, mutually 
eulogizing : here was a gifted man, rewarded by the most 
sincere and judicious praise. But that we fall not into the 
suspicion of attempting, with general phrases, to palm on 
credulous readers what we could not openly show them, let 
us here insert the judgment of a critic, who some years after- 
wards viewed with studious admiration both the pieces here 
in question, and the others of a like or similar sort by the 
same hand. 

" He succeeds in representing the cheerful repose of lake- 
prospects, where houses in friendly approximation, imaging 
themselves in the clear wave, seem as if bathing in its depths ; 
shores encircled with green hills, behind which rise forest 
mountains, and icy peaks of glaciers. The tone of coloring 
in such scenes is gay, mirthfully clear ; the distances, as if 
overflowed with softening vapor, which, from watered hol- 
lows and river valleys, mounts up grayer and mistier, and 
indicates their windings. No less is the master's art to be 
praised in views from valleys lying nearer the high Alpine 
rauges, where declivities slope down, luxuriantly overgrown, 
and fresh streams roll hastily along by the foot of rocks. 

" With exquisite skill, in the deep, shady trees of the fore- 
ground, he gives the distinctive character of the several 
species ; satisfying us in the form of the whole, as in the 
structure of the branches and the details of the leaves, — no 
less so in the fresh green, with its manifold shadings, where 
soft airs appear as if fanning us with benignant breath, and 
the lights as if thereby put in motion. 

" In the middle ground his lively green tone grows fainter 
by degrees, and at last, on the more distant mountain tops, 
passing into weak violet, weds itself with the blue of the sky. 
But our artist is, above all, happy in his paintings of high 
Alpine regions ; in seizing the simple greatness and stillness 
of their character ; the wide pastures on the slopes, clothed 
with the freshest green, where dark, solitary firs stand forth 
from the grassy carpet ; and from high cliffs foaming brooks 
rush down. Whether he relieve his pasturages with grazing 
cattle, or the narrow, winding, rocky path with mules and 



202 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

laden pack-horses, he paints all with equal truth and rich- 
ness : still introduced in the proper place, and not in too 
great copiousness, they decorate and enliven these scenes 
without interrupting, without lessening, their peaceful soli- 
tude. The execution testifies a master's hand, — easy with 
a few sure strokes, and yet complete. In his later pieces he 
employed glittering English, permanent colors on paper: 
these pictures, accordingly, are of pre-eminently blooming 
tone, cheerful, yet, at the same time, strong and sated. 

" His views of deep mountain chasms, where round and 
round nothing fronts us but dead rock ; where, in the abyss, 
overspanned by its bold arch, the wild stream rages, — are, 
indeed, of less attraction than the former ; yet their truth 
excites us : we admire the great effect of the whole, pro- 
duced at so little cost, by a few expressive strokes, and 
masses of local colors. 

" With no less accuracy of character can he represent the 
regions of the topmost Alpine ranges, where neither tree nor 
shrub any more appears ; but only, amid the rocky teeth and 
snow summits, a few sunny spots clothe themselves with a 
soft sward. Beautiful and balmy and inviting as he colors 
these spots, he has here wisely forborne to introduce grazing 
herds ; for these regions give food only to the chamois, and 
a perilous employment to the wild-hay-men. " 

14 We shall not deviate from our purpose of bringing the 
condition of these waste scenes as close as possible to the 
conception of our readers, if to this word, wild-hay-man, 
or Wildheuer, we subjoin a short explanation. It is a name 
given to the poorer inhabitants of the upland Alpine ranges, 
who occupy themselves in making hay from such grassy spots 
as are inaccessible to cattle. For this purpose they climb* 
with cramps on their feet, the steepest and most dangerous 
cliffs ; or from high crags let themselves down by ropes when 
this is necessary, and so reach these grassy patches. The 
grass on^e cut and dried to hay, they throw it down from the 
heights into the deeper valleys j where, being collected to- 
gether, it is sold to cattle-owners, with whom, on account of 
its superior quality, it finds a ready market." 

These paintings, which must have gratified and attracted 
any eye, were viewed by Hilaria, in particular, with great 
attention ; and from her observations it became clear, that, 
in this department, she herself was no stranger. To the 
artist, least of all, did this continue secret : nor could ap- 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 203 

proval from any one have been more precious to him than 
from this most graceful of all persons. Her companion, 
therefore, kept silence no longer, but blamed Hilaria for not 
coming forward with her own accomplishment, but lingering 
in this case as she always did, — now where the question was 
not of being praised or blamed, but of being instructed. A 
fairer opportunity, she said, might not easily occur. 

And now it came to light, when she was thus forced to 
exhibit her portfolios, what a talent was lying hid behind this 
still and most lovely nature : the capacity had been derived 
from birth, and diligently cultivated by practice. She pos- 
sessed a true eye ; a delicate hand, such as women, accus- 
tomed to use it in their dressing and decorating operations, 
find available in higher art. You might, doubtless, observe 
unsureness in the strokes, and, in consequence, a too un- 
decided character in the objects : but }ou could not help 
admiring the most faithful execution ; though the whole was 
not seized in its happiest effect, not grouped and adjusted 
with the skill of an artist. She is afraid, you would say, of 
profaning her object, if she keep not completely true to it : 
hence she becomes precise and stiff, and loses herself in 
details. 

But now, by the great, free talent, by the bold hand of 
the artist, she feels rising, awakening within her, whatever 
genuine feeling and taste had till now slumbered in her 
mind : she perceives that she has but to take heart, and 
earnestly and punctually to follow some fundamental maxims 
which the artist, with penetrating judgment and friendly 
importunity, is repeating, and impressing on her. That 
sureness of stroke comes of its own accord ; she by degrees 
dwells less on the parts than on the whole : and thus the 
fairest capability rises on a sudden to fulfilment ; as a rose- 
bud, which in the evening we passed by unobservant, breaks 
forth in the morning at sunrise before our face ; and the 
living, quivering movement of this lordly blossom, struggling 
out to the light, seems almost visible before our eyes. 

Nor did this intellectual culture remain without moral 
effects ; for, on a pure spirit, it produces a magic impression 
to be conscious of that heartfelt thankfulness natural towards 
any one to whom it stands indebted for decisive instruction. 
In this case it was the first glad emotion which had risen in 
Hilaria' s soul for many a week. To see this lordly world 
lying round her day after day, and now at once to feel the 
instantly acquired, more perfect gift of representing it! 



204 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

"What delight in figures and tints, to be approaching nearer 
the Unspeakable! She felt herself surprised as with a new 
youth, and could not refuse a peculiar kindliness to the man 
who had procured for her such happiness. 

Thus (lid the two sit together : you could scarcely have 
determined whether he were readier in communicating secret 
advantages in art, or she in seizing them and turning them 
to practice. The happiest rivalry, such as too seldom rises 
between scholar and master, here took place. Many a time 
you might observe the friend preparing with some decisive 
stroke to influence her drawing ; which she, on the other 
hand, would gently decline, hastening to do the wished, the 
necessary, of her ow 1 accord, and always to her master's 
astonishment. 

The fair widow, in the mean while, walked along the ter- 
races with Wilhelm, under cypresses and pines, now under 
vine, now under orange groves, and at last could not but 
fulfil the faintly indicated wish of her new friend, and disclose 
to him the strange entanglement by which the two fair pil- 
grims, cut off from their former ties, and straitly united to 
one another, had been sent forth to wander over the world. 

Wilhelm, who wanted not the gift of accurately noting 
what he saw, took down her narrative some time afterwards 
in writing : this, as he compiled it and transmitted it by 
Hersilia to Natalia, we purpose by and by communicating to 
our readers. 

The last evening was now come ; and a rising, most clear, 
full moon concealed the transition from day to night. The 
party had assembled and seated themselves on one of the 
highest terraces, to see distinct and unimpeded, and glitter- 
ing in the sheen of east and west, the peaceful lake, hidden 
partly in its length, but visible over all its breadth. 

Whatever in such circumstances might be talked of, it was 
natural once more to repeat the hundred times repeated ; 
to mention the beauties of this sky, of this water, of this 
land, under the influences of a strong sun and milder moon, 
— nay, exclusively and lyrically to recognize and describe 
them. 

But what none of them uttered, what each durst scarcely 
avow to himself, was the deep, mournful feeling which, 
stronger or weaker, but with equal truth and tenderness, was 
beating in every bosom. The presentiment of parting dif- 
fused itself over present union : a gradual stagnation was 
becoming almost painful. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 206 

Then at last the singer roused himself, summoned up his 
resolution ; with strong tones, preluding on his instrument ; 
heedless of the former well-meant reserve. Mignon's figure, 
with the first soft song of the gentle child, were hovering 
before him. Passionately hurried over the limits, with long- 
ing touch awakening the sweetly sounding strings, he began to 
raise, — 

u Dost know the land where citrons, lemons, grow, 
Gold oranges 'neath dusky foliage " . . . 

Hersilia rose in deepest agitation, and hurried away, veiling 
her face : our fair widow, with a motion of refusal, waved 
her hand towards the singer ; while she caught Wilhelm's arm 
with the other. The perplexed and half-unconscious youth 
followed Hilaria : Wilhelm, by his more considerate guide, 
was led after them. And now, when they stood all four under 
the high moonshine, the general emotion was no longer to 
be concealed. The women threw themselves into each other's 
arms ; the men embraced each other ; and Luna was witness 
of the noblest, chastest tears. Some recollection slowly re- 
turned : they forced themselves asunder, silent, under strange 
feelings and wishes, from which hope was already cut off. 
And now our artist, whom his friend dragged with him, felt 
himself here under the void heaven, in the solemn, lovely 
hour of night, initiated in the first stage of renunciation, 
which those friends had already passed through, though they 
now saw themselves again in danger of being sharply tried. 

Not till late had the young men gone to rest ; awakening 
in the early morning, they took heart ; thought themselves 
now strong enough for a farewell to this paradise ; devised 
many plans for still, without violation of duty, at least lin- 
gering in the pleasant neighborhood. 

While purposing to introduce their projects to this effect, 
they were cut short by intelligence, that, with the earliest 
break of day, the ladies had departed. A letter from the 
hand of our Queen of Hearts gave them more precise in- 
formation. You might have doubted whether sense rather 
than goodness, love rather than friendship, acknowledgment 
of merit rather than soft, bashful favor, was expressed in it. 
But, alas ! in the conclusion stood the hard request, that our 
two wanderers were neither to follow their heroines, nor any- 
where to seek them ; nay, if they chanced to see each other, 
they were faithfully to avoid meeting. 

And now the paradise, as if by the touch of an enchanter's 



206 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

rod, was changed for our friends into an utter desert; and 
certainly they would have smiled at themselves had they per- 
ceived at this moment how unjust and unthankful they were 
on a sudden become to so fair and remarkable a scene. No 
self-seeking hypochondriac could so sharply and spitefully 
have rated and censured the decay of the buildings, the neg- 
lected condition of the walls, the weathered aspect of the 
towers, the grassy obstruction of the walks, the perishing of 
the trees, the mossiness and mouldering of the artificial 
grottos, and whatever else of that sort was to be observed, 
as our two travellers now did. By degrees, however, they 
settled themselves as circumstances would admit : the artist 
carefully packed up his work ; they both set sail ; Wilhelm 
accompanying him to the upper quarter of the lake, where, 
by previous agreement, the former set forth on his way to 
Natalia, to introduce her by his fair landscape-papers into 
scenes which, perhaps, she might not soon have an opportunity 
of viewing with her eyes. He was at the same time com- 
missioned to inform her confessionally of the late incident, 
which had reduced him to a state such that he might be re- 
ceived with hearty kindness by the confederates in the vow 
of renunciation, and with soft, friendly treatment in the 
midst of them, be comforted if he could not be healed. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



In this division of our work, the exculpatory " Word from 
the Editor ' ' might have been more requisite than even in the 
foregoing chapter ; for there, though we had not the paint- 
ings of the master and his fair scholar, on which all de- 
pended, to exhibit before our readers, and could neither 
make the perfection of the finished artist, nor the commen- 
cing stintedness nor rapid development of the art-loving 
beauty, visible to their eyes, yet still the description might 
not be altogether inefficient, and many genial and thought- 
exalting matters remained to be imparted. But here, where 
the business in hand is a great object, which one could have 
wished to see treated in the most precise manner, there is, 
unhappily, too little noted down ; and we cannot hope that a 
complete view will be attained from our communications. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 207 

Again, it is to be observed, that in the novel, as in uni- 
versal history, we have to straggle with uncertain computa- 
tions of time, and cannot always decisively fix what has 
happened sooner, and what later. We shall hold, therefore, 
by the surest points. 

That a year must have passed since Wilhelm left the 
pedagogic province is rendered certain by the circumstance 
that we now meet him at the festival to which he had been 
invited : but as our wandering renunciants sometimes unex- 
pectedly dive down and vanish from our sight, and then 
again emerge into view at a place where they were not 
looked for, it cannot be determined with certainty what track 
they have followed in the interim. 

Now, however, the traveller advances from the side of 
the plain country into the pedagogic province : he comes 
over fields and pasturages ; skirts, on the dry lea, many a 
little freshet ; sees bushy rather than woody hills ; a free 
prospect on all sides, over a surface but little undulated. 
On such tracks, he did not long doubt that he was in the 
horse-producing region ; and accordingly he failed not here 
and there to observe greater or smaller herds of mares and 
foals. But all at once the horizon darkens with a fierce 
cloud of dust, which, rapidly swelling nearer and nearer, 
covers all the breadth of the space, yet at last, rent asunder 
by a sharp side wind, is forced to disclose its interior 
tumult. 

At full gallop rushes forward a vast multitude of these 
noble animals, guided and held together by mounted keep- 
ers. The monstrous hurly-burly whirls past the wanderer : 
a fair boy among the keepers looks at him with surprise, 
pulls in, leaps down, and embraces his father. 

Now commences a questioning and answering : the boy re- 
lates that an agricultural life had not agreed with him ; the 
harvest-home he had, indeed, found delightful, but the subse- 
quent arrangements, the ploughing and digging, by no means 
so. This the superiors remark, and observe at the same 
time that he likes to employ himself with animals : they 
direct him to the useful and necessary domestic breeds, try 
him as a sequestered herdsman and keeper, and at last pro- 
mote him to the more lively equestrian occupation, where 
accordingly he now, himself a young foal, has to watch over 
foals, and to forward their good nourishment and training 
under the oversight of skilful comrades. 



208 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

Father and son, following the herd by various lone-lying 
spacious farm-yards, reached the town, or hamlet, near which 
the great annual market was held. Here rages an incredible 
confusion, in which it is hard to determine whether mer- 
chants or wares raise more dust. From all counties, pur- 
chasers assemble here to procure animals of noble blood and 
careful training : all the languages of the earth, /ou would 
fancy, meet your ear. Amid all this hubbub, toe, rises the 
lively sound of powerful wind instruments : every thing be- 
speaks motion, vigor, and life. 

The wanderer meets his overseer of last year, vho presents 
him to the others : he is even introduced to one of the Three, 
and by him, though only in passing, paternally and expres- 
sively saluted. 

Wilhelm, here again observing an example of exclusive 
culture and life-leading, expresses a desire to know in what 
else the pupils are practised, by way of counterpoise, that 
so in this wild, and, to a certain degree, savage occupation 
of feeding animals, the youth may not himself roughen into 
an animal. And, in answer, he is gratified to learn, that pre- 
cisely with this violent and rugged-looking occupation the 
so f test in the world is united, — the learning and practising 
of languages. 

"To this," it was said, " we have been induced by the 
circumstance, that there are youths from all quarters of the 
world assembled here : now, to prevent them from uniting, as 
usually happens when abroad, into national knots, and form- 
ing exclusive parties, we endeavor by a free communication 
of speech to approximate them. 

"Indeed, a general acquaintance with languages is here 
in some degree rendered necessary ; since, in our yearly 
market festivals, every foreigner wishes to converse in his 
own tones and idiom, and, in the course of cheapening and 
purchasing, to proceed with all possible convenience. Thai 
no Babylonish confusion of tongues, however, no corruption 
of speech, may arise from this practice, we employ a differ- 
ent language month by month, throughout the year ; accord 
ing to the maxim, t^at, in learning an}' thing, its first princi- 
ples alone should be taught b} r constraint. 

" We look upon our scholars," said the overseer, "as so 
many swimmers, who, in the element which threatened to 
swallow them, feel with astonishment that they are lighter, 
that it bears and carries them forward; and so it is with 
every thing that man undertakes. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 209 

" However, if any one of out young men show a special 
inclination for this or the other language, we neglect not, in 
the midst of this tumultuous-looking life, which nevertheless 
offers very many quiet, idly solitary, nay, tedious hours, to 
provide for his true and substantial instruction. Our riding 
grammarians, among whom there are even some pedagogues 
you would be surprised to discover among these bearded and 
beardless centaurs. Your Felix has turned himself to 
Italian ; and, in the monotonous solitude of his herdsman 
life, you shall hear him send forth many a dainty song with 
proper feeling and taste. Practical activity and expertness 
are far more compatible with sufficient intellectual culture 
than is generally supposed." 

Each of these districts was celebrating its peculiar festi- 
val, so the guest was now conducted to the instrumental 
music department. This tract, skirted by the level country, 
began from its very border to exhibit kind and beautifully 
changing valleys ; little trim woods ; soft brooks, by the side 
of which, among the sward, here and there a mossy crag 
modestly stood forth. Scattered, bush-encircled dwellings 
you might see on the hillsides : in soft hollows, the houses 
clustered nearer together. Those gracefully separated cot- 
tages lay so far apart, that neither tones nor mistones could 
be heard from one to the other. 

They now approached a wide space, begirt with buildings 
and shady trees, where crowded, man on man, all seemed on 
the stretch of expectation and attention. Just as the 
stranger entered, there was sent forth from all the instru- 
ments a grand symphony, the full, rich power and tenderness 
of which he could not out admire. Opposite the spacious 
main orchestra was a smaller one, which failed not to attract 
his notice : here stood various younger and elder scholars ; 
each held his instrument in readiness without playing : these 
were they who as yet could not, or durst not, join in with 
the whole. It was interesting to observe how they stood, as 
it were, on the start ; and our friend was informed that such 
a festival seldom passed over without some one or other of 
them suddenly developing his talent. 

As, among the instrumental, music singing was now intro- 
duced, no doubt could remain that this also was favored. 
To the question, What other sort of culture was here 
blended in kind union with the chief employment, our wan- 
derer learned, in reply, that it was poetry, and of the 
lyrical kind. In this matter it appeared their main concern 



210 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

was, that both arts should be developed, each for itself and 
from itself, but then also in contrast and combination with 
each other. The scholars were first instructed in each 
according to its own limitations, then taught how the two 
reciprocally limit, and again reciprocally free each other. 

To poetical rhythm the musical artist opposes measure 
of tone, and movement of tone. But here the mastery of 
Music over Poesy soon shows itself ; for if the latter, as 
is fit and necessary, keep her quantities never so steadily 
in view, still for the musician few syllables are decidedly 
short or long : at his pleasure he can overset the most consci- 
entious procedure of the rhythmer, — nay,. change prose itself 
into song ; from which, in truth, the richest possibilities 
present themselves : and the poet would soon feel himself 
annihilated if he could not, on his own side, by lyrical 
tenderness and boldness, inspire the musician with rever- 
ence, and, now in the softest sequence, now by the most 
abrupt transitions, awaken new feelings in the mind. 

The singers to be met with here are mostly poets them- 
selves. Dancing also is taught in its fundamental princi- 
ples, that so all these accomplishments may regularly spread 
themselves into every district. 

The guest, on being led across the next boundary, at 
once perceived an altogether different mode of building. 
The houses were no longer scattered into separation, no 
longer in the shape of cottages : they stood regularly united, 
beautiful in their exterior, spacious, convenient, and elegant 
within ; you here saw an unconfined, well-built, stately town, 
corresponding to the scene it stood in. Here the plastic 
arts, and the trades akin to them have their home ; and a 
peculiar silence reigns over these spaces . 

The plastic artist, it is true, must still figure himself as 
standing in relation to all that lives and moves among men ; 
but his occupation is solitary : and yet, by the strangest 
contradiction, there is, perhaps, no other that so decidedly 
requires a living accompaniment and society. Now, here, 
in that circle, is each in silence forming shapes that are 
forever to engage the eyes of men : a holida}' stillness 
reigns over the whole scene ; and did you not here and 
there catch the picking of stone-hewers, and the measured 
stroke of carpenters, who are now busily employed in finish- 
ing a lordly edifice, the air were unmoved by any sound. 

Our wanderer was struck, moveover, by the earnestness, 
the singular rigor, with which beginners, as well as more 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 211 

advanced pupils, were treated : it seemed as if no one, by 
his own power and judgment, accomplished any thing, but 
as if a secret spirit, striving towards one single great aim, 
pervaded and vivified them all. Nowhere did you observe a 
scheme or sketch : every stroke was drawn with forethought. 
As the wanderer inquired of his guide the reason of this 
peculiar procedure, he was told, " That imagination was, 
in itself, a vague, unstable power, which the whole merit of 
the plastic artist consisted in more and more determining, 
fixing, nay, at last exalting to visible presence." 

The necessity for sure principles in other arts was men- 
tioned. "Would the musician," it was said, "permit his 
scholar to dash wildly over the strings, — nay, to invent bars 
and intervals for himself at his own good pleasure? Here 
it is palpable that nothing can be left to the caprice of the 
learner : the element he is to work in is irrevocably given ; 
the implement he is to wield is put into his hands ; nay, the 
very way and manner of his using it, I mean the changing 
of the fingers, he finds prescribed to him ; so ordered that 
the one part of his hand shall give place to the other, and 
each prepare the proper path for its follower: by such 
determinate co-operation only can the impossible at last 
become possible. 

4 ' But what chiefly vindicates the practice of strict requi- 
sitions, of decided laws, is that genius, that native talent, 
is precisely the readiest to seize them, and yield them willing 
obedience. It is only the half -gifted that would wish to 
put his own contracted singularity in the place of the uncon- 
ditional whole, and justify his false attempts under cover 
of an unconstrainable originality and independence. To 
this we grant no currency : we guard our scholars from all 
such misconceptions, whereby a large portion of life, nay, 
often the whole of life, is apt to be perplexed and dis- 
jointed. 

" With genius we love most to be concerned, for this is 
animated just by that good spirit of quickly recognizing 
what is profitable for it. Genius understands that Art is 
called Art, because it is not Nature. Genius bends itself 
to respect even towards what may be named conventional ; 
for what is this but agreeing, as the most distinguished men 
have agreed, to regard the unalterable, the indispensable, 
as the best? And does not such submission always turn to 
good account? 

" Here, too, as in all our departments, to the great assist- 



212 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

ance of the teachers, our three reverences and their signs, 
with some changes suitable to the nature of the main em- 
ployment, have been introduced and inculcated." 

The wanderer, in his further survey, was surprised to 
observe that the town seemed still extending ; street unfold- 
ing itself from street, and so offering the most varied pros- 
pects. The exterior of the edifices corresponded to their 
destination : they were dignified and stately, not so much 
magnificent as beautiful. To the nobler and more earnest 
buildings in the centre of the town the more cheerful were 
harmoniously appended ; till, farther out, gay, decorated 
suburbs, in graceful style, stretched forth into the country, 
and at last separated into garden-houses. 

The stranger could not fail to remark that the dwellings 
of the musicians in the preceding district were by no 
means to be compared, in beauty or size, with the present, 
which painters, statuaries, and architects inhabited. He 
was told that this arose from the nature of the thing. The 
musician, ever shrouded in himself, must cultivate his in- 
most being, that so he may turn it outwards. The sense 
of the eye he may not flatter. The eye easily corrupts 
the judgment of the ear, and allures the spirit from the 
inward to the outward. Inversely, again, the plastic artist 
has to live in the external world, and to manifest his 
inward being, as it were, unconsciously, in and upon what 
is outward. Plastic artists should dwell like kings and 
gods : how else are they to build and decorate for kings 
and gods? They must at last so raise themselves above 
the common that the whole mass of a people may feel 
itself ennobled in and by their works. 

Our friend then begged an explanation of another para- 
dox. Why, at this time, so festive, so enlivening, so 
tumultuously excited, in the other regions, the great- 
est stillness prevailed here, and all labors were con- 
tinued ? 

"A plastic artist," it was answered, "needs no festival. 
When he has accomplished something excellent it stands, 
as it has long done before his own eye, now at last before 
the eye of the world. In his task he needed no repetition, 
no new effort, no fresh success ; whereas the musician con- 
stantly afflicts himself with all this : and to him, therefore^ 
the most splendid festival, in the most numerous assem- 
blage, should not be refused." 

"Yet, at such a season," replied Wilhelm, "something 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 213 

Jike an exhibition might be desirable, in which it would be 
pleasant to inspect and judge the triennial progress of your 
best pupils." 

u In other places," it was answered, " an exhibition may 
be necessary : with us it is not. Our whole being and 
nature is exhibition. Look round you at these buildings 
of every sort, all erected by our pupils, and this not with- 
out plans, a hundred times talked of and meditated ; for 
the builder must not grope and experiment : what is to 
continue standing must stand rightly, and satisfy, if not 
forever, yet at least for a long space of time. If we 
cannot help committing errors, we must build none. 

"With statuaries we proceed more laxly, most so of all 
with painters : to both we give liberty to try this and that, each 
in his own way. It stands in their power to select, in the 
interior or exterior compartments of edifices in public places, 
some space which they may incline to decorate. They give 
forth their ideas ; and, if these are in some degree to be ap- 
proved of, the completion of them is permitted, and this in 
two ways : either with liberty, sooner or later, to remove the 
w r ork, should it come to displease the artist ; or with the con- 
dition that what is once set up shall remain unalterable in its 
place. Most part choose the first of these offers, retaining 
in their own hands this power of removal ; and in the per- 
formance they constantly avail themselves of the best advice. 
The second case occurs seldomer ; and we then observe that 
the artist trusts less to himself, holds long conferences with 
companions and critics, and by this means produces works 
really estimable, and deserving to endure." 

After all this our traveller neglected not to ask, What 
other species of instruction was combined with the main one 
here? and received for answer, that it was poetry, and of 
the epic sort. 

This to our friend must have seemed a little singular, when 
he heard further that the pupils were not allowed to read or 
hear any finished poems by ancient or modern poets. " We 
merely impart to them," it was said, " a series of mythuses, 
traditions, and legends, in the most laconic form. And now, 
from the pictorial or poetic execution of these subjects, we 
at once discover the peculiar productive gift of the genius 
devoted to the one or the other art. Both poet and painter 
thus labor at the same fountain ; and each endeavors to draw 
off the water to his own side to his own advantage, and at- 
tain his own required objects with it ; in which he succeeds 



214 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

much better than if he attempted again to fashion something 
that has been fashioned already." 

The traveller himself had an opportunity of seeing how 
this was accomplished : several painters were busy in a room ; 
a gay young friend was relating with great minuteness a very 
simple story ; so that he employed almost as many words as 
the others did pencil-strokes, to complete the same exhibi- 
tion, and round it fully off. 

He was told, that, in working together, the friends were 
wont to carry on much pleasant conversation ; and that in 
Aiis way several improvisatori had unfolded their gifts, and 
succeeded in exciting great enthusiasm for this twofold mode 
of representation. 

Our friend now reverted his inquiries to the subject of 
plastic art. " You have no exhibition," said he, " and 
therefore, I suppose, give no prize either? " 

" No," said the other, " we do not; but here, close by, 
we can show you something which we reckon more useful." 

They entered a large hall, appropriately lighted from 
above : a wide circle of busy artists first attracted the eye ; 
and from the midst of these rose a colossal group of figures, 
elevated with pleasing effect in the centre of the place. Male 
and female forms, of gigantic power, in violent postures, re- 
minded one of that lordly fight between heroic youths and 
Amazons, wherein hate and enmity at last issue in mutually 
regretful alliance. This strikingly intertwisted piece of art 
presented an equally favorable aspect from every point of 
its circuit. In a wide ring round it were many artists sitting 
and standing, each occupied in his own way, — the painter at 
his easel, the drawer at his sketch-board : some were model- 
ling it in full, others in bas-relief : there were even architects 
engaged in planning the pedestal, on which a similar group, 
when wrought in marble, was to be erected. Each individ- 
ual was proceeding by his own method in this task : painters 
and drawers were bringing out the group to a plain surface, 
careful, however, not to destroy its figures, but to retain as 
much of it as possible. In the same manner were works in 
bas-relief going forward. One man only had repeated the 
whole group in a miniature scale, and in certain movements 
and arrangements of limbs he really seemed to have sur- 
passed his model. 

And now it came out that this man was the maker of the 
model ; who, before working it in marble, had here submit- 
ted his performance, not to a critical, but to a practical trial, 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 2±5 

and by accurately observing whatever any of his fellow-artists 
in his special department and way of thought might notice, 
retain, or alter in the group, was purposing, in subsequent 
consideration, to turn all this to his own profit; so that, 
when at length the grand work stood finished in marble, 
though undertaken, planned, and executed by one, it might 
seem to belong to all. 

The greatest silence reigned throughout this apartment 
also ; but the superior raised his voice, and cried, " Is there 
any of you, then, who, in presence of this stationary work, 
can, with gifted words, so awaken our imagination, that all 
we here see concreted shall again become fluid, without losing 
its character, and so convince us that what our artist has 
here laid hold of was indeed the worthiest?" 

Called forth on all sides by name, a fair youth laid down 
his work, and, as he stepped forward, began a quiet speech, 
seemingly intended merely to describe the present group of 
figures ; but erelong he cast himself into the region of poetry, 
plunged into the middle of the action, and ruled this element 
like a master : by degrees his representation so swelled and 
mounted by lordly words and gestures, that the rigid group 
seemed actually to move about its axis, and the number of 
its figures to be doubled and trebled. Wilhelm stood en- 
raptured, and at last exclaimed, " Can we now forbear pass- 
ing over into song itself, into rhythmic melody ? ' ' 

4 ' This I should wish to deprecate," said the overseer; 
"for, if our excellent statuary will be candid, he will confess 
to us that our poet scarcely pleases him ; and this because 
their arts lie in the most opposite regions : on the other hand, 
I durst bet, that here and "there a painter has not failed to 
appropriate some living touches from the speech. 

" A soft, kindly song, however, I could wish our friend to 
hear : there is one, for instance, which you sing to an air so 
jovely and earnest ; it turns on art in general, and I myself 
never listen to it without pleasure." 

After a pause, in which they beckoned to each other, and 
settled their arrangements by signs, the following heart and 
spirit stirring song resounded in stately melody from all 
sides : — 



" While inventing and effecting, 
Artist by thyself continue long: 
The result art thou expecting, 
Haste, and see it in the throng. 



216 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

Here in others look, discover 
What thy own life's course has been; 

And thy deeds of years past over, 
In thy fellow-man be seen. 

The devising, the uniting, 

What and how the forms shall be, 
One thing will the other lighten, 

And at last comes joy to thee ! 
Wise and true what thou impartest, 

Fairly shaped, and softly done : 
Thus of old the cunning artist 

Artist-like his glory won. 

As all Nature's thousand changes 

But one changeless God proclaim ; 
So in Art's wide kingdoms ranges 

One sole meaning still the same: 
This is Truth, eternal Reason, 

Which from Beauty takes its dress, 
And, serene through time and season, 

Stands for aye in loveliness. 

While the orator, the singer, 

Pour their hearts in rhyme and prose, 
'Neath the painter's busy finger 

Shall bloom forth Life's cheerful rose, 
Girt with sisters, in the middle, 

And with Autumn's fruitage blent; 
That of life's mysterious riddle 

Some short glimpses may be hent. 

Thousand-fold and graceful, show thou 

Form from forms evolving fair; 
And of man's bright image know thou 

That a God once tarried there : 
And, whate'er your tasks or prizes, 

Stand as brethren one and all ; 
While, like song, sweet incense rises 

From the altar at your call." 

All this Wilhelm could not but let pass, though it must 
have seemed paradoxical enough, and, had he not seen it 
with his eyes, might even have appeared impossible. But 
now, when it was explained and pointed out to him, openly 
and freely, and in fair sequence, he scarcely needed to put 
any further question on the subject. However, he at last 
addressed his conductor as follows : " I see here a most pru- 
dent provision made for much that is desirable in life ; but 
tell me further, which of your regions exhibits a similar at- 
tention to dramatic poetry, and where could I instruct my- 
self in that matter? I have looked round over all your 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 217 

edifices, and observed none that seemed destined for such an 
object. ' ' 

" In reply to this question, we must not hide from you, 
that, in our whole province, there is no such edifice to be 
seen. The drama presupposes the existence of an idle mul- 
titude, perhaps even of a populace ; and no such class finds 
harbor with us : for birds of that feather, when they do not 
in spleen forsake us of their own accord, we soon take care 
to conduct over the marches. Doubt not, however, that in 
our Institution, so universal in its character, this point was 
carefully meditated ; but no region could be found for the 
purpose, everywhere some important scruple came in the way. 
Indeed, who among our pupils could readily determine, with 
pretended mirth or hypocritical sorrow, to excite in the rest 
a feeling untrue in itself, and alien to the moment, for the 
sake of calling forth an always dubious satisfaction ? Such 
juggleries we reckoned in all cases dangerous, and could not 
reconcile with our earnest objects." 

" It is said, however," answered Wilhelm, " that this far- 
stretching art promotes all the rest of whatever sort." 

" Nowise," answered the other : "it employs the rest, but 
spoils them. I do not blame a player for uniting himself 
with a painter ; but the painter, in such society, is lost. 
Without any conscience, the player will lay hold of whatever 
art or life presents him, and use it for his fugitive objects, 
indeed, with no small profit : the painter, again, who could 
wish in return to extract advantage from the theatre, will 
constantly find himself a loser by it ; and so also in the like 
case will the musician. The combined arts appear to me 
like a family of sisters, of whom the greater part were in- 
clined to good economy, but one was light-headed, and desir- 
ous to appropriate and squander the whole goods and chattels 
of the household. The theatre is this wasteful sister : it has 
an ambiguous origin, which in no case, whether as art or 
trade or amusement, it can wholly conceal." 

Wilhelm cast his eyes on the ground with a deep sigh : for 
all that he had enjoyed or suffered on the stage rose at once 
before his mind ; and he blessed the good men who were wise 
enough to spare their pupils such pain, and, out of principle 
and conviction, to banish such errors from their sphere. 

His attendant, however, did not leave him long in these 
meditations, but continued, "As it is our highest and holiest 
principle, that no talent, no capacity, be misdirected, we can- 
not hide from ourselves, that, among so large a number, here 



218 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

and there a mimical gift will sometimes decidedly come to 
light ; exhibiting itself in an irresistible desire to ape the 
characters, forms, movements, speech, of others. This we 
certainly do not encourage : but we observe our pupil 
strictly ; and, if he continue faithful to his nature, then we 
have already established an intercourse with the great 
theatres of all nations ; and so thither we send any youth 
of tried capability, that, as the duck on the pond, so he on 
the boards, may be forthwith conducted, full speed, to the 
future quack-quacking, and gibble-gabbling, of his life." 

Wilhelm heard this with patience, but only with half con- 
viction, perhaps with some spleen : for so strangely is man 
tempered, that he may be persuaded of the worthlessness of 
any darling object, may turn away from it, nay, even exe- 
crate it, but yet will not see it treated in this way by others ; 
and perhaps the spirit of Contradiction, which dwells in all 
men, never rouses itself more vehemently and stoutly than 
in such cases. 

And the editor of these sheets may himself confess that he 
lets not this strange passage through his hands without some 
touch of anger. Has not he, too, in many senses, expended 
more life and faculty than was right on the theatre ? And 
would these men convince him that this has been an unpar- 
donable error, a fruitless toil? 

But we have no time for appending, in splenetic mood, 
such remembrances and after-feelings to the narrative ; for 
our friend now finds himself agreeably surprised, as one of 
the Three, and this a particularly prepossessing one, again 
comes before his eyes. Kind, open meekness, announcing 
the purest peace of soul, came in its refreshing effluences 
along with him. Trustfully the wanderer could approach, 
and feel his trust returned. 

Here he now learned that the chief was at present in the 
sanctuary, instructing, teaching, blessing ; while the Three 
had separated to visit all the regions, and everywhere, after 
most thorough information obtained, and conferences with 
the subordinate overseers, to forward what was in progress, 
to found what Was newly planned, and thereby faithfully dis- 
charge their high duty. 

This same excellent person now gave him a more compre- 
hensive view of their internal situation and external connec- 
tions ; explained to him the mutual influences of one region 
on another ; and also by what steps, after a longer or a 
shorter date,. a pupil could be transferred from the one to 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 219 

the other. All this harmonized completely with what ha 
already knew. At the same time he was much gratified by 
the description given of his son, and their further plan of 
education met with his entire approval. 

He was now, by the assistants and overseer, invited to a 
miners' festival, which was forthwith to be celebrated. The 
ascent of the mountains was difficult ; and Wilhelm fancied 
he observed that his guide walked even slower towards even- 
ing, as if the darkness had not been likely to obstruct their 
path still more. But, when deep night came round them, this 
enigma was solved : our wanderer observed little flames come 
glimmering and wavering forth from many dells and chasms, 
gradually stretch themselves into lines, and roll over the sum- 
mits of the mountains. Much kindlier than when a volcano 
opens, and its belching roar threatens whole countries with 
destruction, did this fair light appear ; and yet, by degrees, 
it glowed with new brightness ; grew stronger, broader, more 
continuous ; glittered like a stream of stars, soft and lovely 
indeed, yet spreading boldly over all the scene. 

After the attendant had a little while enjoyed the surprise 
of his guest, — for they could clearly enough observe each 
other, their faces and forms, as well as their path, being illu- 
minated by the light from the distance, — he began, " You 
see here, in truth, a curious spectacle : these lights which, 
day and night, the whole year over, gleam and work under 
ground, forwarding the acquisition of concealed and scarcely 
attainable treasures, these now mount and well forth from 
their abysses, and gladden the upper night. Scarcely could 
one anywhere enjoy so brave a review as here, where this most 
useful occupation, which, in its subterranean concealment, is 
dispersed and hidden from the eye, rises before us in its full 
completeness, and bespeaks a great secret combination." 

Amid such speeches and thoughts they had reached the 
spot where these fire-brooks poured themselves into a sea of 
flame surrounding a well-lighted insular space. The wan- 
derer placed himself in the dazzling circle, within which glit- 
tering lights by thousands formed an imposing contrast with 
the miners, ranked round it like a dark wall. Forthwith 
arose the gayest music as accompaniment to becoming songs. 
Hollow masses of rock came forward on machinery, and 
opened a resplendent interior to the eye of the delighted 
spectator. Mimetic exhibitions, and whatever else at such a 
moment can gratify the multitude^ combined with all this at 
once to excite and to satisfy a cheerful attention. 



220 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

But with what astonishment was Wilhelm filled when, on 
being introduced to the superiors, he observed friend Jarno 
in solemn, stately robes among the number. " Not in vain," 
cried Jarno, "have I changed my former name with the 
more expressive title of Montan : thou findest me here initi- 
ated in mountain and cave ; and now, if questioned, I could 
disc&ose and explain to thee much that a year ago was still a 
riddle to myself." 

At this point our manuscripts forsake us : of the conver- 
sation of these friends there is nothing specified ; as little 
can we discover the connection of what follows next, — an 
incident of which in the same bundle, in the same paper, we 
find brief notice : That a meeting had taken place between 
our wanderer and Lothario and the abbe\ Unhappily, in this, 
as in so many other leaves, the date has been neglected. 

Some passages, introduced rather in the way of exclama- 
tion than of narrative, point to the high meaning of renun- 
ciation, by which alone the first real entrance into life is 
conceivable. Then we come upon a map, marked with sev- 
eral arrows pointing towards one another ; and along with 
this we find, in a certain sequence, several days of the month 
written down : so that we might fancy ourselves again walk- 
ing in the real world, and moderately certain as to the next 
part of our friend's route, were it not that here also various 
marks and ciphers, appended in different ways, awoke some 
fear that a secret meaning at the bottom of it would forever 
lie hid from us. 

But what drives us out of all historical composure is the 
strange circumstance, that, immediately on all this, there 
comes in the most improbable narration, of a sort like those 
tales whereby you long keep the hearer's curiosity on the 
stretch with a series of wonders, and at last explain, That 
you were talking of a dream. However, we shall communi- 
cate without change what lies before us : — 

" If hitherto we had continued in the metalliferous part of 
the mountains, which, externally, is soft, and by no means 
of a wild aspect, I was now conducted through precipitous 
and scarcely passable rocks and chasms : at last I gained the 
topmost summit, — a cliff, the peak of which afforded room 
only for a single person, who, if he looked down from it 
into the horrid depth, might see furious mountain torrents 
foaming through black abysses. In the present cafe I looked 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 221 

down without giddiness or terror, for I was light of heart ; 
but now my attention fixed itself on some huge crags rising 
opposite me, precipitous like my own, yet offering on their 
summits a larger space of level. Though parted by a mon- 
strous chasm, the jutting masses came so near together that 
I could distinctly enough, with the naked eye, observe sev- 
eral persons assembled on the summit. They were, for most 
part, ladies, one of whom, coming forward to the very 
verge, awakened in me double and treble anxiety ; as I be- 
came completely convinced that it was Natalia herself. The 
danger of such an unexpected interview increased every 
moment ; but it grew boundless when a perspective came 
before my eyes, and brought me over to her, and her over to 
me. There is something magical at all times in perspectives. 
Were we not accustomed from youth to look through them, 
we should shudder and tremble every time we put them to 
our eyes. It is we who are looking, and it is not we : a 
being it is whose organs are raised to a higher pitch, whose 
limitations are done away, who has become entitled to 
stretch forth into infinitude. 

"When, for example, we observe far-distant persons, by 
means of such an instrument, and see them in unsuspicious 
thoughtlessness following their business as if they were 
solitary and unwatched, we could almost feel afraid lest they 
might discover us, and indignantly upbraid us for our treach- 
erous curiosity. 

" And so likewise did I, hemmed in by a strange feeling, 
waver between proximity and distance, and from instant to 
instant alternate between the two. 

" Those others in their turn had observed us, as a signal 
with a white handkerchief put beyond a doubt. For a mo- 
ment I delayed in my answer to it, finding myself thus close 
beside the being whom I adored. This is her pure, benign 
form : these are her taper arms, which once so helpfully ap- 
peared before me, after unblessed sorrows and perplexities, 
and at last, too, though but for moments, sympathizingly 
embraced me. 

" I saw distinctly enough that she, too, had a perspective, 
and was looking over to me ; and I failed not, by such 
tokens as stood at my command, to express the profession of 
a true and heartfelt attachment. 

" And as experience teaches that remote objects, which we 
have once clearly recognized through a perspective, after- 
wards appear, even to the naked eye, as if standing" shaped 



222 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

in distinct nearness, be it that more accurate knowledge 
sharpens the sense, or that imagination supplies what is 
wanting ; so now did I see this beloved being as accurately 
and distinctly as if I could have touched her, though her 
company continued still irrecognizable. And as I was 
trampling round my narrow station, struggling towards her 
the more, the abyss was like to swallow me, had not a help- 
ful hand laid hold of mine, and snatched me at once from 
my danger and my fairest happiness. " 



CHAPTER XV. 

Here at last we again step on firmer ground, the localities 
of which we can settle with some probability ; though still 
here and there on our way there occur a few uncertainties, 
which it is not in our power altogether to clear up. 

As Wilhelm, in order to reach any point of the line marked 
out by the first arrow, had to proceed obliquely through the 
country, he found himself necessitated to perform the jour- 
ney on foot, leaving his luggage to be carried after him. 
For this walk of his, however, he was richly rewarded ; meet- 
ing at every step, quite unexpectedly, with loveliest tracts of 
scenery. They were of that sort which the last slope of a 
mountain region forms in its meeting with the plain country ; 
bushy hills, their soft declivities employed in domestic use ; 
all level spaces green ; nowhere aught steep, unfruitful, or 
un ploughed to be noticed. Erelong he reached the main 
valley, into which the side-waters flowed ; and this, too, was 
carefully cultivated, graceful when you looked over it, with 
taper trees marking the bends of the river, and of the brooks 
which poured into it. On looking at his map, his indicator, 
he observed with surprise that the line drawn for him cut 
directly through this valley ; so that, in the first place, he 
was at least on the right road. 

An old castle, in good repair, and seemingly built at differ- 
ent periods, stood forth on a bushy hill, at the foot of which 
a gay hamlet stretched along, with its large inn rising promi- 
nent among the other houses. Hither he proceeded, and 
was received by the landlord kindly enough, yet with an ex- 
cuse that he could not be admitted, unless by the permission 



MEISTEITS TRAVELS. 228 

of a part}' who had hired the whole establishment for a time ; 
on which account he, the landlord, was under the necessity 
of sending all his guests to the older inn, which lay farther 
up the hamlet. After a short conference, the man seemed 
to bethink himself, and said, u Indeed* there is no one of 
them at home even now : but this is Saturday, and the 
bailiff will not fail to be here soon ; he comes every week to 
settle the accounts of the last, and make arrangements for 
the next. Truly, there is a fair order reigns among these 
men, and a pleasure in having to do with them, though they 
are strict enough ; for, if they yield one no great profit, it is 
sure and constant." He then desired his new guest to 
amuse himself in the large upper hall, and await what further 
might occur. 

Here Wilhelm, on entering, found a large, clean apart- 
ment, except for benches and tables altogether empty. So 
much the more was he surprised to see a large tablet inserted 
above one of the doors, with these words marked on it in 
golden letters, Ubi homines sunt modisimt; which in modern 
tongue may signify, that, where men combine in society, the 
way and manner in which they like to be and to continue 
together is directly established. This motto made our 
wanderer think : he took it as a good omen ; finding here, 
expressed and confirmed, a principle which he had often, in 
the course of life, perceived for himself to be furthersome 
and reasonable. He had not waited long when the bailiff 
made his appearance ; who, being forewarned by the landlord, 
after a short conversation, and no very special scrutiny, ad- 
mitted Wilhelm on the following terms ! To continue three 
days ; to participate quietly in whatever should occur ; and, 
happen what might, to ask no questions about the reason ; 
and, at taking leave, to ask none about the score. All this 
our traveller was obliged to comply with, the deputy not be- 
ing allowed to yield in a single point. 

The bailiff was about retiring, when a sound of vocal 
music rolled up the stairs : two pretty young men entered 
singing ; and these the bailiff, by a simple sign, gave to 
understand that their guest was accepted. Without inter- 
rupting their song, they kindly saluted the stranger, and 
continued their duet with tae finest grace ; showing clearly 
enough that they were well trained, and complete masters of 
their art. As Wilhelm testified the most attentive interest, 
they paused, and inquired, If in his own pedestrian wander- 
ings no song ever occurred to him, which he went along 



224 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

singing by himself? "A good voice," answered Wilhelm, 
" Nature has in truth denied me: yet I often feel as if a 
secret Genius were whispering some rhythmic words in nry 
ear ; so that, in walking, I move to musical measure ; fancy- 
ing, at the same time, that I hear low tones accompanying 
some song, which, in one way or another, has pleasantly 
risen before me." 

" If you recollect such a song, write it down for us," said 
they : " we shall see if we have skill to accompany your 
singing-demon." He took a leaf from his note-book, and 
handed them the following lines : — 

" From the mountains to the champaign, 

By the glens and hills along, 
Comes a rustling and a tramping, 

Comes a motion as of song ; 
And this undetermined roving 

Brings delight, and brings good heed: 
And thy striving, be 't with loving, 

And thy living, be 't in deed! " 

After brief study, there arose at once a gay, marching 
melody, which, in its repetition and restriction still stepping 
forward, hurried on the hearer with it : he was in doubt 
whether this was his own tune, his former theme, or one 
now for the first time so fitted to the words, that no other 
movement was conceivable. The singers had for some time 
pleasantly proceeded in this manner, when two stout young 
fellows came in, whom, by their accoutrements, you directly 
recognized as masons ; two others, who followed them, being 
as evidently carpenters. These four, softly laying down 
their tools, listened to the music, and soon struck in with 
sure and decided voices ; so that to the mind it seemed as if 
a real wayfaring company were stepping along over hill and 
valley : and Wilhelm thought he had never heard any thing so 
graceful, so enlivening to heart and mind. This enjoyment, 
however, was to be increased yet further, and raised to the 
highest pitch, by the entrance of a gigantic figure, mounting 
the stairs with a hard, firm tread, which, with all his efforts, 
he could scarcely moderate. A heavy-laden dorsel he directly 
placed in the corner: himself he seated on a bench. which 
beginning to creak under his weight, the others laughed, yet 
without going wrong in their music. Wilhelm, however, was 
exceedingly surprised, when, with a huge bass voice, this 
son of Anak joined in also. The hall quivered ; and it 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 225 

was to be observed, that in his part he altered the burden, 
and sang it thus : — 

"Life 's no resting, but a moving: 
Let thy life be deed on deed!" 

Further, you could very soon perceive that he was drawing 
down the time to a slower step, and forcing the rest to follow 
him. Of this, when at last they were satisfied and had con- 
cluded, they accused him ; declaring he had tried to set them 
wrong. 

" Not at all ! " cried he : " it is you who tried to set me 
wrong, to put me out of my own step, which must be meas- 
ured and sure, if I am to walk with my loading up hill and 
down dale, and yet, in the end, arrive at my appointed hour, 
to satisfy your wants." 

One after the other these persons now passed into an ad- 
joining room to the bailiff, and Wilhelm easily observed that 
they were occupied in settling accounts, — a point, however, 
as to which he was not allowed at present to inquire further. 
Two fair, lively boys in the mean while entered, and began 
covering a table in all speed, moderately furnishing it with 
meat and wine ; and the bailiff, coming out, invited them all 
to sit down along with him. The boys waited, yet forgot 
not their own concern, but enjoyed their share in a standing 
posture. Wilhelm recollected witnessing similar scenes dur- 
ing his abode among the players ; yet the present company 
seemed to be of a much more serious cast, constituted, not 
out of sport, for show, but with a view to important concerns 
of life. 

The conversation of the craftsmen with the bailiff added 
strength to this conviction. These four active young people, 
it appeared, were busy in the neighborhood, where a violent 
conflagration had destroyed the fairest village in the country ; 
nor did Wilhelm fail to learn that the worthy bailiff was em- 
ployed in getting timber and other building materials : all 
which looked the more enigmatical, as none of these persons 
seemed to be resident here, but in all other points announced 
themselves as transitory strangers. By way of conclusion 
to the meal, St. Christopher — such was the name they gave 
the giant — brought out, for good- night, a dainty glass of 
wine, which had before been set aside : a gay choral song 
kept the party still some time together, after they were out 
of sight ; and then Wilhelm was at last conducted to a cham- 

8— Goethe Vol 8 



226 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

ber of the loveliest aspect and situation. The full moon, en- 
lightening a rich plain, was already up ; and in the bosom 
of our wanderer it awoke remembrances of similar scenes. 
The spirits of all dear friends hovered past him : especially 
the image of Lenardo rose in him so vividly, that he might 
have fancied the man himself was standing before his eyes. 
All this had prepared him with its kind influences for nightly 
rest, when, on a sudden, there arose a tone of so strange a 
nature, that it almost frightened him. It sounded as from 
a distance, and yet seemed to be in the house itself ; for the 
building quivered many times, and the floors reverberated 
when the sound rose to its highest pitch. Wilhelrn, though 
his ear was usually delicate in discriminating tones, could 
make nothing of this : he compared it to the droning roar of 
a huge organ-pipe, which, for sheer compass, produces no 
determinate note. Whether this nocturnal terror passed away 
towards morning, or Wilhelm by degrees became accustomed 
to the sound, and no longer heeded it, is difficult to discover : 
at any rate, he fell asleep, and was in due time pleasantly 
awakened by the rising sun. 

Scarcely had one of the boys, who were in waiting, brought 
him breakfast, when a figure entered, whom he had already 
noticed last night at supper, without clearly ascertaining his 
quality. A well-formed, broad-shouldered, yet nimble man, 
who now, by the implements which he spread out, announced 
himself as barber, and forthwith prepared for performing his 
much-desired office on Wilhelm. For the rest, he was quite 
silent ; and with a light hand he went through his task, with- 
out once having opened his lips. Wilhelm, therefore, began, 
and said, "Of your art you are completely master, and I 
know not that I have ever had a softer razor on my cheeks : 
at the same time, however, you appear to be a strict observer 
of the laws of the society." 

Roguishly smiling, laying his finger on his lips, the taciturn 
ehaver glided through the door. "By my sooth!" cried 
Wilhelm after him, " I think you must be old Redcloak ; if 
not himself, at least a descendant of his : it is lucky for you 
that you ask no counter service of me ; your turn would have 
been but sorrily done." 

No sooner had this curious personage retired than the well- 
known bailiff came in, inviting our friend to dinner for this 
day, in words which sounded pretty strange : the Bond, so 
said the speaker, expressly, gave the stranger welcome, re- 
quested his company at dinnerj and took pleasure in the 






MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 227 

hope of being more closely connected with him. Inquiries 
were then made as to the guest's health, and how he was 
contented with his entertainment ; to all which he could only 
answer in terms of satisfaction. He would, in truth, have 
liked much to ask of this man, as previously of the silent 
barber, some information touching the horrid sound which 
throughout the night had, if not tormented, at least discom- 
posed him : but, mindful of his engagement, he forbore all 
questions ; hoping, that without importunity, from the good 
will of the society, or in some other accidental way, he 
might be informed according to his wishes. 

Our friend now, when left alone, began to reflect on the 
strange person who had sent him this invitation, and knew 
not well what to make of the matter. To designate one or 
more superiors by a neuter noun seemed to him a somewhat 
precarious mode of speech. For the rest, there was such a 
stillness all round that he could not recollect of ever having 
passed a stiller Sunday. He went out of doors, and, hear- 
ing a sound of bells, walked towards the village. Mass was 
just over ; and, among the villagers and country people 
crowding out of church, he observed three acquaintances of 
last night, — a mason, a carpenter, and a boy. Farther on he 
met among the Protestant worshippers the other correspond- 
ing three. How the rest managed their devotion was un- 
known to him ; but so much he thought himself entitled to 
conclude, that in this society a full religious toleration was 
practised. 

About mid-day, at the castle-gate, he was met by the 
bailiff, who then conducted him through various halls into 
a large ante-chamber, and there desired him to take a seat. 
Many persons passed through into an adjoining hall. Those 
already known were to be seen among them ; St. Christopher 
himself went by : all saluted the bailiff and the stranger, 
But what struck our friend most in this affair was, that the 
whole party seemed to consist of artisans, all dressed in 
the usual fashion, though extremely neat and clean : a few 
among the number you might at most, perhaps, have reckoned 
of the clerk species. 

No more guests now making their appearance, the bailiff 
led our friend through the stately door into a spacious hall. 
Here a table of immense length had been covered, past the 
lower end of which he was conducted towards the head, where 
he saw three persons standing in a cross direction. But what 
was his astonishment when he approached, and Lenardo, 



228 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

scarcely yet recognized, fell upon his neck. From this sur- 
prise he had not recovered when another person, with no less 
warmth and vivacity, likewise embraced him ; announcing 
himself as our strange Friedrich, Natalia's brother. The 
rapture of these friends diffused itself over all present : an 
exclamation of joy and blessing sounded along the whole 
table. But in a moment, the company being seated, all again 
became silent ; and the repast, served up with a certain so- 
lemnity, was enjoyed in like manner. 

Towards the conclusion of the ceremony Lenardo gave a 
sign : two singers rose, and Wilhelm was exceedingly sur- 
prised to hear in this place his yesternight's song ; which 
we, for the sake of what follows, shall beg permission to 
insert once more : — 

" From the mountains to the champaign, 

By the glens and hills along, 
Comes a rustling and a tramping, 

Comes a motion as of song; 
And this undetermined roving 

Brings delight, and brings good heed: 
And thy striving, be 't with loving, 

And thy living, be 't in deed! " 

Scarcely had this duet, accompanied by a chorus of agree- 
able number, approached its conclusion, when two other 
singers on the opposite side started up impetuously, and, 
with earnest vehemence, inverted rather than continued the 
song ; to Wilhelm 's astonishment, proceeding thus : — 

" For the tie is snapped asunder, 

Trust and loving hope are fled I 
Can I tell, in fear and wonder, 

With what dangers now bested? 
I, cut off from friend and brother, 

Like the widow in her woe, 
With the one and not the other, 

On and on, my way must go! " 

The chorus, taking up this strophe, grew more and more 
numerous, more and more vociferous ; and yet the voice of 
St. Christopher, from the bottom of the table, could still be 
distinctly recognized among them. The lamentation in the 
end rose almost to be frightful : a spirit of dispiritment, 
combining with the skilful execution of the singers, intro- 
duced something unnatural into the whole ; so that it pained 
our friend, and almost made him shudder. In truth, they all 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 220 

seemed perfectly of one mind, and as if lamenting their own 
fate on the eve of a separation. The strange repetitions, the 
frequent resuscitation of a fatiguing song, at length became 
dangerous in the eyes of the Bond itself : Lenardo rose ; and 
all instantly sat down, abruptly breaking off their hymn. 
The other, with friendly words, thus began : — 

" Indeed, I cannot blame you for continually recalling to 
your minds the destiny which stands before us all, that so, 
at any hour, you may be ready for it. If aged and life- 
weary men have called to their neighbors, Think of dying ! 
we younger and life-loving men may well keep encouraging 
and reminding one another with the cheerful words, Think 
of wandering ! Yet, withal, of a thing which we either vol- 
untarily undertake, or believe ourselves constrained to, it 
were well to speak with cheerfulness and moderation. You 
yourselves know best what, in our situation, is fixed, and 
what is movable : let us enjoy the former, too, in sprightly 
and gay tones ; and to its success be this parting cup now 
drunk ! ' ' He emptied his glass and sat down : the four 
singers instantly rose, and in flowing, connected tones, thus 
began : — 

" Keep not standing, fixed and rooted, 

Briskly venture, briskly roam : 
Head and hand, where'er thou foot it, 

And stout heart, are still at home. 
In each land the sun does visit : 

We are gay whate'er betide. 
To give room for wand' ring is it 

That the world was made so wide." 

As the chorus struck in with its repetition of these lines, 
Lenardo rose, with him all the rest. His nod set the whole 
company into singing movement : those at the lower end 
marched out, St. Christopher at their head, in pairs through 
the hall ; and the uplifted wanderers' song grew clearer and 
freer the farther they proceeded ; producing at last a partic- 
ularly good effect when from the terraces of the castle garden 
you looked down over the broad valley, in whose fulness and 
beauty you might well have liked to lose yourself. While 
the multitude were dispersing this way and that, according 
to their pleasure, WilLelm was made acquainted with the 
third superior. This was the Amtmann, by whose kind in- 
fluence many favors had been done the society ; in particular, 
the castle of his patron, the count, situated among several 
families of rank, had been given up to their use so long as 
they might think fit to tarry here. 



230 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

Towards evening, while the friends were in a far-seeing 
grove, there came a portly figure over the threshold, whom 
Wilhelm at once recognized as the barber of this morning. 
To a low, mute bow of the man, Lenardo answered, u You 
now come, as alwaj^s, at the right season, and will not delay 
to entertain us with your talent. I may be allowed," con- 
tinued he, turning towards Wilhelm, " to give you some 
knowledge of our society, the Bond of which I may flatter 
myself that I am. No one enters our circle unless he have 
some talents to show, which may contribute to the use or 
enjoyment of society in general. This man is an excellent 
surgeon ; of his skill as a beard-artist you yourself can tes- 
tify : for these reasons, he is no less welcome than necessary 
to us. Now, as his employment usually brings with it a great 
and often burdensome garrulity, he has engaged, for the sake 
of his own culture, to comply with a certain condition ; as, 
indeed, every one that means to live with us must agree to 
constrain himself in some particular point, if the greater 
freedom be left him in all other points. Accordingly, our 
barber has renounced the use of his tongue, in so far as 
aught common or casual is to be expressed by it : but, by 
this means, another gift of speech has been unfolded in him, 
which acts by forethought, cunningly and pleasurably ; I 
mean the gift of narration. 

" His life is rich in wonderful experiences, which he used 
to split in pieces, babbling of them at wrong times ; but which 
he now, constrained by silence, repeats and arranges in his 
quiet thought. This also his power of imagination now for- 
wards, lending life and movement to past occurrences. With 
no common art and skill, he can relate to us genuine antique 
tales, or modern stories of the same fabulous cast ; thereby, 
at the right hour, affording us a most pleasant entertainment, 
when I loose his tongue for him, — which I now do ; giving 
him, at the same time, this praise, that, in the considerable 
period during which I have known him, he has never once 
been guilty of a repetition. I cannot but hope, that in the 
present case, for love and respect to our dear guest, he will 
especially distinguish himself." 

A sprightly cheerfulness spread over Redcloak's face ; and, 
without delay, he began speaking as follows. 






MEISTER'S TRAVELS, -31 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE NEW MELUSINA. 

" Respected gentlemen ! Being aware that preliminary 
speeches and introductions are not much to your taste, I shall 
without further talk assure you, that, in the present instance, 
I hope to fulfil your commission moderately well. From me 
has many a true history gone forth already, to the high and 
universal satisfaction of hearers ; but to-day I may assert, 
that I have one to tell which far surpasses the former, and 
which, though it happened to me several years ago, still dis- 
quiets me in recollecting it, nay, still gives hope of some 
further development. 

" By way of introduction, let me confess, that I have not 
always so arranged my scheme of life as to be certain of the 
next period in it, or even of the next day. In my youth, 
I was no first-rate economist, and often found myself in 
manifold perplexity. At one time I undertook a journey, 
thinking to derive good profit in the course of it ; but the 
scale I went upon was too liberal : and after having com- 
menced my travel with extra-post, and then prosecuted it for 
a time in the diligence, I at last found myself obliged to front 
the end of it on foot. 

"Like a gay young blade, it had been from of old my 
custom, on entering any inn, to look round for the landlady, 
or even the cook, and wheedle myself into favor with her; 
whereby, for most part, my shot was somewhat reduced. 

" One night at dusk, as I was entering the post-house of 
a little town, and purposing to set about my customary opera- 
tions, there came a fair double-seated coach with four horses 
rattling up to the door behind me. I turned round, and 
observed in it a young lady, without maid, without servants. 
I hastened to open the carriage for her, and to ask if I could 
help her in any thing. On stepping out, a fair form displayed 
itself ; and her lovely countenance, if you looked at it nar- 
rowly, was adorned with a slight shade of sorrow. I again 
asked if there was aught I could do for her. ' Oh, yes ! ' 
said she, ' if you will lift that little box carefully, which 
you will find standing on the seat, and bring it in ; but I beg 
very much of you to carry it with all steadiness, and not to 
move or shake it in the least.' I took out the box with 



282 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

great care : she shut the coach-door ; we walked up-staira 
together, and she told the servants that she was to stay here 
for the night. 

" We were now alone in the chamber : she desired me to 
put the box on the table, which was standing at the wall ; 
and as, by several of her movements, I observed that she 
wished to be alone, I took my leave, reverently but warmly 
kissing her hand. 

" ' Order supper for us two,' said she then : and you may 
well conceive with what pleasure I executed the commission ; 
scarcely deigning, in my pride of heart, to cast even a side- 
look on landlady and menials. With impatience I expected 
the moment that was to lead me back to her. Supper was 
served : we took our seats opposite each other ; I refreshed 
my heart, for the first time during a considerable while, with 
a good meal, and no less with so desirable a sight beside 
me : nay, it seemed as if she were growing fairer and fairer 
every moment. 

" Her conversation was pleasant, yet she carefully waived 
whatever had reference to affection and love. The cloth was 
removed : I still lingered, I tried all sorts of manoeuvres to 
get near her, but in vain ; she kept me at my distance, by 
a certain dignity which I could not withstand : nay, against 
my will, I had to part from her at a rather early hour. 

' ' After a night passed in waking or unrestf ully dreaming, 
I rose early, inquired whether she had ordered horses ; and, 
learning that she had not, I walked into the garden, saw her 
standing dressed at the window, and hastened up to her. 
Here, as she looked so fair, and fairer than ever, love, 
roguery, and audacity all at once started into motion within 
me : I rushed towards her, and clasped her in my arms. 
4 Angelic, irresistible being,' cried I, 'pardon! but it is im- 
possible ! ' — With incredible dexterity she whisked herself 
out of my arms, and I had not even time to imprint a kiss 
on her cheek. ' Forbear such outbreakings of a sudden fool- 
ish passion,' said she, ' if you would not scare away a happi- 
ness which lies close beside you, but which cannot be laid 
hold of till after some trials.' 

' ' ' Ask of me what thou pleasest, angelic spirit ! ' cried I, 
'but do not drive me to despair.' She answered, with a 
smile, ' If you mean to devote yourself to my service, hear 
the terms. I am come hither to visit a lady of my friends, 
and with her I purpose to continue for a time: in the mean 
while, I could wish that my carriage and this box were taken 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 288 

forward. Will you engage with it? You have nothing to 
do but carefully to lift the box into the carriage and out, 
to sit down beside it, and punctually take charge that it re- 
ceive no harm. When you enter an inn, it is put upon a 
table, in a chamber by itself, in which you must neither sit 
nor sleep. You lock the chamber-door with this key, which 
will open and shut any lock, and has the peculiar property, 
that no lock shut by it can be opened in the interim. ' 

"I looked at her; I felt strangely enough at heart; I 
promised to do all, if I might hope to see her soon, and if 
she would seal this hope to me with a kiss. She did so, and 
from that moment I had become entirely her bondman. I 
was now to order horses, she said. We settled the way 
I was to take, the places where I was to wait, and expect 
her. She at last pressed a purse of gold into my hand, and 
I pressed my lips on the fair hand that gave it me. She 
seemed moved at parting ; and, for me, I no longer knew 
what I was doing or was to do. 

" On my return from giving my orders, I found the room- 
door locked. I directly tried my master-key, and it per- 
formed its duty perfectly. The door flew up : I found the 
chamber empty, only the box standing on the table where I 
had laid it. 

' ' The carriage drove up : I carried the box carefully down 
with me, and placed it by my side. The hostess asked, ' But 
where is the lady?' A child answered, 'She is gone into 
the town.' I nodded to the people, and rolled off in triumph 
from the door which I had last night entered with dusty 
gaiters. That in my hours of leisure I diligently meditated 
on this adventure, counted my money, laid many schemes, 
and still now and then kept glancing at the box, you will 
readily imagine. I posted right forward, passed several 
stages without alighting, and rested not till I had reached a 
considerable town, where my fair one had appointed me to 
wait. Her commands had been pointedly obeyed, — the box 
always carried to a separate room, and two wax candles 
lighted beside it ; for such, also, had been her order. I 
would then lock the chamber, establish myself in my own, 
and take such comfort as the place afforded. 

t; For a while I was able to employ myself with thinking 
of her, but by degrees the time began to hang heavy on my 
hands. I was not used to live without companions : these I 
soon found, at tables-d'hdte, in coffee-houses, and public 
places, altogether to my wish. In such a mode of living, my 



234 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

monej' began to melt away ; and one night it vanished en- 
tirely from my purse in a fit of passionate gaming, which I 
had not had the prudence to abandon. Void of money, 
with the appearance of a rich man, expecting a heavy bill 
of charges, uncertain whether and when my fair one would 
again make her appearance, I felt myself in the deepest em- 
barrassment. Doubly did I now long for her, and believe, 
that, without her and her gold, it was quite impossible for 
me to live. 

"After supper, which I had relished very little, being 
forced for this time to consume it in solitude, I took to walk- 
ing violently up and down my room : I spoke aloud to my- 
self, cursed ray folly with horrid execrations, threw myself 
on the floor, tore my hair, and indeed behaved in the most 
outrageous fashion. Suddenly, in the adjoining chamber 
where the box was, I heard a slight movement, and then a 
soft knocking at the well-bolted door, which entered from 
my apartment. I gather myself, grope for my master-key ; 
but the door-leaves fly up of themselves, and in the light of 
those burning wax candles enters my beauty. I cast myself 
at her feet, kiss her robe, her hands ; she raises me ; I ven- 
ture not to clasp her, scarcely to look at her, but candidly 
and repentantly confess to her my fault. ' It is pardonable,' 
said she : ' only it postpones your happiness and mine. You 
must now make 'another tour into the world before we can 
meet again. Here is more money,' continued she, l sufficient 
if you husband it with any kind of reason. But, as wine and 
play have brought you into this perplexity, be on your guard 
in future against wine and women, and let me hope for a 
glad meeting when the time comes.' 

" She retired over the threshold ; the door-leaves flew to- 
gether : I knocked, I entreated; but nothing further stirred. 
Next morning, while presenting his bill, the waiter smiled, 
and said, ' So we have found out at last, then, why you lock 
your door in so artful and incomprehensible a way, that no 
master-key can open it. We supposed you must have much 
money and precious ware laid up by you : but now we have 
seen your treasure walking down -stairs ; and, in good truth, 
it seemed worthy of being well kept.' 

" To this I answered nothing, but paid my reckoning, and 
mounted with my box into the carriage. I again rolled 
forth into the world, with the firmest resolution to be heedful 
in future of the warning given me by my fair and mysterious 
friend. Scarcely, however, had I once more reached a large 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 235 

town, when forthwith I got acquainted with certain interest- 
ing ladies, from whom I absolutely could not tear myself 
away. They seemed inclined to make me pay dear for their 
favor : for, while they still kept me at a certain distance, they 
led me into one expense after the other ; and I, being anx- 
ious only to promote their satisfaction, once more ceased to 
think of my purse, but paid and spent straightforward, as 
occasion needed. But how great was my astonishment and 
joj', when, after some weeks, I observed that the fulness of 
my store was not in the least diminished, that my purse was 
still as round and crammed as ever ! Wishing to obtain 
more strict knowledge of this pretty quality, I set myself 
down to count : I accurately marked the sum, and again 
proceeded in my joyous life as before. We had no want of 
excursions by land, and excursions by water ; of dancing, 
singing, and other recreations. But now it required small 
attention to observe that the purse was actually diminishing, 
as if by my cursed counting I had robbed it of the property 
of being uncountable. However, this gay mode of existence 
had been once entered on : I could not draw back, and yet 
my ready money soon verged to a close. I execrated my 
situation ; upbraided my fair friend for having so led me into 
temptation ; took it as an offence that she did not again 
show herself to me ; renounced in my spleen all duties 
towards her ; and resolved to break open the box, and see 
if peradventure any help might be found there. I was just 
about proceeding with my purpose : but I put it off till night, 
that I might go through the business with full composure ; 
and, in the mean time, I hastened off to a banquet, for which 
this was the appointed hour. Here again we got into a high 
key : the wine and trumpet-sounding had flushed me not a 
little, when by the most villanous luck it chanced, that, dur- 
ing the dessert, a former friend of my dearest fair one, re- 
turning from a journey, entered unexpectedly, placed himself 
beside her, and, without much ceremony, set about asserting 
his old privileges. Hence, very soon arose ill-humor, quar- 
relling, and battle : we plucked out our spits, and I was 
carried home half dead of several wounds. 

"The surgeon had bandaged me and gone away; it was 
far in the night ; my sick-nurse had fallen asleep ; the door 
of the side-room went up ; my fair, mysterious friend came 
in, and sat down by me on the bed. She asked how I was. 
I answered not, for I was faint and sullen. She continued 
speaking with much sympathy : she rubbed my temples with 



236 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

a certain balsam, whereby I felt myself rapidly and decidedly 
strengthened, — so strengthened that I could now get angry 
and upbraid her. In a violent speech I threw all the blame 
of my misfortune on her ; on the passion she had inspired 
me with ; on her appearing and vanishing ; and the tedium, 
the longing, which, in such a case, I could not but feel. I 
waxed more and more vehement, as if a fever had been 
coming on ; and I swore to her at last, that if she would 
not be mine, would not now abide with me and wed me, 
I had no wish to live any longer : to all which I required a 
peremptory answer. As she lingered and held back with 
her explanation, I got altogether beside myself, and tore off 
my double and triple bandages in the firmest resolution to 
bleed to death. But what was my amazement when I found 
all my wounds healed, my skin smooth and entire, and this 
fair friend in my arms ! 

" Henceforth we were the happiest pair in the world. We 
both begged pardon of each other without either of us rightly 
knowing why. She now promised to travel on along with 
me ; and soon we were sitting side by side in the carriage, 
the little box lying opposite us on the other seat. Of this 
I had never spoken to her, nor did I now think of speaking, 
though it la}? there before our eyes : and both of us, by tacit 
agreement, took charge of it, as circumstances might require ; 
I, however, still carrying it to and from the carriage, and 
busying myself, as formerly, with the locking of the doors. 

" So long as aught remained in my purse I had continued 
to pay ; but, when my cash went down, I signified the fact to 
her. ' That is easily helped,' said she, pointing to a couple 
of little pouches fixed at the top, to the sides of the carriage. 
These I had often observed before, but never turned to use. 
She put her hand into the one, and pulled out some gold 
pieces, as from the other some coins of silver ; thereby 
showing me the possibility of meeting any scale of expen- 
diture which we might choose to adopt. And thus we jour- 
neyed on from town to town, from land to land, contented 
with each other and with the world ; and I fancied not that 
she would again leave me, the less so that for some time she 
had evidently been as loving wives wish to be, a circumstance 
by which our happiness and mutual affection was increased 
still further. But one morning, alas ! she could not be found ; 
and as my actual residence, without her company, became 
displeasing, I again took the road with my box, tried the 
virtue of the two pouches, and found it still unimpaired. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 237 

" My journey proceeded without accident. But if I had 
hitherto paid little heed to the mysteries of my adventure, 
expecting a natural solution of the whole, there now occurred 
something which threw me into astonishment, into anxiety, 
nay, into fear. Being wont, in my impatience for change 
of place, to hurry forward day and night, it was often my 
hap to be travelling in the dark, and, when the lamps by any 
chance went out, to be left in utter obscurity. Once, in the 
dead of such a night, I had fallen asleep ; and on awakening 
I observed the glimmer of a light on the covering of my 
carriage. I examined this more strictly, and found that it 
was issuing from the box, in which there seemed to be a 
chink, as if it had been chapped by the warm and dry weather 
of summer, which was now come on. My thoughts of jewels 
again came into my head : I supposed there must be some 
carbuncle lying in the box, and this point I forthwith set 
about investigating. I postured myself as well as might be t 
so that my eye was in immediate contact with the chink. 
But how great was my surprise when a fair apartment, well 
lighted, and furnished with much taste and even costliness, 
met my inspection ; just as if I had been looking down 
through the opening of a dome into a royal saloon ! A fire 
was burning in the grate, and before it stood an arm-chair. 
I held my breath, and continued to observe. And now there 
entered from the other side of the apartment a lady with a 
book in her hand, whom I at once recognized for my wife ; 
though her figure was contracted into the extreme of dimi- 
nution. She sat down in the chair by the fire to read ; she 
trimmed the coals with the most dainty pair of tongs ; and, 
in the course of her movements, I could clearly perceive that 
this fairest little creature was also in the family way. But 
now I was obliged to shift my constrained posture a little ; 
and the next moment, when I bent down to look in again, 
and convince myself that it was no dream, the light had 
vanished, and my eye rested on empty darkness. 

"How amazed, nay, terrified, I was, you may easily con- 
ceive. I started a thousand thoughts on this discovery, and 
yet in truth could think nothing. In the midst of this I fell 
asleep, and on awakening I fancied that it must have been 
a mere dream : yet I felt myself in some degree estranged 
from my fair one ; and, though I watched over the box but 
so much the more carefully, I knew not whether the event of 
her re-appearance in human size was a thing which 1 should 
wish or dread. 



238 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

" After some time she did actually re-appear. One even- 
ing in a white robe she came gliding in ; and, as it was just 
then growing dusky in nry room, she seemed to me taller 
than when I had seen her last : and I remembered having 
heard that all beings of the mermaid and gnome species 
increased in stature very perceptibly at the fall of night. 
She flew as usual to my arms, but I could not with right 
gladness press her to my obstructed breast. 

" ' My dearest,' said she, * I now feel, by thy reception of 
me, what, alas ! I already knew too well. Thou hast seen me 
in the interim ; thou art acquainted with the state in which, 
at certain times, I find myself : thy happiness and mine is 
interrupted, — nay, it stands on the brink of being annihilated 
altogether. I must leave thee, and I know not whether I 
shall ever see thee again.' Her presence, the grace with 
which she spoke, directly banished from my memory almost 
every trace of that vision, which, indeed, had already hov- 
ered before me as little more than a dream. I addressed her 
with kind vivacity, convinced her of my passion, assured 
her that I was innocent, that my discovery was accidental, 
— in short, I so managed it that she appeared composed, 
and endeavored to compose me. 

" ' Try thyself strictly,' said she, ' whether this discovery 
has not hurt thy love ; whether thou canst forget that I live 
in two forms beside thee ; whether the diminution of my 
being will not also contract thy affection.' 

' ' I looked at her ; she was fairer than ever : and I thought 
within myself, Is it so great a misfortune, after all, to have 
a wife who from time to time becomes a dwarf, so that one 
can carry her about with him in a casket? Were it not much 
worse if she became a giantess, and put her husband in the 
box? My gayety of heart had returned. I would not for 
the whole world have let her go. 4 Best heart,' said I, ' let 
us be and continue ever as we have been. Could either of 
us wish to be better? Enjoy thy conveniency, and I promise 
thee to guard the box with so much the more faithfulness. 
Why should the prettiest sight I have ever seen in my life 
make a bad impression on me? How happy would lovers 
be, could tJ^ey but procure such miniature pictures ! And, 
after all, it was but a picture, a little sleight-of-hand decep- 
tion. Thou art trying and teasing me, but thou shalt see 
how I will stand it.' 

M l The matter is more serious than thou thinkest,' said the 
fair one : ' however, I am truly fjjlad to see thee take it so 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 289 

lightly ; for much good may still be awaiting ns both. I will 
trust in thee, and for my own part do my utmost : only 
premise me that thou wilt never mention this discovery by 
wav of reproach. Another prayer likewise I most earnestly 
make to thee : Be more than ever on thy guard against wine 
and anger.' 

"I promised what she required; I could have gone on 
promising to all lengths : but she herself turned aside the con- 
versation, and thenceforth all proceeded in its former rou- 
tine. We had no inducement to alter our place of residence : 
the town was large, the society various ; and the fine season 
gave rise to many an excursion and garden festival. 

" In all such amusements the presence of my wife was 
welcome, nay, eagerly desired, by women as well as men. A 
kind, insinuating manner, joined with a certain dignity of 
bearing, secured to her on all hands praise and estimation. 
Besides, she could play beautifully on the lute, accompanying 
it with her voice ; and no social night could be perfect unless 
crowned by the graces of this talent. 

" I will be free to confess that I never cared much for 
music : on the contrary, it has always rather had a disa- 
greeable effect on me. My fair one soon noticed this ; and 
accordingly, when by ourselves, she never tried to entertain 
me by such means : in return, however, she appeared to in- 
demnify herself while in society, where, indeed, she always 
found a crowd of admirers. 

" And now, why should I deny it? our late dialogue, in 
spite of my best intentions, had by no means sufficed to 
settle the matter within me : on the contrary, my temper of 
mind had by degrees got into the strangest tune, almost 
without nry being conscious of it. One night, in a large 
company, this hidden grudge broke loose, and, by its conse- 
quences, produced to myself the greatest damage. 

" When I look back on it now, I, in fact, loved my beauty 
far less after thi.t unlucky discovery : I was also growing 
jealous of her, — a whim that had never struck me before. 
This night at table, I found myself placed very much to my 
mind beside my two neighbors, a couple of ladies, who, for 
some time, had appeared to me very charming. Amid jesting 
and soft small talk, I was not sparing of my wine ; while, on 
the other side, a pair of musical dilettanti had got hold of my 
wife, and at last contrived to lead the company into singing 
separately, and by way of chorus. This put me into ill-hu- 
mor. The two amateurs appeared to me impertinent ; the 



240 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

singing vexed me ; and when, as my turn came, they even re- 
quested a solo-strophe from me, I grew truly indignant : I emp- 
tied my glass, and set it down again with no soft movement. 

" The grace of my two fair neighbors soon pacified lie, 
but there is an evil nature in wrath when once it is set a-go- 
ing. It went on fermenting within me, though all things 
were of a kind to induce joy and complaisance. On the con- 
trary, I waxed more splenetic than ever when a lute was 
produced, and my fair one began fingering it and singing, to 
the admiration of all the rest. Unhappily a general silence 
was requested. So, then, I was not even to talk any more : 
and these tones were going through me like a toothache. Was 
it any wonder that, at last, the smallest spark should blow 
up the mine? 

' ' The songstress had just ended a song amid the loudest 
applauses, when she looked over to me ; and this truly with 
the most loving face in the world. Unluckily, its lovingness 
could not penetrate so far. She perceived that I had just 
gulped down a cup of wine, and was pouring out a fresh one. 
With her right forefinger she beckoned to me in kind threat- 
ening. ' Consider that it is wine ! ' said she, not louder than 
for myself to hear it. 4 Water is for mermaids ! ' cried I. 
' My ladies,' said she to my neighbors, ' crown the cup with 
all your gracefulness, that it be not too often emptied.' — 
' You will not let yourself be tutored ? ' whispered one of 
them in my ear. t What ails the dwarf? ' cried I, with a 
more violent gesture, in which I overset the glass. * Ah, 
what you have spilt ! ' cried the paragon of women ; at the 
same time twanging her strings, as if to lead back the atten- 
tion of the company from this disturbance to herself. Her 
attempt succeeded ; the more completely as she rose to her 
feet, seemingly that she might play with greater convenience, 
and in this attitude continued preluding. 

" At sight of the red wine running over the tablecloth, I 
returned to myself. I perceived the great fault I had been 
guilty of, and it cut me through the very heart. Never till 
now had music had an effect on me : the first verse she sang 
was a friendly good-night to the company, here as they were, 
as they might still feel themselves together. With the next 
verse they became as if scattered asunder : each felt himself 
solitary, separated, no one could fancy that he was present 
any longer. But what shall I say of the last verse ? It was 
directed to me alone, the voice of injured love bidding fare- 
well to moroseness and caprice. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 241 



it 



In silence I conducted her home, foreboding no good. 
Scarcely, however, had we reached our chamber, when she 
began to show herself exceedingly kind and graceful, — nay, 
even roguish : she made me the happiest of all men. 

Next morning, in high spirits and full of love, I said to 
her, ' Thou hast so often sung, when asked in company ; 
as, for example, thy touching farewell song last night. Come 
now, for my sake, and sing me a dainty, gay welcome to this 
morning hour, that we may feel as if we were meeting for 
the first time.' 

"'That I cannot do, my friend/ said she seriously. 
1 The song of last night referred to our parting, which must 
now forthwith take place ; for I can only tell thee, the vio- 
lation of thy promise and oath will have the worst conse* 
quences for us both : thou hast scoffed away a great felicity ; 
and I, too, must renounce my dearest wishes.' 

"As I now pressed and entreated her to explain herself 
more clearly, she answered, i That, alas ! I can well do ; for, 
at all events, my continuance with thee is over. Hear, then, 
what I would rather have concealed to the latest times. The 
form under which thou sawest me in the box is my natural 
and proper form ; for I am of the race of King Eckwald, the 
dread sovereign of the dwarfs, concerning whom authentic 
history has recorded so much. Our people are still, as of 
old, laborious and busy, and therefore easy to govern. Thou 
must not fancy that the dwarfs are behindhand in their 
manufacturing skill. Swords which followed the foe, when 
you cast them after him ; invisible and mysteriously binding 
chains ; impenetrable shields, and such like ware, in old 
times, — formed their staple produce. But now they chiefly 
employ themselves with articles of convenience and orna- 
ment, in which truly they surpass all people of the earth. I 
may well say, it would astonish thee to walk through our 
workshops and warehouses. All this would be right and 
good, were it not that with the whole nation in general, but 
more particularly with the royal family, there is one peculiar 
circumstance connected.' 

" She paused for a moment, and I again begged further 
light on these wonderful secrets ; which, accordingly, she 
forthwith proceeded to grant. 

u ' It is well known,' said she, ' that God, so soon as he 
had created the world, and the ground was dry, and the 
mountains were standing bright and glorious, that God, I 
say, thereupon, in the very first place, created the dwarfs, 



242 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

to the end that there might be reasonable beings also, who, 
in their passages and chasms, might contemplate and adore 
his wonders in the inward parts of the earth. It is further 
well known, that this little race by degrees became uplifted 
in heart, and attempted to acquire the dominion of the earth ; 
for which reason God then created the dragons, in order to 
drive back the dwarfs into their mountains. Now, as the 
dragons themselves were wont to nestle in the large caverns 
and clefts, and dwell there ; and many of them, too, were ir 
the habit of spitting fire, and working much other mischief, — 
the poor little dwarfs were by this means thrown into exceed- 
ing straits and distress : so that, not knowing what in the 
world to do, they humbly and fervently turned to God, and 
called to him in prayer, that he would vouchsafe to abolish 
this unclean dragon generation. But though it consisted not 
with his wisdom to destroy his own creatures, yet the heavy 
sufferings of the poor dwarfs so moved his compassion, that 
anon he created the giants, ordaining them to fight these drag- 
ons, and, if not root them out, at least lessen their numbers. 

"'Now, no sooner had the giants got moderately well 
through with the dragons, than their hearts also began to 
wax wanton : and, in their presumption, they practised 
much tyranny, especially on the good little dwarfs, who 
then once more in their need turned to the Lord ; and he, 
by the power of his hand, created the knights, who were 
to make war on the giants and dragons, and to live in 
concord with the dwarfs. Hereby was the work of creation 
completed on this side ; and it is plain, that henceforth 
giants and dragons, as well as knights and dwarfs, have 
always maintained themselves in being. From this, my 
friend, it will be clear to thee that we are of the oldest race 
on the earth, — a circumstance which does us honor, but at 
the same time brings great disadvantage along with it. 

" 'For as there is nothing in the world that can endure 
forever, but all that has once be'en great must become little 
and fade, it is our lot, also, that, ever since the creation of 
the world, we have been waning, and growing smaller, — espe- 
cially the royal family, on whom, by reason of their pure 
blood, this destiny presses with the heaviest force. To 
remedy this evil, our wise teachers have many years ago 
devised the expedient of sending forth a princess of the 
royal house from time to time into the world, to wed some 
honorable knight, that so the dwarf progeny may be re- 
fected, and saved from entire decay.' 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 243 

"Though my fair one related these things with an air of 
the utmost sincerit} T , I looked at her hesitatingly ; for it 
seemed as if she meant to palm some fable on me. As to 
her own dainty lineage I had not the smallest doubt ; but 
that she should have laid hold of me in place of a knight 
occasioned some mistrust, seeing I knew myself too well to 
suppose that my ancestors had come into the world by an 
immediate act of creation. 

" I concealed my wonder and scepticism, and asked her 
kindly, ' But tell me, my dear child, how hast thou attained 
this large and stately shape? For I know few women that 
in richness of form can compare with thee.' — 'Thou shalt 
hear,' replied she. ' It is a settled maxim in the council 
of the dwarf kings, that this extraordinary step be forborne 
as long as it possibly can ; which, indeed, I cannot but 
say is quite natural and proper. Perhaps they might have 
hesitated still longer had not my brother, born after me, 
come into the world so exceedingly small that the nurses 
actually lost him out of his swaddling-clothes ; and no crea- 
ture yet knows whither he is gone. On this occurrence, 
unexampled in the annals of dwarf dom, the sages were 
assembled ; and, without more ado, the resolution was taken, 
and I sent out in quest of a husband.' 

"'The resolution!' exclaimed I, 'that is all extremely 
well. One can resolve, one can take his resolution ; but, to 
give a dwarf this heavenly shape, how did your sages man- 
age that ? ' 

" ' It had been provided for already,' said she, 'by our 
ancestors. In the royal treasury lay a monstrous gold ring. 
I speak of it as it then appeared to me, when 1 saw it 
in my childhood ; for it was this same ring which I have 
here on my finger. We now went to work as follows. 

" ' I was informed of all that awaited me, and instructed 
what I had to do and to forbear. A splendid palace, after 
the pattern of my father's favorite summer residence, was 
then got ready, — a main edifice, wings, and whatever else 
you could think of. It stood at the entrance of a large 
rock-cleft, which it decorated in the handsomest style. On 
the appointed day our court moved thither, my parents, 
also, and myself. The army paraded ; and four and twenty 
priests, not without difficulty, carried on a costly litter the 
mysterious ring. It was placed on the threshold of the 
building, just within the spot where you entered. Many 
ceremonies were observed ; and, after a pathetic farewell, I 



244 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

proceeded to my task. I stepped forward to the ring, laid 
ray finger on it, and that instant began perceptibly to wax 
in stature. In a few moments I had reached my present 
size, and then I put the ring on my finger. But now, in 
the twinkling of an eye, the doors, windows, gates, flapped 
to ; the wings drew up into the body of the edifice ; instead 
of a palace stood a little box beside me, which I forthwith 
lifted, and carried off with me, not without a pleasant feel- 
ing in being so tall and strong. Still, indeed, a dwarf to 
trees and mountains, to streams, and tracts of land, yet a 
giant to grass and herbs, and, above all, to ants, from whom 
we dwarfs, not being always on the best terms with them, 
often suffer considerable annoyance. 

" 'How it fared with me on my pilgrimage, I might tell 
thee at great length. Suffice it to say I tried many, but no 
one save thou seemed worthy of being honored to renovate 
and perpetuate the line of the glorious Eckwald.' 

i ' In the course of these narrations my head had now and 
then kept wagging, without myself having absolutely shaken 
it. I put several questions, to which I received no very 
satisfactory answers : on the contrary, I learned, to my 
great affliction, that after what had happened she must 
needs return to her parents. She had hopes still, she said, 
of getting back to me : but, for the present, it was indis- 
pensably necessary to present herself at court ; as other- 
wise, both for her and me, there was nothing but utter 
ruin. The purses would soon cease to pay, and who knew 
what all would be the consequences? 

"On hearing that our money would run short, I inquired 
no further into consequences ; I shrugged my shoulders ; I 
was silent, and she seemed to understand me. 

" We now packed up, and got into our carriage, the box 
standing opposite us ; in which, however, I could still see 
no symptoms of a palace. In this way we proceeded sev- 
eral stages. Post-money and drink-money were readily and 
richly paid from the pouches to the right and left, till at 
last we reached a mountainous district ; and no sooner had 
we alighted here than ray fair one walked forward, directing 
me to follow her with the box. She led me by rather steep 
paths to a narrow plot of green ground, through which a 
clear brook now gushed in little falls, now ran in quiet 
windings. She pointed to a little knoll, bade me set the 
box down there, then said, ' Farewell ! Thou wilt easily 
find the way back ; remember me ; I hope to see thee again.' 



1 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 245 

" At this moment I felt as if I could not leave her. She 
was just now in one of her fine days, or, if you will, her 
fine hours. Alone with so fair a being, on the greensward, 
among grass and flowers, girt in by rocks, waters murmur- 
ing round you, what heart could have remained insensible ! 
I came forward to seize her hand, to clasp her in my arms : 
but she motioned me back, threatening me, though still 
kindly enough, with great danger if I did not instantly 
withdraw. 

'"Is there not any possibility,* exclaimed I, ' of my 
staying with thee, of thy keeping me beside thee?' These 
words I uttered with such rueful tones and gestures, that 
she seemed touched by them, and after some thought con- 
fessed to me that a continuance of * our union was not 
entirely impossible. Who happier than I ! My importu- 
nity, which increased every moment, compelled her at last 
to come out with her scheme, and inform me, that if I, too, 
could resolve on becoming as little as I had once seen her, 
I might still remain with her, be admitted to her house, her 
kingdom, her family. The proposal was not altogether to 
my mind, yet at this moment I positively could not tear 
myself away : so, having already for a good while been 
accustomed to the marvellous, and being at all times prone 
to bold enterprises, I closed with her offer, and said she 
might do with me as she pleased. 

"I was thereupon directed to hold out the little finger 
of my right hand : she placed her own against it ; then, with 
her left hand, she quite softly pulled the ring from her fin- 
ger, and let it run along mine. That instant I felt a violent 
twinge on my finger : the ring shrunk together, and tor- 
tured me horribly. I gave a loud cry, and caught round 
me for my fair one ; but she had disappeared. What state 
of mind I was in during this moment, I find no words to 
express : so I have nothing more to say but that I very 
soon, in my miniature size, found myself beside my fair 
one in a wood of grass-stalks. The joy of meeting after 
this short yet most strange separation, or, if you will, of 
this re-union without separation, exceeds all conception. I 
fell on her neck : she replied to my caresses, and the little 
pair was as happy as the large one. 

" With some difficulty we now mounted a hill : I say dif- 
ficulty, because the sward had become for us an almost im- 
penetrable forest. Yet at length we reached a bare space ; 
and how surprised was I at perceiving there a large, bolted 



246 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

mass, which, erelong, I could not but recognize for the box, 
in the same state as when I had set it down. 

" ' Go up to it, my friend,' said she, ' and do but knock 
with the ring: thou shalt see wonders.' I went up accord- 
ingly ; and no sooner had I rapped, than I did, in fact, wit- 
ness the greatest wonder. Two wings came jutting out; 
and at the same time there fell, like scales and chips, various 
pieces this way and that : while doors, windows, colonnades, 
and all that belongs to a complete palace, at once came into 
view. 

" If ever you have seen one of Rontgen's desks, — how, at 
one pull, a multitude of springs and latches get in motion, 
and writing-board and writing materials, letter and money 
compartments, all at once, or in quick succession, start for- 
ward, — you will parti} 7 conceive how this palace unfolded it- 
self, into which my sweet attendant now introduced me. In 
the large saloon I directly recognized the fireplace which I 
had formerly seen from above, and the chair in which she had 
then been sitting. And, on looking up, I actually fancied I 
could still see something of the chink in the dome, through 
which I had peeped in. I spare you the description of the 
rest : in a word, all was spacious, splendid, and tasteful. 
Scarcely had I recovered from my astonishment, when I 
heard afar off a sound of military music. My better half 
sprang up, and with rapture announced to me the approach 
of his Majesty her father. We stepped out to the threshold, 
and here beheld a magnificent procession moving towards us 
from a considerable cleft in the rock. Soldiers, servants, 
officers of state, and glittering courtiers, followed in order. 
At last you observed a golden throng, and in the midst of it 
the king himself. So soon as the whole procession had 
drawn up before the palace, the king, with his nearest retinue, 
stepped forward. His loving daughter hastened out to him, 
pulling me along with her. We threw ourselves at his feet : 
he raised me very graciously ; and, on coming to stand before 
him, I perceived, that in this little world I was still the most 
considerable figure. We proceeded together to the palace, 
where his Majesty, in presence of his whole court, was 
pleased to welcome me with a well-studied oration, in which 
he expressed his surprise at finding us here, acknowledged 
me as his son-in-law, and appointed the nuptial ceremony to 
take place on the morrow. 

"A cold sweat went over me as I heard him speak of 
marriage ; for I dreaded this even more than music, which 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 24T 

had, of old, appeared to me the most hateful thing on earth. 
Your music-makers, I used to say, enjoy at least the conceit 
of being in unison with each other, and working in concord ; 
for when they have tweaked and tuned long enough, grating 
our ears with all manner of screeches, they believe in their 
hearts that the matter is now adjusted, and one instrument 
accurately suited to the other. The band-master himself is 
in this happy delusion ; and so they set forth joyfully, though 
still tearing our nerves to pieces. In the marriage state, 
even this is not the case ; for although it is but a duet, and 
you might think two voices, or even two instruments, might 
in some degree be attuned to each other, yet this happens 
very seldom : for while the man gives out one tone, the wife 
directly takes a higher one, and the man again a higher ; and 
so it rises from the chamber to the choral pitch, and farther 
and farther, till at last not even wind-instruments can reach 
it. And now, as I loathe harmonical music, it cannot be 
surprising that disharmonical should be a thing which I can- 
not endure. 

' ' Of all the festivities in which the day was spent, I shall 
and can not give an^ account ; for I paid small heed to them. 
The sumptuous victuals, the generous wine, the royal amuse- 
ments, I could not relish. I kept thinking and considering 
what I was to do. Here, however, there was but little to be 
considered. I determined, once for all, to take myself away, 
and hide somewhere. Accordingly, I succeeded in reaching 
the chink of a stone, where I intrenched and concealed my- 
self as well as might be. My first care after this was to get 
the unhappy ring off my finger, — an enterprise, however, 
which would by no means prosper ; for, on the contrary, I 
felt that every pull I gave, the metal grew straiter, and 
cramped me with violent pains, which again abated so soon 
as I desisted from my purpose. 

" Early in the morning I awoke (for my little person had 
slept, and very soundly) , and was just stepping out to look 
farther about me, when I felt a kind of rain coming on. 
Through the grass, flowers, and leaves, there fell, as it were, 
something like sand and grit in large quantities ; but what 
was my horror when the whole of it became alive, and an 
innumerable host of ants rushed down on me ! No sooner 
did they observe me than they made an attack on all sides ; 
and, though I defended myself stoutly and gallantly enough, 
they at last so hemmed me in, so nipped and pinched 
me, that I was glad to hear them calling to surrender. I 



248 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

surrendered instantly and wholly, whereupon an ant of re 
spectable stature approached me with courtesy, nay, with 
reverence, and even recommended itself to my good graces. 
I learned that the ants had now become allies of my father- 
in-law, and by him been called out in the present emergency, 
and commissioned to fetch me back. Here, then, was little I 
in the hands of creatures still less. I had nothing for it but 
looking forward to the marriage ; nay, I must now thank 
Heaven if my father-in-law were not wroth, if my fair one 
had not taken the sullens. 

" Let me skip over the whole train of ceremonies: in a 
word, we were wedded. Gayly and joyously as matters 
went, there were, nevertheless, solitary hours in which you 
were led astray into reflection ; and now there happened to 
me something which had never happened before, — what, and 
how, you shall learn. 

' ' Every thing about me was completely adapted to my 
present form and wants : the bottles and glasses were in a fit 
ratio to a little toper, — nay, if you will, better measure in pro- 
portion than with us. In my tiny palate the dainty tidbits 
tasted excellently ; a kiss from the little mouth of my spouse 
was still the most charming thing in nature ; and I will not 
deny that novelty made all these circumstances highly agree- 
able. Unhappily, however, I had not forgotten my former 
situation. I felt within me a scale of by-gone greatness, and 
it rendered me restless and cheerless. Now, for the first 
time, did I understand what the philosophers might mean by 
their ideal, which they say so plagues the mind of man. I 
had an ideal of myself, and often in dreams I appeared as 
a giant. In short, my wife, my ring, my dwarf figure, and 
so many other bonds and restrictions, made me utterly un- 
happy ; so that I began to think seriously about obtaining 
my deliverance. 

" Being persuaded that the whole magic lay in the ring, I 
resolved on filing this asunder. From the court-jeweller, 
accordingly, I borrowed some files. By good luck I was left- 
handed ; as, indeed, throughout my whole life I had never 
done aught in the right-handed way. I stood tightly to the 
work : it was not small ; for the golden hoop, so thin as it 
appeared, had grown proportionately thicker in contracting 
from its former length. All vacant hours I privately applied 
to this task ; and at last, the metal being nearly through, I 
was provident enough to step out of doors. This was a 
wise measure ; for all a t on ce the golden hoop started sharply 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 249 

from my finger, and my frame shot aloft with such violence 
that I actually fancied I should dash against the sky : and, 
at all events, I must have bolted through the dome of our 
palace, — nay, perhaps, in my new awkwardness, have de- 
stroyed this summer residence altogether. 

"Here, then, was I standing again, — in truth, so much the 
larger, but also, as it seemed to me, so much the more stupid 
and helpless. On recovering from my stupefaction, I ob- 
served the royal strong-box lying near me, which I found to 
be moderately heavy, as I lifted it, and carried it down the 
footpath to the next stage, where I directly ordered horses 
and set forth. By the road I soon made trial of the two 
side-pouches. Instead of money, which appeared to be run 
out, I found a little key : it belonged to the strong-box, in* 
which I got some moderate compensation. So long as this 
held out, I made use of the carriage : by and by I sold it, 
and proceeded by the diligence. The strong-box, too, I at 
length cast from me ; having no hope of its ever filling again. 
And thus in the end, though after a considerable circuit, I 
again returned to the kitchen-hearth, to the landlady and the 
cook, where you were first introduced to me." 



CHAPTER XVH. 



Lenardo was overwhelmed with business, his writing- 
office in the greatest activity ; clerks and secretaries finding 
no moment's rest : while Wilhelm and Friedrich, strolling 
over field and meadow, were entertaining each other with 
the most pleasant conversation. 

And here, first of all, as necessarily happens between 
friends meeting after some separation, the question was 
started, How far they had altered in the interim ? Friedrich 
would have it that Wilhelm was exactly the same as before : 
to Wilhelm, again, it seemed that his young friend, though no 
whit abated in mirth and discursiveness, was somewhat more 
staid in his manner. " It were pity," interrupted Friedrich, 
" if the father of three children, the husband of an exem- 
plary matron, had not likewise gained a little in dignity of 
bearing." 

Now, also, it came to light, that all the persons whom we 



250 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

got acquainted with in the " Apprenticeship " were still living 
and well, — nay, better than before, being now in full and 
decisive activity ; each, in his own way, associated with 
many fellow-laborers, and striving towards the noblest aim. 
Of this, however, it is not for the present permitted us to 
impart any more precise information ; as, in a little book 
like ours, reserve and secrecy may be no unseemly qualities. 

But whatever, in the course of this confidential conversa- 
tion, transpired respecting the society in which we now are, 
as their more intimate relations, maxims, and objects, by 
little and little, came to view, it is our duty and opportunity 
to disclose in this place. 

"The whim of emigration," — such was the substance of 
Friedrich's talk on this matter, — " the whim of emigration 
may, in straitened and painful circumstances, very naturally 
lay hold of men : if particular cases chance to be favored 
by a happy issue, this whim will, in the general mind, rise 
to the rank of passion ; as we have seen, as we still see, and, 
withal, cannot deny that we, in our time, have been befooled 
by such a delusion ourselves. 

" Emigration takes place in the treacherous hope of an 
improvement in our circumstances, and it is too often coun- 
terbalanced by a subsequent emigration ; since, go where you 
may, you still find yourself in a conditional world, and, if 
not constrained to a new emigration, are yet inclined in se- 
cret to cherish such a desire. 

" We have, therefore, bound ourselves to renounce all 
emigration, and to devote ourselves to migration. Here 
one does not turn his back on his native country forever, 
but hopes, even after the greatest circuit, to arrive there 
again, richer, wiser, cleverer, better, and whatever else such 
a way of life can make him. Now, in society, all things are 
easier, more certain in their accomplishment, than to an in- 
dividual ; in which sense, my friend, consider what thou 
shalt observe here : for whatever thou mayest see, all and 
every part of it is meant to forward a great, movable con- 
nection among active and sufficient men of all classes. 

" But as where men are, manners are too, I may explain 
thus much of our constitution by way of preliminary : When 
two of our number anywhere by accident meet, they conduct 
themselves towards each other according to their rank and 
fashion, according to custom of handicraft or art, or by some 
other such mode adapted to their mutual relations. Three 
meeting together are considered as a unity, which governs 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 251 

itself ; but, if a fourth join them, they instantly elect the 
Bond, one chief and three subjects. This Bond, however 
many more combine with them, can still only be a single 
newly elected person ; for, in the great as in the small scale, 
co-regents are found to be mutually obstructive. 

" Thou may est observe that Lenardo unites, in this way, 
more than a hundred active and able men, — unites, employs, 
calls home, sends forth ; as to-morrow, an important day 
with us, thou wilt perceive and understand. Thou wilt then 
see the Bond dissolved, the multitude divided into smaller 
societies, and the Bond multiplied : all the rest will at the 
same time become clear to thee. 

' ' But for the present I invite thee to a short bout of read- 
ing. Here, under the shadow of these whispering trees, by 
the side of this still-flowing water, let us peruse a story, 
this little paper which Lenardo, from the rich treasures of 
his collection, has intrusted to me ; that so both of us may 
see thoroughly what a difference there is between a mad 
pilgrimage, such as many lead in the world, and a well-med- 
itated, happily commenced undertaking like ours, of which 
I shall at this time say no more in praise." 

The quaint, fitful, and most dainty story of " The Foolish 
Pilgrimess," wHh which our two friends now occupied their 
morning, we feel ourselves constrained, not unreluctantly, by 
certain grave calculations, to reserve for some future and 
better season. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



Lenardo, having freed himself from business for an hour, 
took dinner with his friends ; and at table he began to ex- 
plain to them his family circumstances. His eldest sister 
was married. A rich brother-in-law, to the great satisfac- 
tion of the uncle, had undertaken the management of all the 
estates ; with him Valerina's husband was stoutly co-operat- 
ing : they were laboring on the great scale, strengthening 
their enterprises by connection with distant countries and 
places. 

Here, likewise, our oldest friends once more make theii 



252 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

appearance: Lotharic, Werner, the abbe, are on their side 
proceeding in the highest diligence ; while Jarno occupies 
himself with mining. A general insurance has been insti- 
tuted : we discern a vast property in land ; and on this 
depends the existence of a large wandering society, the indi- 
vidual members of which, under the condition of the greatest 
possible usefulness, are recommended to all the world, are 
forwarded in every undertaking, and secured against all mis- 
chances : while they again, as scattered colonists, may be 
supposed to re-act on their mother country with favorable 
influences. 

Throughout all this we observe Lenardo recognized as the 
wandering Bond : in smaller and greater combinations, he, 
for most part, is elected ; on him is placed the most unre- 
stricted confidence. 

So far had the disclosure, partly from Lenardo, partly 
from Friedrich, proceeded without let, when both of them on 
a sudden became silent ; each seeming to have scruples about 
communicating more. After a short pause, Wilhelm ad- 
dressed them, and cried, "What new secret again suddenly 
overshadows the friendliest explanation? Will you again 
leave me in the lurch?" 

" Not at all ! " exclaimed Friedrich. " Do but hear me! 
He has found the nut-brown maid, and for her sake " — 

" Not for her sake," interrupted Lenardo. 

"And just for her sake!" persisted Friedrich. "Do 
not deceive yourself : for her sake you are changing your- 
self into a lawful vagabond ; as some others of us, not, in 
truth, for the most praiseworthy purposes, have, in times 
past, changed ourselves into lawless vagrants." 

"Let us go along calmly," said Lenardo: "our friend 
here must be made acquainted with the state of our affairs ; 
but, in the first place, let him have a little touch of discipline 
for himself. You had found the nut-brown maid, but to 
me you refused the knowledge of her abode. For this I 
will not blame you, but what good did it do? To discover 
this secret I was passionately incited ; and, notwithstanding 
your sagacious caution, I at length came upon the right trace. 
You have seen the good maiden yourself : her circumstances 
you have accurately investigated, and } r et you did not judge 
them rightly. It is only the loving who feels and discovers 
what the beloved wishes and wants : he can read it in her from 
her deepest heart. Let this at present suffice : for explanation 
we have no time left to-day. To-morrow I have the hottest 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 253 

press of business to front : next day we part. But for your 
information, composure, and participating interest, accept 
this copy of a week from my journal : it is the best legacy 
which I can leave you. By reading it you will not, indeed, 
become wiser than you are and than I am ; but let this for 
the present suffice. The nearest future, or a more remote 
one, will arrange and direct : that is to say, in this case, as 
in so many others, we know not what is to become of us. ,, 

By way of dessert Lenardo received a packet, at the open- 
ing of which he, with some tokens of surprise, handed a let- 
ter to Wilhelm. " What secrets, what speedy concerns, can 
sister Hersilia have with our friend ? ' To be delivered in- 
stantly and opened privately, without the presence of any 
one, friend or stranger ! ' Let us give him all possible con- 
venience, Friedrich : let us withdraw!" Wilhelm hastily 
broke open the sheet, and read, — 



Hersilia to Wilhelm. 

Wherever this letter may reach you, my noble friend, to a 
certainty it will find you in some nook where you are striving 
in vain to hide from yourself. By making you acquainted 
with my two fair dames, I have done you a sorry service. 

But wherever you may be lurking, and doubtless it will 
search you out, my promise is, that if, after reading this 
letter, you do not forthwith leap from your seat, and, like a 
pious pilgrim, appear in my presence without delay, I must 
declare you to be the manliest of all men ; that is to say, the 
one most completely void of the finest property belonging to 
our sex : I mean curiosity, which at this moment is afflicting 
me in its sharpest concentration. 

In one word, then, your casket has now got its key : this, 
however, none but you and I are to know. How it came 
into my hands let me now tell you. 

Some days ago our man of law gets despatches from a 
distant tribunal ; wherein he was asked if, at such and such 
a time, there had not been a boy prowling about our neigh- 
borhood who had played all manner of tricks, and at length, 
in a rash enterprise, lost his jacket. 

By the way this brat was described, no doubt remained with 
us but he was Fitz, — the gay comrade whom Felix talked so 
much of, and so often wished back to play with him. 

Now, for the present, those authorities request that said 



254 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

article of dress may be sent to them if it is still in existence ; 
as the boy, at last involved in judicial examinations, refers 
to it. Of this demand our lawyer chances to make mention : 
he shows us the little frock before sending it off. 

Some good or evil spirit whispers me to grope the breast- 
pocket : a little, angular, prickly something comes into my 
hand ; I, so timorous, ticklish, and startlish as I usually am, 
clinch my hand, clinch it, hold my peace ; and the jerkin is 
sent away. Directly, of all feelings, the strangest seizes me. 
At the first stolen glance I saw, I guessed, that it was the key 
of your little box. And now came wondrous scruples of con- 
science, and all sorts of moral doubts. To discover, to give 
back my windfall, was impossible ; what have those long- 
wigged judges to do with it when it may be so useful to my 
friend ? And then, again, all manner of questions about right 
and duty begin lifting up their voices ; but I would not let 
them outvote me. 

From this you perceive into what a situation my friendship 
for you has reduced me : a choice faculty develops itself all 
on a sudden for your sake ; what an occurrence ! May it not 
be something more than friendship that so holds the balance 
of my conscience ? Between guilt and curiosity I am won- 
derfully discomposed ; I have a hundred whims and stories 
about what may follow : law and judgment will not be trifled 
with. Hersilia, the careless, and, as occasion served, capri- 
cious Hersilia, entangled in a criminal process ; for this is the 
scope and tendency of it ! And what can I do but think of 
the friend for whose sake I suffer all this ? I thought of you 
before, yet with pauses ; but now I think of you incessantly : 
now when my heart throbs, and I think of the eighth com- 
mandment, I must turn to you as to the saint who has caused 
this sin, and will also procure me an absolution ; thus the 
opening of the casket is the only thing that can compose me. 
My curiosity is growing stronger and doubly strong : come, 
and bring the casket with you. To what judgment-seat 
it properly belongs we will make out between us : till then 
let it remain between us ; no one must know of it, be who 
he will. 

But now, in conclusion, look here, my friend. And tell 
me, what say you to this picture of the riddle? Does it not 
remind you of arrows with barbs? God help us ! Bat the 
box must first stand unopened between you and me, and 
then, when opened, tell us further what we have to do. I 
wish there were nothing whatever in it ; and who knows what 



JMEISTER'S TRAVELS. 



255 



all I wish, and what all I could tell? but do you look at this, 
and hasten so much the faster to get upon the road. 




Friedrich returned more gay and lively than he had gone. 
" Good news! " cried he: " good luck! Lenardo has re- 
ceived some pretty letters to facilitate the parting : credit 
more than sufficient ; and thou, too, shalt have thy share in it. 
Fortune herself surely knows not what she is about ; for once 
in her time she has done wise, worthy fellows a favor.' ' 

Hereupon he handed to his friend some clipped fragments 
of maps, with directions where they were to be produced, 
and changed for hard cash or bills, as he might choose. 
Wilhelm was obliged to accept them ; though he kept assuring 
his companion, that for the present he had no need of such 
things. "Then, others will need them!" cried Friedrich: 
" constrain not thy good feelings, and, wherever thou art, 
appear as a benefactor. But now come along, let us have 
a look at this manuscript : it is long till night ; one tires of 
talking and listening, so I have begged some writing for our 
entertainment. Every leaf in Lenardo' s archives is penned 
in the spirit of the whole : in giving me this, he said, ' Well, 
take it and read it : our friend will acquire more confidence 
in our society and Bond, the more good members he becomes 
acquainted with.' " 

The two then retired to a cheerful spot ; and Friedrich 
read, enlivening with much natural energy and mirth, what 
he found set down for him. 



256 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 



WHO CAN THE TRAITOR BE? 

" No, no ! " exclaimed he, violently and hastily rushing 
into the chamber allotted him, and setting down his candle, 
— "no! it is impossible! But whither shall I turn? For 
the first time I think otherwise than he : for the first time I 
feel, I wish, otherwise. O father ! couldst thou but be 
present invisibly, couldst thou but look through and through 
me, thou wouldst see that I am still the same, still thy true, 
obedient, affectionate son. Yet to say no ! To contradict 
my father's dearest, long-cherished wish ! How shall I dis- 
close it ? How shall I express it ? No : I cannot marry 
Julia ! While I speak of it, I shudder. And how shall I 
appear before him, tell him this, him, the good, kind father? 
He looks at me with astonishment, without speaking : the 
prudent, clear-sighted, gifted man can find no words. 
Woe is me ! Ah ! I know well to whom I would confide 
this pain, this perplexity, who it is I would choose for my 
advocate. Before all others, thou, Lucinda ! And I would 
first tell thee how I love thee, how I give myself to thee, 
and pressingly entreat thee to speak for me, and if thou 
canst love me again, if thou wilt be mine, to speak for us 
both." 

To explain this short, pithy monologue will require some 
details. 

Professor N. of N. had an only boy of singular beauty, 
whom, till the child's eighth year, he had left entirely in 
charge of his wife. This excellent woman had directed the 
hours and days of her son in living, learning, and all good 
behavior. She died ; and the father instantly felt, that to 
prosecute this parental tutelage was impossible. In their 
lifetime, all had been harmony between the parents : they 
had labored for a common aim, had determined in concert 
what was next to be done ; and the mother had not wanted 
skill to execute wisely, by herself, what the two had planned 
together. Double and treble was now the widower's anxiety ; 
seeing, as he could not but daily see, that for the sons of 
professors, even in universities, it was only by a sort 
of miracle that a happy education could be expected. 

In this strait he applied to his friend, the Oberamtmann of 
R., with whom he had already been treating of plans for a 
closer alliance between their families. The Oberamtmann 
gave him counsel and assistance : so the son was established 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 257 

in one of those institutions which still flourish in Germany, 
and where charge is taken of the whole man, and body, soul, 
and spirit are trained with all attention. 

The son was thus provided for : the father, however, felt 
himself very lonely, robbed of his wife, shut out from the 
cheerful presence of the boy, whom he had seen, without 
effort of his, growing up in such desirable culture. But 
here, again, the friendship of the Oberamtmann served him in 
good stead : the distance of their abodes vanished before his 
affection, his desire for movement, for diversion of thought. 
In this hospitable home the widowed man of letters found, in 
a family circle, motherless like his own, two beautiful little 
daughters growing up in diverse loveliness : a state of things 
which more and more confirmed the fathers in their purpose, 
in their hope, of one day seeing their families united in the 
most joyful bonds. 

They lived under the sway of a mild, good prince : the 
meritorious Oberamtmann was certain of his post during life ; 
and, in the appointment of a successor, his recommendation 
was likely to go far. And now, according to the wise fam- 
ily arrangement, sanctioned also by the minister, Lucidor 
was to train himself for the important office of his future 
father-in-law. This in consequence he did, from step to 
step. Nothing was neglected in communicating to him all 
sorts of knowledge, in developing in him all sorts of activity, 
which the state in any case requires, — practice in rigorous 
judicial law, and also in the laxer sort, where prudence and 
address find their proper field ; foresight for daily ways and 
means ; not excluding higher and more comprehensive views, 
yet all tending towards practical life, and so as with effect 
and certainty to be employed in its concerns. 

With such purposes had Lucidor spent his school years : 
by his father and his patron he was now warned to make 
ready for the university. In all departments he already 
showed the fairest talents ; and to nature he was further in- 
debted for the singular happiness of inclining, out of love 
for his father, out of respect for his friend, to turn his capa- 
bilities, first from obedience, then from conviction, on that 
very object to which he was directed. He was placed in a 
foreign university ; and here, both by his own account in his 
letters, and by the testimony of his teachers and overseers, 
he continued walking in the path that led towards his ap- 
pointed goal. It was only objected to him, that in certain 
eases he had been too impetuouslv brave. The father shook 

9— Goethe Vol 8 



258 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

his head at this : the Oberamtmann nodded. Who would 
not have been proud of such a son ? 

Meanwhile the two daughters, Julia and Lucinda, were 
waxing in stature and graces. Julia, the younger, waggish, 
lovely, unstable, highly entertaining ; the other difficult to 
portray, for in her sincerity and purity she represented all 
that we prize most in woman. Visits were paid and repaid ; 
and, in the professor's house, Julia found the most inex- 
haustible amusement. 

Geography, which he failed not to enliven by topography, 
belonged to his province ; and no sooner did Julia cast her 
eyes on any of the volumes, of which a whole series from 
Homann's warehouse were standing there, than the cities, all 
and sundry, had to be mustered, judged, preferred, or re- 
jected : all havens especially obtained her favor ; other towns, 
to acquire even a slight approval from her, must stand forth 
well supplied with steeples, domes, and minarets. 

Julia's father often left her for weeks to the care of his 
tried friend. She was actually advancing in knowledge of 
her science ; and already the inhabited world, in its main 
features, in its chief points and places, stood before her with 
some accuracy and distinctness. The garbs of foreign na- 
tions attracted her peculiar attention ; and often when her 
foster-father asked her in jest, If among the many young, 
handsome men who were passing to and fro before her win- 
dow, there was not some one or other whom she liked? she 
would answer, " Yes, indeed ! if he do but look odd enough." 
And, as our young students are seldom behindhand in this 
particular, she had often occasion to take notice of individu- 
als among them ; they brought to her mind the costume of 
foreign nations : however, she declared in the end, that, if 
she was to bestow her undivided attention on any one, he 
must be at least a Greek, equipped in the complete fashion 
of his country : on which account, also, she longed to be at 
3ome Leipzig fair, where, as she understood, such persons 
were to be seen walking the streets. 

After his dry and often irksome labors, our teacher had 
now no happier moments than those he spent in mirthfully 
instructing her ; triumphing withal, in secret, that a being 
so attractive, ever entertaining, ever entertained, was in the 
end to be his own daughter. For the rest, the two fathers 
had mutually agreed, that no hint of their purpose should 
be communicated to the girls: from Lucidor, also, it was 
kept secret. 



,MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 259 

Thus had years passed away, as, indeed, they very lightly 
pass : Lucidor presented himself completed, having stood all 
trials to the J03", even of the superior overseers, who wished 
nothing more heartily than being able, with a good con- 
science, to fulfil the hopes of old, worthy, favored, and de- 
serving servants. 

And so the business had at length by quiet, regular steps 
come so far, that Lucidor, after having demeaned himself in 
subordinate stations to universal satisfaction, was now to be 
placed in a very advantageous post, suitable to his wishes 
and merits, and lying just midway between the university 
and the Oberamtmann-ship. 

The father now spoke with his son about Julia, of whom 
he had hitherto only hinted, as about his bride and wife, 
without any doubt or condition ; congratulating him on the 
happiness of having appropriated such a jewel to himself. 
The professor saw in fancy his daughter-in-law again from 
time to time in his house, occupied with charts, plans, and 
views of cities : the son recalled to mind the gay and most 
lovely creature, who, in times of childhood, had, by her 
rogueries as by her kindliness, always delighted him. Luci- 
dor was now to ride over to the Oberamtmann' s, to take a 
closer view of the full-grown fair one, and, for a few weeks, 
to surrender himself to the habitudes and familiarity of her 
household. If the young people, as was to be hoped, should 
speedily agree, the professor was forthwith to appear, that 
so a solemn betrothment might forever secure the anticipated 
happiness. 

Lucidor arrives, is received with the friendliest welcome : 
a chamber is allotted him ; he arranges himself there, and 
appears. And now he finds, besides the members of the 
family already known to us, a grown-up son, — misbred cer- 
tainly, yet shrewd and good-natured ; so that, if you like to 
take him as the jesting counsellor of the party, he fitted not 
ill with the rest. There belonged, moreover, to the house a 
very old, but healthy and gay-hearted, man, quiet, wise, dis- 
creet ; completing his life, as it were, and here and there re- 
quiring a little help. Directly after Lucidor, too, there had 
arrived another stranger, no longer young, of an impressive 
aspect, dignified, thoroughly well-bred, and, by his acquaint- 
ance with the most distant quarters of the world, extremely 
entertaining. He was called Antoni. 

Julia received her announced bridegroom in fit order, yet 
with an excess rather than a defect of frankness : Lucinda, 



260 MEISTER'S TRAVEL^. 

on the other hand, did the honors of the house; as her sister 
did those of herself. So passed the day, peculiarly agree- 
able to all, only to Lucidor not : he, at all times silent, had 
been forced, that he might avoid sinking dumb entirely, to 
employ himself in asking questions ; and in this attitude no 
one appears to advantage. 

Throughout he had been absent-minded ; for at the first 
glance he had felt, not aversion or repugnance, yet estrange- 
ment, towards Julia : Lucinda, on the contrary, attracted 
him ; so that he trembled every time she looked at him with 
her full, pure, peaceful eyes. 

Thus hard bested, he reached his chamber the first night, 
and gave vent to his heart in that soliloquy with which we 
began. But to explain this sufficiently, to show how the 
violence of such an emphatic speech agrees with what we 
know of him already, another little statement will be neces- 
sary. 

Lucidor was of a deep character, and for most part had 
something else in his mind than what the present scene 
required : hence talk and social conversation would never 
prosper rightly with him ; he felt this, and was wont to con- 
tinue silent, except when the topic happened to be particu- 
lar, on some department which he had completely studied, 
and of which, whatever he needed was at all times ready, 
Besides this, in his early }"ears at school, and later at the 
university, he had been deceived in friends, and had wasted 
the effusions of his heart unhappily : hence every communi- 
cation of his feelings seemed to him a doubtful step, and 
doubting destro3 T s all such communication. With his father 
he was used to speak only in unison : therefore his full heart 
poured itself out in monologues, as soon as he was by him- 
self. 

Next morning he had summoned up his resolution ; and 
yet lie almost lost heart and composure again, when Julia 
met him with still more friendliness, gayety, and frankness 
than ever. She had much to ask, — about his journey by 
land and journeys by water ; how, w T hen a student, with his 
knapsack on his back, he had roamed and climbed through 
Switzerland, — nay, crossed the Alps themselves. And now 
of those fair islands on the great Southern Lake she had 
much to say : and then backwards, the Rhine must be ac- 
companied from his primary origin ; at first, through most 
undelicious regions, and so downwards through many an 
alternation, till at length, between Maynz and Coblenz, 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 261 

you find it still worth while respectfully to dismiss the old 
River from his last confinement, into the wide world, into 
the sea. 

Lucidor, in the course of this recital, felt much lightened 
in heart ; he narrated willingly and well : so that Julia at 
last exclaimed in rapture, "It is thus that our other self 
should be ! ' ' At which phrase Lucidor again felt startled 
and frightened, thinking he saw in it an allusion to their 
future pilgrimage in common through life. 

From his narrative duty, however, he was soon relieved ; 
for the stranger, Antoni, very speedily overshadowed all 
mountain streams, and rocky banks, and rivers, whether 
hemmed in or left at liberty. Under his guidance you now 
went forward to Genoa ; Livorno lay at no great distance ; 
whatever was most interesting in the country you took with 
you as fair spoil ; Naples, too, was a place you should see 
before you died ; and then, in truth, remained Constantino- 
ple, which also was by no means to be neglected. Antoni 's 
descriptions of the wide world carried the imagination of 
every hearer along with him, though Antoni himself intro- 
duced little fire into the subject. Julia, quite enraptured, 
was still nowise satisfied : she longed for Alexandria, Cairo, 
and, above all, for the pyramids ; of which, by the lessous 
of her intended father-in-law, she had gained some mod- 
erate knowledge. 

Lucidor, next night (he had scarcely shut his door, the can- 
dle he had not put down), exclaimed, " Now, bethink thee, 
then : it is growing serious ! Thou hast studied and medi- 
tated many serious things : what avails thy law-learning if 
thou canst not act like a man of law ? View thyself as a 
delegate, forget thy own feelings, and do what it would be- 
hoove thee to do for another. It thickens and closes round 
me horribly ! The stranger is plainly come for the sake of 
Lucinda ; she shows him the fairest, noblest social and hos- 
pitable attentions : that little fool would run through the 
world with any one for any thing or nothing. Besides, she 
is a wag : her interest in cities and countries is a farce, by 
which she keeps us in silence. But why do I look at the 
affair so perplexedly, so narrowly? Is not the Oberamt- 
mann himself the most judicious, the clearest, the kindest 
mediator ? Thou wilt tell him how thou f eelest and think- 
est ; and he will think with thee, if not likewise feel. With 
thy father he has all influence. And is not the one as well 
as the other his daughter? What would this Antoni the 



262 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

traveller with Lucinda, who is born for home, to be happy 
and to make happy? Let the wavering quicksilver fasten 
itself to the Wandering Jew : that will be a right match." 

Next morning Lncidor came down with the firm purpose 
of speaking with the father, and waiting on him expressly 
to that end, at the hour when he knew him to be disen- 
gaged. How great was his vexation, his perplexity, on 
learning that the Oberamtmann had been called away on 
business, and was not expected till the day after the mor- 
row ! Julia, on this occasion, seemed to be expressly in 
her travelling-fit; she kept by the world wanderer, and, 
with some sportive hits at domestic economy, gave up Luci- 
dor to Lucinda. If our friend, viewing this noble maiden 
from a certain distance, and under one general impression, 
had already, with his whole heart, loved her, he failed not 
now in this nearest nearness to discover with double and 
treble vividness in detail all that had before as a whole 
attracted him. 

The good old friend of the family now brought himself for- 
ward in place of the absent father : he, too, had lived, had 
loved, and was now, after many hard bufferings and bruises 
of life, resting at last, refreshed and cheerful, beside the 
friend of his youth. He enlivened the conversation, and 
especially expatiated on perplexities in choice of wives ; 
relating several remarkable examples of explanations, both 
in time and too late. Lucinda appeared in all her splendor. 
She admitted, that accident in all departments of life, and 
so likewise in the business of marriage, often produced the 
best result ; }et that it was finer and prouder when one could 
say he owed his happiness to himself, to the silent, calm 
conviction of his heart, to a noble purpose and a quick de- 
termination. Tears stood in Lucidor's eyes as he applauded 
this sentiment: directly afterward sthe two ladies went out. 
The old president liked well to deal in illustrative histories ; 
and so the conversation expanded itself into details of pleas- 
ant instances, which, however, touched our hero so closely 
that none but a youth of as delicate manners as his could 
have refrained from breaking out with his secret. He did 
break out so soon as he was by himself. 

" I have constrained nvyself ! " exclaimed he : " with such 
perplexities I will not vex my good father; I have forborne 
to speak, for I see in this worthy old man the substitute of 
both fathers. To him will I speak, to him disclose the 
whole : he will surely bring it about ; he has already almost 



MINISTER'S TRAVELS. 263 

spoken what I wish. Will he censure in the individual case 
what he praises in general ? To-morrow I visit him : I must 
give vent to this oppression." 

At breakfast the old man was not present : last night he 
had spoken, it appeared, too much, had sat too long, and 
likewise drunk a drop or two of wine beyond his custom. 
Much was said in his praise : many anecdotes were related, 
and precisely of such sayings and doings as brought Lucidor 
to despair for not having forthwith applied to him. This 
unpleasant feeling was but aggravated when he learned, that, 
in such attacks of disorder, the good old man would often not 
make his re-appearance for a week. 

For social converse a country residence has many advan- 
tages, especially when the owners of it have, for a course 
of years, been induced, as thinking and feeling persons, to 
improve the natural capabilities of their environs. Such 
had been the good fortune of this spot. The Oberamt- 
mann, at first unwedded, then in a long, happy marriage, 
himself a man of fortune, and occupying a lucrative post, 
had, according to his own judgment and perception, accord- 
ing to the taste of his wife, — nay, at last according to the 
wishes and whims of his children, — laid out and forwarded 
many larger and smaller decorations ; which, by degrees, be- 
ing skilfully connected with plantations and paths, afforded to 
the promenader a very beautiful, continually varying, charac- 
teristic series of scenes. A pilgrimage through these oui 
young hosts now proposed to their guest ; as in general we 
take pleasure in showing our improvements to a stranger, 
that so what has become habitual in our eyes may appear 
with the charm of novelty in his, and leave with him, in per- 
manent remembrance, its first favorable impression. 

The nearest, as well as the most distant, part of the 
grounds was peculiarly appropriate for modest decorations, 
and altogether rural individualities. Fertile hills alternated 
with well- watered meadows, so that the whole was visible 
from time to time without being flat ; and, if the land seemed 
chiefly devoted to purposes of utility, the graceful, the at- 
tractive, was by no means excluded. 

To the dwelling and office houses were united various 
gardens, orchards, and green spaces ; out of which you 
imperceptibly passed into a little wood with a broad, clear 
carriage-road, winding up and down through the midst of 
it. Here, in a central spot, on the most considerable ele- 
vation, there had been a hall erected, with side-chambers 



264 MINISTER'S TRAVELS. 

entering from it. On coming through the main door yon 
saw, in a large mirror, the most favorable prospect which 
the country afforded, and were sure to turn round that in- 
stant, to recover yourself on the reality from the effect of 
this its unexpected image ; for the approach was artfully 
enough contrived, and all that could excite surprise was 
carefully hid till the last moment. No one entered but felt 
pleasurably tempted to turn from the mirror to nature, and 
from nature to the mirror. 

Once in motion in this fairest, brightest, longest day, our 
party made a spiritual campaign of it, over and through the 
whole. Here the daughters pointed out the evening-seat of 
their good mother, where a stately box-tree had kept clear 
space all round it. A little farther on Lucinda's place of 
morning prayer was half-roguishly exhibited by Julia, close 
to a little brook, between poplars and alders, with meadows 
sloping down from it, and fields stretching upwards. It 
was indescribably pretty. You thought you had seen such 
a spot everywhere, but nowhere so impressive and so per- 
fect in its simplicity. In return for this the young master, 
also half against Julia's will, pointed out the tiny groves, 
and child's gardens which, close by a snug-lying mill, were 
now scarcely discernible : they dated from a time when Julia, 
perhaps in her tenth year, had taken it into her head to be- 
come a milleress ; intending, after the decease of the two old 
occupants, to assume the management herself, and choose 
some brave millman for her husband. 

" That was at a time," cried Julia, " when I knew nothing 
of towns lying on rivers, or even on the sea, — nothing of 
Genoa, of Naples, and the like. Your worthy father, Luci- 
dor, has converted me : of late I come seldom hither." She 
sat down with a roguish air, and on a little bench, that was 
now scarcely large enough for her, under an elder-bough, 
which had bent deeply towards the ground. "Fie on this 
cowering ! " cried she, then started up, and ran off with her 
gay brother. 

The remaining pair kept up a rational conversation, and 
in these cases reason approaches close to the borders of feel- 
ing. Wandering over changeful, simple, natural objects, to 
contemplate at leisure how cunning, scheming man contrives 
to gain some profit from them ; how his perception of what 
is laid before him, combining with the feeling of his wants, 
does wonders, first in rendering the world inhabitable, then 
in peopling it, and at last in over-peopling it, — all this 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 265 

could here be talked of in detail. Lucinda gave account 
of every thing ; and, modest as she was, she could not 
hide that these pleasant and convenient combinations of 
distant parts by roads had been her work, under the pro- 
posal, direction, or favor of her revered mother. 

But as, the longest day at last bends down to evening, our 
party were at last forced to think of returning : and, while 
devising some pleasant circuit, the merry brother proposed 
that they should take the short road ; though it commanded 
no fine prospects, and was even in some places more difficult 
to get over. " For," cried he, " you have preached all day 
about your decorations and reparations, and how you have 
improved and beautified the scene for pictorial eyes and feel- 
ing hearts : let me, also, have my turn." 

Accoi'dingly, they now set forth over ploughed grounds, by 
coarse paths, nay, sometimes picking their way by stepping- 
stones in boggy places ; till at last they perceived, at some 
distance, a pile of machinery towering up in manifold com- 
bination. More closely examined, it turned out to be a 
large apparatus for sport and games, arranged, not without 
judgment, and in a certain popular spirit. Here, fixed at 
suitable distances, stood a large swing- wheel, on which the 
ascending and the descending riders might still sit horizon- 
tally and at their ease ; other seesaws, swing-ropes, leaping- 
poles, bowling and ninepins courses, and whatever can be 
fancied for variedly and equally employing and diverting a 
crowd of people gathered on a large common. " This," cried 
he, " is my invention, my decoration ! And though my father 
found the money, and a shrewd fellow the brain necessary 
for it, yet without me, whom you often call a person of no 
judgment, money and brain would not have come together." 

In this cheerful mood the whole four reached home by 
sunset. Antoni also joined them ; but the little Julia, not 
yet satisfied with this unresting travel, ordered her coach, 
and set forth on a visit to a lady of her friends, in utter 
despair at not having seen her for two days. The party left 
behind began to feel embarrassed before they were aware : 
it was even mentioned in words that the father's absence 
distressed them. The conversation was about to stagnate, 
when all at once the madcap sprang from his seat, and in a 
few moments returned with a book, proposing to read to the 
company. Lucinda forbore not to inquire how this notion 
had occurred to him, now for the first time in a twelvemonth. 
"Every thing occurs to me," said he, u at the proper 



266 MINISTER'S TRAVELS. 

season: this is more than you can say for yourself.' 5 He 
read them a series of genuine antique tales, such as lead 
man away from himself, flattering his wishes, and making 
him forget all those restrictions between which, even in the 
happiest moments, we are still hemmed in. 

i ' What shall I do now ? ' ' cried Lucidor, when at last he 
saw himself alone. "The hour presses on: in Antoni I 
have no trust ; he is an utter stranger ; I know not who 
he is, how he comes to be here, nor wiiat he wants : Lucinda 
seems to be his object ; and, if so, what can I expect of him? 
Nothing remains for me but applying to Lucinda herself : 
she must know of it, she before all others. This was my 
first feeling : why do we stray into side-paths and subter- 
fuges ? My first thought shall be my last, and I hope to 
reach my aim." 

On Saturday morning Lucidor, dressed at an early hour, 
was walking to and fro in his chamber, thinking and con- 
ning over his projected address to Lucinda, when he heard a 
sort of jestful contention before his door ; and the door 
itself directly afterwards went up. The mad younker was 
shoving in a boy before him with coffee and baked ware 
for the guest : he himself carried cold meats and wine. 
"Go thou foremost," cried the younker, "for the guest 
must be first served : I am used to serve myself. My 
friend, to-day I am entering somewhat early and tumul- 
tuously : but let us take our breakfast in peace ; then we 
shall see what is to be done, for of our company there is 
nothing to be hoped. The little one is not yet back from 
her friend : they two have to pour out their hearts together 
every fortnight, otherwise the poor, dear hearts would burst. 
On Saturdays .Lucinda is good for nothing : she balances 
her household accounts for my father ; she would have had 
me taking share in the concern, but Heaven forbid ! When 
I know the price of any thing, no morsel of it can I relish. 
Guests are expected to-morrow ; the old man has not yet got 
refitted : Antoni is gone to hunt ; we will do the same. 

Guns, pouches, and dogs were ready as our pair stepped 
down into the court ; and now they set forth over field and 
hill, shooting at best a leveret or so, and perhaps here 
and there a poor, indifferent, undeserving bird. Mean- 
while they kept talking of domestic affairs, of the house- 
hold, and company at present assembled in it. Antoni was 
mentioned, and Lucidor failed not to inquire more narrowly 
about him, The gay younker, with some self-complaisance, 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 267 

asserted, that strange as the man was, and much mystery 
as he made about himself, he, the gay younker, had already 
seen through him and through him. "Without doubt," 
continued he, " Antoni is the son of a rich mercantile 
family, whose large partnership concern fell to ruin at the 
very time when he, in the full vigor of youth, was preparing 
to take a cheerful and active hand in their great under- 
takings, and, withal, to share in their abundant profits. 
Dashed down from the summit of his hopes, he gathered 
himself together, and undertook to perform for strangers 
what he was no longer in a case to perform for his relatives. 
And so he travelled through the world, became thoroughly 
acquainted with it and its mutual traffickings ; in the mean 
while not forgetting his own advantage. Unwearied dili- 
gence and tried fidelity obtained and secured for him un- 
bounded confidence from many. Thus in all places he 
acquired connections and friends : nay, it is easy to see 
that his fortune is as widely scattered abroad as his ac- 
quaintance ; and, accordingly, his presence is from time to 
time required in all quarters of the world." 

These things the merry younker told in a more circum- 
stantial and simple style, introducing many farcical obser- 
vations, as if he meant to spin out his story to full length. 

"How long, for instance," cried he, "has this Antoni 
been connected with my father? They think I see nothing 
because I trouble myself about nothing ; but for this very 
reason I see it better, as I take no interest in it. To my 
father he has intrusted large sums, who, again, has deposited 
them securely and to advantage. It was but last night that 
he gave our old dietetic friend a casket of jewels ; a finer, 
simpler, costlier piece of ware I never cast my eyes on : 
though I saw this only with a single glance, for they make 
a secret of it. Most probably it is to be consigned to the 
bride for her pleasure, satisfaction, and future security. 
Antoni has set his heart on Lucinda ! Yet, when I see them 
together, I cannot think it a well-assorted match. The hop- 
skip would have suited him better : I believe, too, she would 
take him sooner than the elder would. Many a time I see 
her looking over to the old curmudgeon, so gay and sympa- 
thetic, as if she could find in her heart to spring into the 
coach with him, and fly off at full gallop." Lucidor col- 
lected himself ; he knew not what to answer ; all that be 
heard obtained his internal approbation. The younker pro- 
ceeded, "All along the girl has had a perverted liking for 



268 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

old people : I believe, of a truth, she would have skipped 
away and wedded your father as briskly as she would his 
son." 

Lucidor followed his companion over stock and stone, as 
it pleased the gay youth to lead him : both forgot the chase, 
which, at any rate, could not be productive. They called at a 
farmhouse, where, being hospitably received, the one frieud 
entertained himself with eating, drinking, and tattling ; the 
other again plunged into meditations and projects for turn- 
ing this new discovery to his own profit. 

From all these narrations and disclosures Lucidor had 
acquired so much confidence in Antoni, that, immediately on 
their return, he asked for him, and hastened into the garden 
where he was said to be. In vain ! No soul was to be seen 
anywhere. At last he entered the door of the great hall : 
and strange enough the setting sun, reflected from the mirror, 
so dazzled him that he could not recognize the two persons 
who were sitting on the sofa ; though he saw distinctly that 
it was a lady and a man, which latter was that instant 
warmly kissing the hand of his companion. How great, 
accordingly, was Lucidor's astonishment when, on recov- 
ering his clearness of vision, he beheld Antoni sitting by 
Lucinda. He was like to sink through the ground ; he 
stood, however, as if rooted to the spot, till Lucinda, in 
the kindest, most unembarrassed manner, shifted a little to 
a side, and invited him to take a seat on her right hand. 
Unconsciously he obeyed her; and while she addressed him, 
inquiring after his present day's history, asking pardon for 
her absence on domestic engagements, he could scarcely 
hear her voice. Antoni rose, and took his leave : Lucinda, 
resting herself from her toil as the others were doing, invited 
Lucidor to a short stroll. Walking by her side he was silent 
and embarrassed : she, too, seemed ill at ease ; and, had he 
been in the slightest degree self-collected, her deep-drawn 
breathing must have disclosed to him that she had heartfelt 
sighs to suppress. She at last took her leave as they 
approached the house : he, on the other hand, turned round 
at first slowly, then at a violent pace, to the open country. 
The park was too narrow for him : he hastened through the 
fields, listening only to the voice of his heart, and without 
eyes for the beauties of this loveliest evening. When he 
found himself alone, and his feelings were relieving their 
violence in a shower of tears, he exclaimed, — 

" Already in my life, but never with such fierceness, have 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 269 

I felt the agony which now makes me altogether wretched, — 
to see the long-wished- for happiness at length reach me, 
hand in hand and arm in arm unite with me, and at the 
same moment announce its eternal departure ! I was sit- 
ting by her, I was walking by her, her fluttering garment 
touched me ; and I have lost her ! Reckon it not over, 
torture not thy heart with it, be silent and determine!". 

He laid a prohibition on his lips : he held his peace, and 
planned and meditated ; stepping over field and meadow 
and bush, not always by the smoothest paths. Late at 
night, on returning to his chamber, he gave voice to his 
thoughts for a moment, and cried, c ' To-morrow morning I 
am gone : another such day I will not front. ' ' 

And so, without undressing, he threw himself on the bed. 
Happy, healthy season of youth ! He was already asleep : 
the fatiguing motion of the day had earned for him the 
sweetest rest. Out of bright morning dreams, however, the 
earliest sun awoke him : this was the longest day in the year, 
and for him it threatened to be too long. If the grace of the 
peaceful evening star had passed over him unnoticed, he felt 
the awakening beauty of . the morning only to despair. The 
world was lying here as glorious as ever ; to his eyes it was 
still so, but his soul contradicted it : all this belonged to him 
no longer ; he had lost Lucinda. 

His travelling-bag was soon packed ; this he was to leave 
behind him ; he left no letter with it : a verbal message in 
excuse of absence from dinner, perhaps also from suppei\ 
might be left with the groom, whom, at any rate, he must 
awaken. The groom, however, was awake already : Lucidor 
found him in the yard, walking with large strides before the 
stable-door. ' ' You do not mean to ride ? ' ' cried the usually 
good-natured man, with a tone of some spleen. " To you I 
may say it, but young master is growing worse and worse. 
There was he driving about far and near yesterday : you 
might have thought he would thank God for a Sunday to rest 
in. And see if he does not come this morning before day- 
break, rummages about in the stable, and, while I am getting 
up, saddles and bridles your horse, flings himself on it, and 
cries, ' Do but consider the good work I am doing ! This 
beast keeps jogging on at a staid, juridical trot : I must see 
and rouse him into a smart life-gallop.' He said something 
just so, and other strange speeches besides." 

Lucidor was doubly and trebly vexed : he liked the horse, 
as corresponding to his own character, his own mode of life; 



270 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

it grieved him to figure his good, sensible beast in the hands 
of a madcap. His plan, too, was overturned, — his purpose 
of flying to a college friend with whom he had lived in cheer- 
ful, cordial union, and in this crisis seeking refuge beside 
him. His old confidence had been awakened, the interven- 
ing miles were not counted : he had fancied himself already 
at the side of his true-hearted and judicious friend, finding 
counsel and assuagement from his words and looks. This 
prospect was now cut off, yet not entirely, if he could ven- 
ture with the fresh, pedestrian limbs which still stood at his 
command to set forth towards the goal. 

First of all, accordingly, he struck through the park ; 
making for the open country, and the road which was to lead 
him to his friend. Of his direction he was not quite certain, 
when, looking to the left, his eye fell upon the hermitage, 
which had hitherto been kept secret from him, — a strange 
edifice, rising with grotesque joinery through bush and tree ; 
and here, to his extreme astonishment, he observed the good 
old man, who for some days had been considered sick, stand- 
ing in the gallery under the Chinese roof, and looking blithely 
through the soft morning. The friendliest salutation, the 
most pressing entreaties to come up, Lucidor resisted with 
excuses and gestures of haste. Nothing but sympathy with 
the good old man, who, fiastening down with infirm step, 
seemed every moment in danger of falling to the bottom, 
could induce him to turn thither, and then suffer himself to 
be conducted up. With surprise he entered the pretty little 
hall ; it had only three windows, turned towards the park, — 
a most graceful prospect : the other sides were decorated, or, 
rather, covered, with hundreds of portraits, copper-plate or 
painted, which were fixed in a certain order to the wall, and 
separated by colored borders and interstices. 

11 1 favor you, my friend, more than I do every one : this 
is the sanctuary in which I peacefully spend my last days. 
Here I recover myself from all the mistakes which society 
tempts me to commit : here my dietetic errors are corrected, 
and my old being is again restored to equilibrium." 

Lucidor looked over the place ; and, being well read in 
history, he easily observed that an historical taste had pre- 
sided in its arrangement. 

" Above, there, in the frieze," said the old virtuoso, " you 
will find the names of distinguished men in the primitive 
ages ; then those of later antiquity ; yet still only their 
names, for how they looked would now be difficult to dis- 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 271 

cover. But here, in the main field, comes my own life into 
play : here are the men whose names I used to hear men- 
tioned in my boyhood. For some fifty years or so the name 
of a distinguished man continues in the remembrance of the 
people : then it vanishes, or becomes fabulous. Though of 
German parentage, I was born in Holland ; and, for me, 
William of Orange, Stadtholder, and King of England, is the 
patriarch of all common great men and heroes. 

" Now, close by William, you observe Louis Fourteenth 
as the person who ' ' — How gladly would Lucidor have cut 
short the good old man, had it but been permitted him, as it 
is to us the narrators : for the whole late and latest history 
of the world seemed impending ; as from the portraits of 
Frederick the Great and his generals, towards which he was 
glancing, was but too clearly to be gathered. 

And though the kindly young man could not but respect 
his old friend's lively sympathy in these things, nor deny that 
some individual features and views in this exhibitory dis- 
course might be interesting ; yet at college he had heard the 
late and latest history of Europe already : and, what a man 
has once heard, he fancies himself to know forever. Luci- 
dor' s thoughts were wandering far awa} 7 : he heard not, he 
scarcely saw, and was just on the point, in spite of all 
politeness, of flinging himself out, and tumbling down the 
long, fatal stair, when a loud clapping of hands was heard 
from below. 

While Lucidor restrained his movement, the old man 
looked over through the window ; and a well-known voice 
resounded from beneath, " Come down, for Heaven's sake, 
out of your historic picture-gallery, old gentleman ! Con- 
clude your fasts and humiliations, and help me to appease 
our young friend, when he learns it. Lucidor's horse I have 
ridden somewhat hard : it has lost a shoe, and I was obliged 
to leave the beast behind me. What will he say? He is too 
absurd, when one behaves absurdly.*" 

" Come up," said the old man, and turned in to Lucidor. 

'Now what say you?" Lucidor was silent, and the wild 

blade entered. The discussion of the business lasted long : 

at length it was determined to despatch the groom forthwith, 

that he might seek the horse, and take charge of it. 

Leaving the old man, the two younkers hastened to the 
house ; Lucidor, not quite unwillingly, submitting to this ar- 
rangement. Come of it what might, within these walls the 
sole wish of his heart was included. In such desperate 



272 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

cases, we are, at any rate, cut off from the assistance of our 
free will ; and we feel ourselves relieved for a moment, 
when, from any quarter, direction and constraint take hold 
of us. Yet, on entering his chamber, he found himself in 
the strangest mood, — like a man who, having just left an 
apartment of an inn, is forced to return to it by the break- 
ing of an axle. 

The gay younker fell upon the travelling-bag, unpacking it 
all in due order ; especially selecting every article of holiday 
apparel, which, though only on the travelling scale, was to 
be found there. He forced Lucidor to put on fresh shoes 
and stockings : he dressed for him his clustering brown 
locks, and decked him at all points with his best skill. Then 
stepping back, and surveying our friend and his own handi- 
work from head to foot, he exclaimed, "Now, then, my 
good fellow, you do look like a man that has some preten- 
sions to pretty damsels, and serious enough, moreover, to 
spy about you for a bride ! Wait one moment ! You shall 
see how I, too, can produce myself, when the hour strikes. 
This knack I learned from your military officers , the girls 
are always glancing at them : so I likewise have enrolled my- 
self among a certain soldiery ; and now they look at me, too, 
and look again ; and no soul of them knows what to make of 
it. And so, from this looking and re-looking, from this sur- 
prise and attention, a pretty enough result now and then 
arises ; which, though it were not lasting, is worth enjoying 
for the moment. 

" But come along, my friend, and do the like service for 
me. When you have seen me case myself by piecemeal in 
my equipment, you will not say that wit and invention have 
been denied me." He now led his friend through several 
long, spacious passages of the old castle. "I have quite 
nestled myself here," cried he. "Though I care not for 
hiding, I like to be alone : you can do no good with other 
people." 

They were passing by the office-rooms just as a servant 
came out with a patriarchal writing apparatus, black, mas- 
sive, and complete : paper, too, was not forgotten. 

"I know what it is to be blotted here again," cried the 
younker : "go thy ways, and leave me the key. Take a look 
of the place, Lucidor : it will amuse you till I am dressed. 
To a friend of justice, such a spot is not odious, as to a 
tamer of horses." And, with this, he pushed Lucidor into 
the hall of judgment. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 273 

Lucidor felt himself directly in a well-known and friendly 
element : he thought of the days when he, fixed down to 
business, had sat at such a table, and, listening and writing, 
had trained himself to his art. Nor did he fail to observe, 
that in this case an old, stately, domestic chapel had, under 
the change of religious ideas, been converted to the service 
of Themis. In the repositories he found some titles and acts 
already familiar to him : in these very matters he had co- 
operated while laboring in the capital. Opening a bundle of 
papers, there came into his hands a rescript which he himself 
had dictated ; another of which he had been the originator. 
Handwriting and paper, signet and president's signature, 
every thing recalled to him that season of juridical effort, of 
youthful hope. And here, when he looked round, and saw 
the Oberamtmann' s chair, appointed and intended for him- 
self ; so fair a place, so dignified a circle of activity, which 
he was now like to cast away and utterly lose, — all this op- 
pressed him doubly and trebly, as the form of Lucinda 
seemed to retire from him at the same time. 

He turned to go out into the open air, but found himself a 
prisoner. His gay friend, heedlessly or roguishly, had left 
the door locked. Lucidor, however, did not long continue 
in this durance ; for the other returned, apologized for his 
oversight, and really called forth good-humor by his singular 
appearance. A certain audacity of color and cut in his 
clothes was softened by natural taste, as even to tattooed 
Indians we refuse not a certain approbation. "To-day," 
cried he, " the tedium of by-gone days shall be made good to 
us. Worthy friends, merry friends, are come ; pretty girls, 
roguish and fond ; and my father, to boot ; and, wonder on 
wonder ! your father too. This will be a festival truly : they 
are all assembled for breakfast in the parlor." 

With Lucidor, at this piece of information, it was as if he 
were looking into deep fog : all the figures, known and un- 
known, which the words announced to him, assumed a spec- 
tral aspect ; yet his resolution, and the consciousness of a 
pure heart, sustained him : and in a few seconds he felt him- 
self prepared for every thing. He followed his hastening 
friend with a steady step, firmly determined to await the 
issue, be what it might, and explain his own purposes, come 
what come might. 

And yet, at the very threshold of the hall, he was struck 
with some alarm. In a large half- circle, ranged round by 
the windows, he immediately descried his father with the 



274 MEISTERS TRAVELS. 

Oberamtmann, both splendidly attired. The two sisters, An- 
toni, and others known and unknown, he hurried over with 
a glance, which was threatening to grow dim. Half waver- 
ing, he approached his father, who bade him welcome with 
the utmost kindness, } T et in a certain style of formality which 
scarcely invited any trustful application. Standing before 
so many persons, he looked round to find a place among them 
for a moment ; he might have arranged himself beside Lu- 
cinda : but Julia, contrary to the rigor of etiquette, made 
room for him ; so that he was forced to step to her side. 
Antoni continued by Lucinda. 

At this important moment Lucidor again felt as if he were 
a delegate ; and, steeled by his whole juridical science, he 
called up in his own favor the fine maxim, That we should 
transact affairs delegated to us by a stranger as if they were 
our own ; why not our own, therefore, in the same spirit? 
Well practised in official orations, he speedily ran over what 
he had to say. But the compairy, ranged in a formal semi- 
circle, seemed to outflank him. The purport of his speech he 
knew well : the beginning of it he could not find. At this 
crisis he observed on a table, in the corner, the large ink- 
glass, and several clerks sitting round it : the Oberamtmann 
made a movement as if to solicit attention for a speech ; 
Lucidor wished to anticipate him : and, at that very moment, 
Julia pressed his hand. This threw him out of all self-pos- 
session, convinced him that all was decided, all lost for 
him. 

With the whole of these negotiations, these family alli- 
ances, with social conventions, and rules of good manners, he 
had now nothing more to do : he snatched his hand from 
Julia's, and vanished so rapidly from the room, that the 
company lost him unawares ; and he out of doors could not 
find himself again. 

Shrinking from the light of day, which shone down upon 
him in its highest splendor ; avoiding the eyes of men ; dread- 
ing search and pursuit, — he hurried forwards, and reached 
the large garden-hall. Here his knees were like to fail him : 
he rushed in, and threw himself, utterly comfortless, upon the 
sofa beneath the mirror. Amid the polished arrangements 
of society, to be caught in such unspeakable perplexity ! It 
dashed to and fro like waves about him and within him. 
His past existence was struggling with his present : it was a 
frightful moment. 

And so he lay for a time, with bis lace hid in the cushion, 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 275 

on which last night Lucinda's arm had rested. Altogether 
sunk in his sorrow, he had heard no footsteps approach : 
feeling some one touch him, he started up, and perceived 
Lucinda standing by his side. 

Fanc} 7 ing they had sent her to bring him back, had com- 
missioned her to lead him with fit, sisterly words into the as- 
semblage to front his hated doom, he exclaimed, " You they 
should not have sent, Lucinda ; for it was you that drove me 
away. -I will not return. Give me, if you are capable of 
any pity, procure me, convenience and means of flight. For, 
that you yourself may testify how impossible it was to bring 
me back, listen to the explanation of my conduct, which to 
you and all of them must seem insane. Hear now the oath 
which I have sworn in my soul, and which I incessantly re- 
peat in words : with you only did I wish to live, with you to 
enjoy, to employ my days, from youth to old age, in true, 
honorable union. And let this be as firm and sure as aught 
ever sworn before the altar, — this, which I now swear, now 
when I leave you, the most pitiable of all men/* 

He made a movement to glide past her, as she stood close 
before him ; but she caught him softl} r in her arms. " What 
is this? " exclaimed he. 

" Lucidor ! " cried she, "not pitiable as you think: you 
are mine, I am yours ; I hold you in my arms ; delay not to 
throw your arms about me. Your father has agreed to all : 
Antoni marries my sister." 

In astonishment he recoiled from her. ' ' Can it be ? ' ' Lu- 
cinda smiled and nodded : he drew back from her arms. 
" Let me view once more, at a distance, what is to be mine 
so nearly, so inseparably ! " He grasped her hands : " Lu- 
cinda, are you mine?" 

She answered, "Well, then, yes," the sweetest tears in 
the truest eyes : he clasped her to his breast, and threw his 
head behind hers ; he hung like a shipwrecked mariner on 
the cliffs of the coast ; the ground still shook under him. 
And now his enraptured eye, again opening, lighted on the 
mirror. He saw her there in his arms, himself clasped in 
hers : he looked down and again to the image. Such emo- 
tions accompany man throughout his life. In the mirror, 
also, he beheld the landscape, which last night had appeared 
to him so baleful and ominous, now tying fairer and brighter 
than ever ; and himself in such a posture, on such a back- 
ground ! Abundant recompense for all sorrows ! 

" We are not alone," said Lucinda; and scarcely had he 



276 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

recovered from his rapture, when, all decked and garlanded, 
a company of girls and boys came forward, carrying wreaths 
of flowers, and crowding the entrance of the hall. " This is 
not the way," cried Lucinda : " how prettily it was arranged, 
and now it is all running into tumult!" A gay march 
sounded from a distance, and the company were seen com- 
ing on by the large road in stately procession. Lucidor hesi- 
tated to advance towards them : only on her arm did he seem 
certain of his steps. She staid beside him ; expecting from 
moment to moment the solemn scene of meeting, of thanks 
for pardon already given. 

But by the capricious gods it was otherwise determined. 
The gay, clanging sound of a postilion's horn from the oppo- 
site side seemed to throw the whole ceremony into rout. 
" Who can be coming ? " cried Lucinda. The thought of a 
strange presence was frightful to Lucidor, and the carriage 
seemed entirely unknown to him. A double-seated, new, 
spick-and-span new, travelling-chaise ! It rolled up to the 
hall. A well-dressed, handsome boy sprang down, opened 
the door ; but no one dismounted ; the chaise was empty. 
The boy stepped into it : with a dexterous touch or two 
he threw back the tilts ; and there, in a twinkling, stood 
the daintiest vehicle in readiness for the gayest drive, before 
the eyes of the whole party, who were now advancing to the 
spot. Antoni, outhastening the rest, led Julia to the car- 
riage. "Try if this machine," said he, "will please you; 
if you can sit in it, and, over the smoothest roads, roll 
through the world beside me,: I will lead you by no other 
but the smoothest ; and, when a strait comes, we shall know 
how to help ourselves. Over the mountains sumpters shall 
carry us, and our coach also." 

" You are a dear creature ! " cried Julia. The boy came 
forward, and, with the quickness of a conjurer, exhibited all 
the conveniences, little advantages, comforts, and celerities 
of the whole light edifice. 

" On earth I have no thanks," cried Julia ; " but from this 
little moving heaven, from this cloud, into which you raise 
me, I will heartily thank you." She had already bounded 
in, throwing him kind looks, and a kiss of the hand. " For 
the present you come not hither ; but there is another whom 
I mean to take along with me in this proof-excursion, — he 
himself has still a proof to undergo." She called to Luci- 
dor, who, just then occupied in mute conversation with his 
father and father-in-law, willingly took refuge in the light 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 277 

vehicle, feeling an irresistible necessity to dissipate his 
thoughts in some way or other, though it were but for a 
moment. He placed himself beside her : she directed the 
postilion where he was to drive. Instantly they darted off, 
enveloped in a cloud of dust, and vanished from the eyes 
of the amazed spectators. 

Julia fixed herself in the corner as firmly and commocli- 
ously as she could wish. u Now do you shift into that one, 
too, good brother ; so that we may look each other rightly in 
the face." 

Lucidor. You feel my confusion, my embarrassment. ] 
am still as if in a dream. Help me out of it. 

Julia. Look at these gay peasants. How kindly they sa 
lute us ! You have never seen the Upper Hamlet yet, since 
you came hither. All good, substantial people there, and 
all thoroughly devoted to me. No one of them so rich that 
you cannot, by a time, do a little kind service to him. This 
road, which we whirl along so smoothly, is my father's doing, 
— another of his benefits to the community. 

Lucidor. I believe it, and willingly admit it ; but what 
have these external things to do with the perplexity of my 
internal feelings? 

Julia. Patience a little ! I wilt show you the riches of 
this world, and the glory thereof. Here now we are at the 
top. Do but look how clear the level country lies all round 
us, leaning against the mountains. All these villages are 
much , much indebted to my father ; to mother and daughters 
too. The grounds of yon little hamlet are the border. 

Lucidor. Surely you are in a very strange mood : you do 
not seem to be saying what you meant to say. 

Julia. But now look down to the left. How beautifully 
all this unfolds itself ! The church, with its high lindens ; 
the Amthaus, with its poplars, behind the village knoll. 
Here, too, are the garden and the park. 

The postilion drove faster. 

Julia. The Hall up yonder you know. It looks almost 
as well here as this scene does from it. Here, at the tree, 
we shall stop a moment. Now, in this very spot our image 
is reflected in the large mirror : there they see us full well, 
but we cannot see ourselves. — Go along, postilion ! There, 
some little while ago, two people, I believe, were reflected at 
a shorter distance, and, if I am not exceedingly mistaken, 
to their great mutual satisfaction. 

Lucidor, in iil-humor, answered nothing. They went on 



278 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

for some time in silence, driving very hard. " Here," said 
Julia, " the bad road begins, — a service left for you to do 
some day. Before we go lower, look down once more. My 
mother's box-tree rises with its royal summit over all the 
rest. Thou wilt drive," continued she, to the postilion, 
" down this rough road : we shall take the footpath through 
the dale, and so be sooner at the other side than thou.*' In 
dismounting, she cried, " Well, now, you will confess the 
Wandering Jew, this restless Antoni the Traveller, can 
arrange his pilgrimages prettily enough for himself and his 
companions. It is a very beautiful and commodious car- 
riage." 

And with this she tripped away down hill. Lucidor fol- 
lowed her in deep thought : she was sitting on a pleasant 
seat ; it was Lucinda's little spot. She invited him to sit by 
her. 

Julia. So now we are sitting here, and one is nothing to 
the other. Thus it was destined to be. The little Quicksilver 
would not suit you. Love it you could not : it was hateful 
to you. 

Lucidor' s astonishment increased. 

Julia. But Lucinda, indeed ! She is the paragon of all 
perfections, and the pretty sister was once for all cast out. 
I see it : the question hovers on your lips, Who has told us 
all so accurately? 

Lucidor. There is treachery in it ! 

Julia. Yes, truly ! There has been a traitor at work in 
the matter. 

Lucidor. Name him. 

Julia. He is soon unmasked : You ! You have the praise- 
worthy or blameworthy custom of talking to yourself ; and 
now, in the name of all, I must confess that in turn we have 
overheard you. 

Lucidor (starting up). A sorry piece of hospitality, to 
lay snares for a stranger in this way ! 

Julia. By no means. We thought not of watching } t ou 
more than any other. But you know your bed stands in the 
recess of the wall : on the opposite side is another alcove, 
commonly employed for laying up household articles. Hither, 
some days before, we had shifted our old man's bed, being 
anxious about him in his remote hermitage ; and here, the 
first night, you started some such passionate soliloquy, w r hich 
he next morning took his opportunity of rehearsing. 

Lucidor had not the heart to interrupt her. He withdrew. 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 279 

Julia (rising and following him). What a service this 
discovery did us all ! For I will confess, if you were not 
positively disagreeable, the situation which awaited me was 
not by any means to my mind. To be Frau Oberamtmannin, 
— what a dreadful state! To have a brave, gallant hus- 
band, who is to pass judgment on the people, and, for sheer 
judgment, cannot get to justice ; who can please neither 
high nor low, and, what is worst, not even himself. I know 
what my poor mother suffered from the incorruptibility, 
the inflexibility, of my father. At last, indeed, but not till 
her death, a certain meekness took possession of him : he 
seemed to suit himself to the world, to make a truce with 
those evils which till then he had vainly striven to con- 
quer. 

Lucidor (stopping short, extremely discontented with the 
incident, vexed at this light mode of treating it). For the 
sport of an evening this might pass, but to practise such a 
disgracing mystification day and night against an unsuspi- 
cious stranger is not pardonable. 

Julia. "We are all equally deep in the crime, we all heark- 
ened you ; yet I alone pay the penalty of eavesdropping. 

Lucidor. All ! So much the more unpardonable. And 
how could you look at me, throughout the day, without 
blushing, whom at night you were so contemptuously over- 
reaching? But I see clearly with a glance that your arrange- 
ments by day were planned to make mockery of me. A 
fine family ! And where was your father's love of justice all 
this while ? — And Lucinda — 

Julia. And Lucinda ! What a tone was that ! You 
meant to say, did not you, how deeply it grieved your heart 
to think ill of Lucinda, to rank her in a class with the rest 
of us? 

Lucidor. I cannot understand Lucinda. 

Julia. In other words, this pure, noble soul ; this peace- 
fully composed nature, benevolence, goodness itself ; this 
woman as she should be, — unites with a light-minded com- 
pany, with a freakish sister, -a spoiled brother, and certain 
mysterious persons. That is incomprehensible ! 

Lucidor. Yes, indeed, it is incomprehensible ! 

Julia. Comprehend it, then ! Lucinda, like the rest of 
us, had her hands bound. Could } t ou have seen her perplex- 
ity, how fain she would have told you all, how often she was 
on the very eve of doing it, you would now love her doubly 
and trebly, if, indeed, true love were not always tenfold and 



280 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

hundred-fold of itself. I can assure you, moreover, that all 
of us at length thought the joke too long. 

Lucidor. Why did you not end it, then? 

Julia. That, too, I must explain. No sooner had my 
father got intelligence of your first monologue, and seen, as 
was easy to do, that none of his children would object to 
such an exchange, than he determined on visiting your father. 
The importance of the business gave him much anxiety. A 
father alone can feel the respect which is due to a father. 
" He must be informed of it in the first place," said mine, 
•' that he may not in the end, when we are all agreed, be 
reduced to give a forced and displeased consent. I know 
him well : I know how any thought, any wish, any purpose, 
cleaves to him ; and I have my own fears about the issue. 
Julia, his maps and pictures, he has long viewed as one thing ; 
he has it in his eye to transport all this hither, when the 
young pair are once settled here, and his old pupil cannot 
change her abode so readily : on us he is to bestow his holi- 
days ; and who knows what other kind, friendly things he 
has projected? He must forthwith be informed what a trick 
Nature has played us, while yet nothing is declared, nothing 
is determined." And, with this, he exacted from us all the 
most solemn promise that we should observe you, and, come 
what might, retain you here till his return. How this return 
has been protracted ; what art, toil, and perseverance it has 
cost to gain your father's consent, — he himself will inform 
you. In short, the business is adjusted : Lucinda is yours. 

And thus had the two promenaders, sharply removing from 
their first resting-place, then pausing by the way, then speak- 
ing, and walking slowly through the green fields, at last 
reached the height, where another well-levelled road received 
them. The carriage came whirling up : Julia in the mean 
while turned her friend's attention to a strange sight. The 
whole machinery, of which her gay brother had bragged so 
much, was now alive and in motion : the wheels were already 
heaving up and down a multitude of people ; the seesaws 
were flying ; maypoles had their climbers ; and many a bold, 
artful swing and spring over the heads of an innumerable 
multitude you might see ventured. The younker had set all 
a-going, that so the guests, after dinner, might have a gay 
spectacle awaiting them. "Thou wilt drive through the 
Nether Hamlet," cried Julia : " the people wish me well, and 
they shall see how well I am off." 

Tly» hamlet was empty : the young people had all run i 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 281 

the swings and seesaws ; old men and women, roused by 
the driver's horn, appeared at doors and windows ; every one 
gave salutations and blessings, exclaiming, " Oh, what a 
lovely pair ! ' ' 

Julia. There, do you hear? We should have suited well 
enough together after all : you may rue it yet. 

Lucidor. But now, dear sister — 

Julia. Ha ! Now dear, when you are rid of me ! 

Lucidor. One single word. On you rests a heavy accusa- 
tion : what did you mean by that squeeze of the hand, when 
you knew and felt my dreadful situation? A thing so radi- 
cally wicked I have never met with in my life before. 

Julia, Thank Heaven, we are now quits ; now all is par- 
doned : I had no mind for you, that is certain ; but that you 
had utterly and absolutely no mind for me, this was a thing 
which no } T oung women could forgive : and the squeeze of 
the hand, observe you, was for the rogue. I do confess it 
was almost too roguish : and I forgive myself, because I for- 
give you ; and so let all be forgotten and forgiven ! Here 
is my hand. 

He took it : she cried. " Here we are again ! In our park 
again ; and so, in a trice, we whirl through the wide world, 
and back too : we shall meet again." 

They had reached the garden-hall ; it seemed empty : the 
company, tired of waiting, had gone out to walk. Antoni, 
however, and Lucinda, came forth. Julia, stepping from the 
carriage, flew to her friend : she thanked him in a cordial em- 
brace, and restrained not the most joyful tears. The brave 
man's cheeks reddened, his features looked forth unfolded ; 
his eye glanced moist ; and a fair, imposing youth shone 
through the veil. 

And so both pairs moved off to join the company, with 
feelings which the finest dream could not have given them, 



CHAPTER LAST. 



" Thus, my friends," said Lenardo, after a short pre- 
amble, "if we survey the most populous provinces and king- 
doms of the firm earth, we observe on all sides, that wher- 
ever an available soil appears, it is cultivated, planted? 



282 METSTER'S TRAVELS. 

shaped, "beautified, and, in the same proportion, coveted, 
taken into possession, fortified, and defended. Hereby we 
bring home to our conceptions the high worth of property in 
land, and are obliged to consider it as the first and best 
acquirement that can be allotted to man. And if, on closer 
inspection, we find parental and filial love, the union of coun- 
trymen and townsmen, and therefore the universal feeling of 
patriotism, founded immediately on this same interest in the 
soil, we cannot but regard that seizing and retaining of 
space, in the great or the small scale, as a thing still more im- 
portant and venerable. Yes, Nature herself has so ordered it ! 
A man born on the glebe comes by habit to belong to it: the 
two grow together, and the fairest ties are spun from their 
union. Who is there, then, that would spitefully disturb this 
foundation-stone of all existence ; that would blindly deny 
the worth and dignity of such precious and peculiar gifts of 
Heaven ? 

"And yet we may assert, that if what man possesses is of 
great worth, what he does and accomplishes must be of still 
greater. In a wide view of things, therefore, we must look 
on property in land as one small part of the possessions 
that have been given us. Of these the greatest and the 
most precious part consists especially in what is movable, 
and in what is gained by a moving life. 

' ' Towards this quarter we younger men are peculiarly 
constrained to turn ; for, though we had inherited from our 
fathers the desire of abiding and continuing, we find our- 
selves called by a thousand causes nowise to shut our eyes 
against a wider out-look and survey. Let us hasten, then, 
to the shore of the ocean, and convince ourselves what 
boundless spaces are still lying open to activity, and confess, 
that, by the bare thought of this, we are roused to new 
vigor. 

" Yet, not to lose ourselves in these vast expanses, let us 
direct our attention to the long and large surface of so many 
countries and kingdoms combined together on the face of 
the earth. Here we behold great tracts of land tenanted by 
Nomades, whose towns are movable, whose life-support- 
ing household goods can be transferred from place to place. 
We see them in the middle of the deserts, on wide green 
pasturages, lying, as it were, at anchor in their desired 
haven. Such movement, such wandering, becomes a habit 
with them, a necessity : in the end they grow to regard the 
surface of the world as if it were not bulwarked by moun- 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 283 

tains, were not cut asunder by streams. Have we not seen 
the North-east flow towards the South-west ; one people driv- 
ing another before it, and lordship and property altogether 
changed ? 

" From over-populous countries, a similar calamity ma}' 
again, in the great circle of vicissitudes, occur more than 
once. What we have to dread from foreigners, it may be 
difficult to sa}- ; but it is curious enough, that, by our own 
over- population, we ourselves are thronging one another in 
our own domains, and, without waiting to be driven, are driv- 
ing one another forth, passing sentence of banishment each 
against his fellow. 

" Here now is the place and season for giving scope in 
our bosoms, without spleen or anger, to a love of movement ; 
for unfettering that impatient wish which excites us to 
change our abode. Yet whatever we may purpose and in- 
tend, let it be accomplished, not from passion, or from any 
other influence of force, but from a conviction correspond- 
ing to the wisest judgment and deliberation. 

w ' It has been said, and over again said, Where I am well 
is my country ! But this consolatory saw were better worded, 
Where I am useful is my country ! At home you may be 
useless, and the fact not instantly observed : abroad in the 
world, the useless man is speedily convicted. And now, if I 
say, Let each endeavor everywhere to be of use to himself 
and others, this is not a precept or a counsel, but the utter- 
ance of life itself. 

" Cast a glance over the terrestrial ball, and for the pres- 
ent leave the ocean out of sight : let not its hurrying fleets 
distract your thoughts, but fix your eye on the firm earth, 
and be amazed to see how it is overflowed with a swarming 
ant- tribe, jostling and crossing, and running to and fro for- 
ever ! So was it ordained of the Lord himself, when, ob- 
structing the Tower of Babel, he scattered the human race 
abroad into all the world. Let us praise his name on this 
account, for the blessing has extended to all generations. 

''Observe now, and cheerfully, how the young, on eveiy 
side, instantly get into movement. As instruction is not 
offered them within doors, and knocks not at their gates, 
they hasten forthwith to those countries and cities whither the 
call of science and wisdom allures them. Here, no sooner have 
they gained a rapid and scanty training, than they feel them- 
selves impelled to look round in the world, whether here and 
there some profitable experience, applicable to their objects, 



284 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

may not be met with and appropriated. Let these try their 
fortune ! We turn from them to those completed and dis- 
tinguished men, those noble inquirers into nature, who wit- 
tingly encounter every difficulty, every peril, that to the 
world they may lay the world open, and, through the most 
impassable, pave eas}^ roads. 

u But observe also, on beaten highways, how dust on dust, 
in long, cloudy trains, mounts up, betokening the track of 
commodious, top-laden carriages, in which the rich, the 
noble, and so many others, are whirled aloug ; whoso vary- 
ing purposes and dispositions Yorick has most daintily ex 
plained to us. 

"These the stout craftsman, on foot, may cheerily gaze 
after ; for whom his country has made it a duty to appro- 
priate foreign skill, and not, till this has been accomplished, 
to revisit his paternal hearth. In still greater numbers do 
traffickers and dealers meet us on our road : the little trader 
must not neglect, from time to time, to forsake his shop, 
that he may visit fairs and markets, may approach the great 
merchant, and increase his own small profit, by example and 
participation of the boundless. But yet more restlessly do 
we descry cruising on horseback, singly, on all high and by 
ways, that multitude of persons whose business it is, in law- 
ful wise, to make forcible pretension to our purses. Samples 
of all sorts, prize catalogues, invitations to purchase, pursue 
us into town-houses and country-houses, and wherever we 
may seek refuge : diligently they assault us and surprise us ; 
themselves offering the opportunity, which it would have en- 
tered no man's mind to seek. And what shall I say of that 
people which, before all others, arrogates to itself the bless- 
ing of perpetual wandering, and, by its movable activity, con- 
trives to overreach the resting and to overstep the walking? 
Of them we must say neither ill nor good, — no good, because 
our League stands on its guard against them ; no ill, because 
the wanderer, mindful of reciprocal advantage, is bound to 
treat with friendliness whomsoever he may meet. 

" But now, above all, we must mention with peculiar affec- 
tion the whole race of artists ; for they, too, are thoroughly 
involved in this universal movement. Does not the painter 
wander, with palette and easel, from face to face? and are 
not his kindred laborers summoned now this way, now that, 
because in all places there is something to be built and to be 
fashioned? More briskly, however, paces the musician on 
his way ; for he peculiarly it is that for a new ear has pro- 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. .285 

vided new surprise, for a fresh mind fresh astonishment. 
Players, too, though they now despise the cart of Thespis, 
still rove about in little choirs ; and their moving world, 
wherever they appear, is speedily enough built up. So like- 
wise, individually, renouncing serious, profitable engage- 
ments, these men delight to change place with place, according 
as rising talents, combined with rising wants, furnish pretext 
and occasion. For this success they commonly prepare them- 
selves by leaving no important stage in their native land 
untrodden. 

" Nor let us forget to cast a glance over the professorial 
class : these, too, you find in continual motion, occupying 
and forsaking one chair after the other, to scatter richly 
abroad on every side the seeds of a hasty culture. More 
assiduous, however, and of wider aim, are those pious souls 
who disperse themselves through all quarters of the world to 
bring salvation to their brethren. Others, on the contrary, 
are pilgriming to seek salvation for themselves : they march 
in hosts to consecrated, wonder-working places, there to ask 
and receive what was denied their souls at home. 

' ' And if all these sorts of men surprise us less by their 
wandering, as, for most part, without wandering, the busi- 
ness of their life were impossible, of those, again, who dedi- 
cate their diligence to the soil, we should certainly expect 
that they, at least, were fixed. By no means ! Even without 
possession, occupation is conceivable ; and we behold the 
eager farmer forsaking the ground which for years had 
yielded him profit and enjoyment : impatiently he searches 
after similar or greater profit, be it far or near. Nay, the 
owner himself will abandon his new-grubbed clearage so soon 
as, by his cultivation, he has rendered it commodious for a 
less enterprising husbandman : once more he presses into the 
wilderness, again makes space for himself in the forests, — in 
recompense of that first toiling a double and treble space ; 
on which also, it may be, he thinks not to continue. 

" There we shall leave him, bickering with bears and other 
monsters, and turn back into the polished world, where we 
find the state of things no whit more stationary. Do but 
view any great and regulated kingdom : the ablest man is 
also the man who moves the oftenest; at the beck of his 
prince, at the order of his minister, the Serviceable is trans- 
ferred from place to place. To him also our precept will 
apply, Everywhere endeavor to be useful, everywhere you 
are at home Yet if we observe important statesmen leaving, 



286 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

though reluctantly, their high stations, we have reason to de 
plore their fate ; for we can neither recognize them as emi- 
grators, nor as migrators, — not as emigrators, because they 
forego a covetable situation without any prospect of a better 
even seeming to open ; not as migrators, because to be use- 
ful in other places is a fortune seldom granted them. 

" For the soldier, again, a life of peculiar wandering is ap- 
pointed : even in peace, now this, now that, post is intrusted 
to him ; to fight, at hand or afar off, for his native countiy, 
he must keep himself perpetually in motion, or readiness to 
move ; and not for immediate defence alone, but also to ful- 
fil the remote purposes of nations and rulers, he turns his 
steps towards all quarters of the world ; and to few of his 
craft is it given to find any resting-place. And as in the 
soldier courage is his first and highest quality, so this must 
always be considered as united with fidelity ; and, accordingly, 
we find certain nations famous for trustworthiness, called 
forth from their home, and serving spiritual or temporal re- 
gents as body-guards. 

" Another class of persons indispensable to governments, 
and also of extreme mobility, we see in those negotiators 
who, despatched from court to court, beleaguer princes and 
ministers, and overnet the whole inhabited world with their 
invisible threads. Of these men, also, no one is certain of 
his place for a moment. In peace, the ablest of them are 
sent from country to country ; in war, they march behind the 
army when victorious, prepare the way for it when fugitive : 
and thus are they appointed still to be changing place for 
place ; on which account, indeed, they at all times carry with 
them a stock of farewell cards. 

' 4 If hitherto at every step we have contrived to do our- 
selves some honor, declaring, as we have done, the most 
distinguished portion of active men to be our mates and 
fellows in destiny, there now remains for you, my beloved 
friends, by way of termination, a glory higher than all the 
rest, seeing you find yourselves united in brotherhood with 
princes, kings, and emperors. Think first, with blessings and 
reverence, of the imperial wanderer Hadrian, who on foot, 
at the head of his army, paced out the circle of the world 
which was subject to him, and thus in very deed took posses- 
sion of it. Think then with horror of the Conqueror, that 
armed wanderer, against whom no resistance availed, no 
wall or bulwark could shelter armed nations. In fine, accom- 
pany with honest sympathy those hapless exiled princes who, 



MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 287 

descending from the summit of the height, cannot even be 
received into the modest guild of active wanderers. 

"And now, while we call forth and illustrate all this to 
one another, no narrow despondency, no passionate perver- 
sion, can rule over us. The time is past when people rushed 
forth at random into the wide world : by the labors of scien- 
tific travellers, describing wisely and copying like artists, we 
have become sufficiently acquainted with the earth to know 
moderately well what is to be looked for everywhere. 

" Yet, for obtaining perfect information, an individual will 
not suffice. Our society is founded on the principle that 
each in his degree, for his purposes, be thoroughly informed. 
Has any one of us some country in his eye, towards which 
his wishes are tending, we endeavor to make clear to him, 
in special detail, what was hovering before his imagination 
as a whole : to afford each other a survey of the inhabited 
and inhabitable world is a most pleasant and most profitable 
kind of conversation. 

" Under this aspect we can look upon ourselves as mem- 
bers of a Union belonging to the world. Simple and grand 
is the thought, easy is its execution by understanding and 
strength. Unity is all-powerful ; no division, therefore, no 
contention, among us ! Let a man learn, we say, to figure 
himself as without permanent external relation : let him seek 
consistency and sequence, not in circumstances, but in him- 
self ; there will he find it ; there let him cherish and nourish 
it. He who devotes himself to the most needful will, in all 
cases, advance to his purpose with greatest certainty : others, 
again, aiming at the higher, the more delicate, require greater 
prudence even, in the choice of their path. But let a man be 
attempting or treating what he will, he is not, as an indi- 
vidual, sufficient for himself ; and, to an honest mind, society 
remains the highest want. All serviceable persons ought to 
be related with each other ; as the building proprietor looks 
out for an architect, and the architect for masons and car- 
penters. 

"• How and on what principle this Union of ours' has been 
fixed and founded is known to all. There is no man among 
us who at any moment could not to proper purpose employ 
his faculty of action, who is not assured that in all places 
whither chance, inclination, or even passion may conduct 
him, he will be received, employed, assisted, — nay, in ad- 
verse accidents, as far as possible, refitted and indemnified. 

" Two duties we have most rigorously undertaken, — first, 



288 MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 

to honor every species of religions worship ; for all of them 
are comprehended more or less directly in the Creed : sec- 
ondly, in like manner to respect all forms of government, 
and, since every one of them induces and promotes a calcu- 
lated activity, to labor according to the wish and will of con- 
stituted authorities, in whatever place it may be our lot to 
sojourn, and for whatever time. Finally, we reckon it our 
duty, without pedantry or rigor, to practise and forward de- 
corum of manners and morals, as required by that reverence 
for ourselves which arises from the three reverences, whereto 
we universally profess our adherence ; having all had the 
joy and good fortune, some of us from youth upwards, to 
be initiated likewise in the higher general wisdom taught in 
certain cases by those venerable men. All this, in the solemn 
hour of parting, we have thought good once more to recount, 
to unfold, to hear and acknowledge, as also to seal with a 
trustful farewell. 

" Keep not standing, fixed and rooted, 

Briskly venture, briskly roam : 
Head and hand, where'er thou foot it, 

And stout heart, are still at home. 
In each land the sun does visit : 

We are gay whate'er betide. 
To give space for wand' ring is it 

That the world was made so wide." 



THE RECREATIONS 

OF 

THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS 



10— Goethe 



The Kecreations op the German Emigrants. 



At that unhappy period, so fruitful in disasters to Ger- 
many, to Europe, and, indeed, to the whole world, when the 
French army overran the Continent, a family of distinction 
was compelled to forsake their property on the first invasion, 
and to flee across the Rhine. They sought to escape those 
calamities to which persons of noble birth were inevitably 
exposed, in whom it was considered criminal to be descended 
from an honorable line of ancestors, and to inherit those 
privileges and possessions which the virtues or the valor of 
their forefathers had bequeathed to them. 

The Baroness of C , a widow lady of middle age, dis- 
tinguished for every domestic virtue which could promote the 
comfort or independence of her family, evinced, upon the oc- 
casion of this unforeseen calamity, the most noble spirit of 
activity and resolute determination. Brought up amidst a 
wide circle of acquaintances, and, to some* extent, already 
experienced in the reverses of life, she was considered perfect 
in her private and domestic character, and was remarkable 
for the real delight she ever felt in the active employment of 
her faculties. Indeed, the great purpose of her life seemed 
to consist in rendering services to others ; and it is easy to 
suppose that her numerous friends never failed to provide 
her with employment. She was summoned, at the time we 
speak of, to take the lead of a little band of emigrants. 
Even for this duty she was prepared ; and the same solici- 
tous though cheerful temper, which had invariably distin- 
guished her at home, did not forsake her in this hour of 
general terror and distress. But cheerfulness was not an 
entire stranger to our band of fugitives : many an unexpected 
incident and strange event afforded occasion for the indul- 

291 



292 THE RECREATIONS OF 

gence of mirth and laughter, of which their easily excited 
minds readily took advantage. The very flight itself was 
a circumstance well calculated to call out each individual's 
peculiar character in a remarkable manner. The mind of 
one, for instance, was distracted by vain fear and terror ; 
another fell a prey to idle apprehensions ; and the extrava- 
gances and deficiencies, the weakness, irresolution, or impetu- 
osity, which were displayed on all sides, produced so many 
instances of vexation and bad temper, that the real trouble 
of the whole party afforded more mirth than an actual pleas- 
ure trip could possibly have occasioned. 

As we may sometimes preserve our composure, even dur- 
ing the performance of a farce, without smiling at the most 
positive drolleries ; though we find it impossible to restrain 
our laughter when any thing absurd occurs in the represen- 
tation of a tragedy, — so in this real world, the generalit} r of 
accidents of a serious nature are accompanied by circum- 
stances either ridiculous at the moment, or infallibly pro- 
ductive of subsequent mirth. 

We must observe that the baroness's eldest daughter, 
Louisa, a cheerful, lively, and, at the time of their prosper- 
ity, an imperious young lady, had to endure an unusual 
degree of suffering. She is said to have been quite over- 
whelmed with terror at the first alarm, and, in her distrac- 
tion and absence of mind, to have packed together the most 
useless things with the greatest seriousness, and actually 
to have made an offer of marriage to one of the old ser- 
vants of the establishment. 

She defended herself for this step with much obstinacy, 
and would not allow her intended to be made a subject of 
ridicule. In her opinion she suffered enough from her daily 
fear of the allied army, and from the apprehension that her 
wished-for marriage might be delayed, or even frustrated, 
by a general engagement. 

Her elder brother, Frederick, who was a youth of decisive 
character, executed his mother's orders with precision and 
exactitude, accompanied the procession on horseback, and 
discharged at times the various duties of courier, conductor, 
and guide. The tutor of the baroness's younger son, who 
was a well-educated young man, accompanied her in her 
carriage ; whilst uncle Charles, and an elderly clergyman, 
who had long been an indispensable friend of the family, 
followed in another vehicle, which was also occupied by two 
female relations, one young, the other somewhat advanced 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 293 

in years. The servants followed in an open carriage ; and 
the procession was closed by a heavily packed wagon, which 
occasionally loitered behind. 

The whole party, as may easily be supposed, had aban- 
doned their dwellings with great reluctance ; but uncle Charles 
had forsaken his residence on this side of the Rhine even more 
unwillingly than the others, not that he had left his mistress 
behind, as one might, perhaps, have conjectured from his 
youth, his figure, and the warmth of his nature : he had 
rather been seduced by the brilliant phantom, which, under 
the denomination of freedom, had secured so many adher- 
ents, first in secret, then in public, and which, notwithstand- 
ing that she was to some a harsh mistress, was all the more 
devotedly honored by the others. 

Just as lovers are generally blinded by their passion, it 
did happen in the case of uncle Charles. They pant for the 
possession of a single happiness, and fancy that for this 
they can endure the privation of every other blessing. Posi- 
tion, fortune, and all advantages, vanish into nothing, com- 
pared with the one benefit which is to supply their place. 
Parents, relatives, and friends are now looked uj3on as stran- 
gers. One desire fills and absorbs their whole being, to 
which every thing else is to give way. 

Uncle Charles abandoned himself to the intensity of his 
passion, and did not conceal it in his conversation. He 
thought he might express his conviction the more freely, 
because he was of noble birth, and, although the second son, 
yet the presumptive heir to a noble fortune. Even this for- 
tune, which was to be his future inheritance, was at present 
in the enemy's hands, by whom it had been shamefully 
wasted. But, in spite of all this, Charles could not hate a 
nation which promised such advantages to the world at 
large, and whose principles he approved, according to his 
own admission, and the evidence of some of his associates. 
He constantly disturbed the peace of the little community 
(seldom as they enjoyed such a blessing) by an indiscrimi- 
nate praise of every thing, good or bad, which happened 
amongst the French, and by his noisy delight at their suc- 
cess. By this means he irritated his companions, who felt 
their own grievances doubly aggravated by the malicious 
triumphs of their friend and relation. 

Frederick had already been engaged in frequent disputes 
with him, and latterly they had ceased to hold communica- 
tion with each other. But the baroness, by her prudent 



294 THE RECREATIONS OF 

management, had secured his moderation, at least for a 
time. Louisa gave him the greatest trouble, for she often 
used the most unfair methods to cast a slur upon his char- 
acter and judgment. The tutor silently pronounced him 
right, the clergyman silently pronounced him wrong : and 
the female attendants, who were charmed with his figure 
and with his liberality, heard him with delight; because, 
whilst they listened to his lectures, they could honorably 
fix on him those loving eyes, which, until that time, had 
ever been modestly bent upon the ground. 

Their daily necessities, the obstacles of the journey, and 
their disagreeable quarters, generally led the whole com- 
pany to a consideration of their immediate interests ; and 
the great number of French and German fugitives whom 
they constantly met, and whose conduct and fortunes were 
various, often made them consider how much occasion ex- 
isted at such times for the practice of every virtue, but par- 
ticularly of liberality and forbearance. 

The baroness, on one occasion, observed aloud, that noth- 
ing could show more clearly the deficiencies of men in these 
virtues than the opportunity afforded for their exercise, 
by occasions of general confusion and distress. Our whole 
constitution, she maintained, resembled a ship chartered in 
a season of tempest, to convey a countless crowd of men, 
old and young, healthy and infirm, across a stormy sea ; but 
only in the hour of shipwreck could the capabilities of the 
crew be displayed, — an emergency when even the good 
swimmer often perished. 

Fugitives, for the most part, carry their faults and ridicu- 
lous peculiarities along with them ; and we wonder at this 
circumstance. But as the English traveller never leaves his 
teakettle behind in any quarter of the globe ; so are the 
generality of mankind invariably accompanied by their stock 
of proud pretensions, vanity, intolerance, impatience, obsti- 
wxcy, prejudices, and envy. Thus, the thoughtless enjoyed 
this flight as they would have enjoyed a party of pleasure ; 
and the discontented required, even now in their moments of 
abject povert} 7 , that their every want should be supplied. 
How rare is the display of that pure virtue which incites us 
to live and sacrifice ourselves for others ! 

In the mean time, whilst numerous acquaintances were 
formed, which gave occasion to reflections of this nature, 
the season of winter was brought to a close. Fortune once 
more smiled on the German arms, the French were again 



THE GERM AX EMIGRANTS. 295 

driven across the Rhine, Frankfort was relieved, and Mainz 
was invested. 

Trusting to the farther advance of our victorious troops, 
and anxious to take possession of a part of their recovered 
property, the family we speak of set out for an estate situ- 
ated in one of the most beautiful parts of the country, on the 
right bank of the Rhine. We can ill describe the rapture 
with # which 'they once more beheld the silver stream flowing 
beneath their windows, the joy with which they took pos- 
session of every part of their house, and hailed the sight of 
their well-known furniture, their old family pictures, and 
of every trifle they had long given up as totally lost ; and 
they indulged the fondest anticipations of finding every 
thing flourishing as heretofore on their side of the Rhine. 

The arrival of the baroness had scarcely been announced 
in the village, when all her former acquaintances, friends, 
and dependants hastened to welcome her, to recount the 
various vicissitudes of the last few months, and, in more 
than one instance, to implore her advice and assistance. 

In the midst of these interviews, she was most agreeably 
surprised by a visit from the Privy Councillor S. and his 
family, a man who, from his earliest youth, had followed 
business as a pursuit of pleasure, and who had both merited 
and acquired the confidence of his sovereign. His principles 
were firm, and he indulged his own peculiar notions upon 
many subjects. He was precise, both in his conversation and 
conduct, and required others to be so too. A dignified de- 
portment was, in his opinion, the highest virtue a man could 
possess. 

His sovereign, his country, and himself had suffered much 
from the invasion of the French. He had experienced the 
despotic character of that nation who were perpetually boast- 
ing of justice, and had felt the tyranny of men who always 
had the cry of freedom on their lips. He had observed, 
however, the general consistency of character which pre- 
vailed, and had marked how many persons witnessed, with 
feelings of angry disappointment, the substitution of mere 
words for practice, and of empty appearance for reality. 
The consequences to be expected from an unfortunate cam- 
paign did not escape his acute penetration any more than 
the results of the general maxims and opinions we have 
quoted, though it must be admitted his views upon all sub- 
jects were neither cheerful nor dispassionate. 

His wife, who had been an early friend of the baroness. 



296 THE RECREATIONS OF 

after the experience of so much adversity found a perfect 
paradise in the arms of her former companion. They had 
grown up together, had been educated together, and had 
always shared each other's confidence. The early inclina- 
tions of their youth, their more important matrimonial inter- 
ests, their joys and cares and domestic anxieties, had always 
been communicated, either personally or by correspondence, 
as they had for years maintained an uninterrupted intimacy 
with each other ; but this was at length broken by the general 
troubles of the eventful times. Their present intercourse 
was, for this reason, the more affectionate, and their inter- 
views the more frequent ; and the baroness observed with 
pleasure, that the intimacy of Louisa with the daughters of 
her friend was daily increasing. 

Unfortunately the complete enjoyment of that delightful 
part of the country was often disturbed by the roar of 
cannon, which was heard in the distance, sometimes loudly 
and sometimes indistinctly, according to the point of the 
wind. Moreover, it was impossible to avoid conversations 
upon political subjects, which were introduced by the per- 
petual rumors of the day, and which generally disturbed the 
temporary tranquillity of society ; as the various ideas and 
opinions of all parties were usually propounded without 
reserve. 

And as intemperate men seldom refrain from wine or inju- 
rious food on account of their experience of the evil conse- 
quences which such enjoyments occasion ; so, in this instance, 
the several members of the society we speak of, in place 
of imposing restraint upon their conversation, abandoned 
themselves to the irresistible impulse of vexing each other, 
and thus eventually opened a channel of most disagreeable 
reflections. 

We can readily suppose that the privy councillor adopted 
the opinions of those who advocated the old regime, and 
that Charles took the opposite side, in expectation that the 
approaching changes would heal and re-animate the old, 
shattered constitution of the country. 

The conversation was carried on at first with some degree 
of moderation, particularly as the baroness sought, by her 
well-timed and graceful interruptions, to maintain the balance 
equal between both parties ; but when the important crisis 
of the conversation arrived, and the investment of Mainz 
was about to change to an actual siege, and the fears of all 
increased for that beautiful city and its abandoned inhabit- 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 297 

ants, both sides asserted their opinions with unrestrained 
violence. 

The members of the clubs who had remained in the town 
were particularly discussed ; and each expressed his hope of 
their liberation or punishment, according as he approved or 
condemned their conduct. 

Amongst the latter class was the privy councillor, whose 
observations were especially displeasing to Charles ; as he 
assailed the sound judgment of those people, and charged 
them with a thorough ignorance of the world and of them- 
selves. 

"What blind dolts they must be!" he exclaimed one 
afternoon when the discussion became warm, " to think that 
a great nation, employed in an effort to suppress its own 
internal commotions, and which, in sober moments, has no 
other object than its own prosperity, can look down upon 
them with any sort of sympathy. Used as temporary tools, 
they will at last be thrown away or utterly neglected. How 
grossly they err in thinking that they will ever be admitted 
into the ranks of the French nation ! 

"Nothing seems more ridiculous to the strong and power- 
ful than weakness and inefficiency setting up its pretensions 
to equality, wrapped in the obscurity of its own fancies, and 
in the ignorance of itself, its powers, and its qualities. 
And can you suppose that the great nation, with that good 
fortune with which it has been hitherto favored, will be less 
haughty and overbearing than any other royal conqueror? 

"Many a person, who now struts about in his municipal 
robes and gaudy attire, will heartily curse the masquerade 
when, after having helped to oppress his countrymen, by a 
new and disadvantageous change of things he finds himself 
at last, in his new character, despised by those in whom he 
wholly confided. Indeed, it is my firm opinion, that upon 
the surrender of the town, which must soon take place, those 
people will be abandoned or given up to us. I hope they will 
then receive their reward in that punishment they so richly 
deserve, according to my opinion, which is as unprejudiced 
as possible." 

" Unprejudiced! " exclaimed Charles with vehemence: 
" I beg I may never hear that word again. How can we 
so unequivocally condemn these men ? Have they not actu- 
ally devoted their whole lives to the old pursuit of serving 
the more favored classes of mankind? Have they not 
occupied the few habitable rooms of the old mansion, and 



298 THE RECREATIONS OF 

toiled diligently therein? or, rather, have they not felt the 
inconvenience of the deserted part of your state palace, 
by the obligation of living there in a state of misery and 
oppression? Uncorrupted by frivolous pursuits, they do not 
consider their own occupation to be alone noble ; but in 
silence they deplore the prejudice, the irregularity, the indo- 
lence and ignorance upon which your statesmen build their 
foolish claims to reverence, and in silence they praj r for a 
more equal division of labor and enjoyment.. And who can 
deny that their ranks contain at least some such men of 
intelligence and virtue, who, if they cannot now realize 
universal good, can fortunately aid in modifying evil and 
in preparing for a happy future? and, if there be such noble 
beings amongst them, should we not deplore the approach 
of that evil hour which must destroy, perhaps forever, their 
fondest anticipations ? 

The privy councillor, upon this, sneered with some degree 
of bitterness at certain youths who were in the habit of 
idealizing upon practical subjects ; whilst Charles was equally 
severe upon men whose thoughts were merely formed upon 
antiquated precedents, and who never adopted any but com- 
pulsory reforms. 

By reciprocal contradictions of this nature, the dispute 
became gradually more violent ; and every topic was intro- 
duced which has for so many years tended to dismember 
society. In vain did the baroness endeavor to establish a 
truce, if not to make peace, between the contending parties ; 
and the wife of the privy councillor, who from her estimable 
qualities had acquired some influence over Charles's dispo- 
sition, interposed also to no effect, more particularly as her 
husband continued to launch his poisoned shafts against 
youth and inexperience, and enlarged upon the especial apti- 
tude of children to play with fire, a dangerous element which 
they were wholly unable to control. 

Charles, forgetting prudence in his anger, now declared 
openly that he wished every success to the French arms, 
and called upon all his countrymen to aid in putting an end 
to their general slavery ; expressing his conviction that their 
sc -called enemies would protect every noble German who 
should join them, would regard them and treat them as their 
own countrymen, and crown them with honors, fortune, 
and rewards, in place of sacrificing or leaving them in 
misery. 

But the councillor maintained it was ridiculous to suppose 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 299 

that the French would bestow a thought upon them, whether 
the}^ capitulated or not ; that they would probably fall into 
the hands of the allies, by whom he hoped they would all 
be hanged. 

Charles was provoked by this speech, and expressed his 
wish that the guillotine might find a rich harvest in Ger- 
many, and that no guilty head might escape. He added 
some cutting observations which were aimed at the coun- 
cillor personally, and were in every sense offensive. 

"I shall take leave of a society," interrupted the latter, 
' ; in which every thing is now slighted which once seemed 
worthy of respect. I lament that I should be for the second 
time expelled, and now by a fellow-countryman ; but I am 
well aware that less pity may be expected from this new foe 
than from the French themselves : and I find here a con- 
firmation of the old proverb, that it is better to fall into the 
hands of the Turks than of renegades." 

80 saying, he rose, and left the apartment. He was fol- 
lowed by his wife, and a general silence ensued. The 
baroness expressed her displeasure in a few words of strong 
import. Charles walked up and down the room. The coun- 
cillor's wife returned in tears, and stated that her husband 
had given directions for leaving, and had actually ordered 
the carriage. The baroness went to pacify him ; whilst the 
young ladies wept, and kissed each other, distressed beyond 
measure that they were compelled so suddenly and so un- 
expectedly to separate. The baroness returned without 
succeeding in her wishes. Gradually all those troubles 
approached which it is ever the lot of strangers to encounter. 
The sad moments of separation and departure were bitter 
beyond expression. Hope vanished with the appearance of 
the post-horses, and the general sorrow was redoubled. 

The carriage drove off. The baroness followed it with 
her eyes full of tears. She left the window, and sat down 
to her embroidery-frame. The silence, and even despair, 
was universal. Charles showed his sorrow by sitting in a 
corner, and intently turning over the leaves of a book, 
directing at intervals a melancholy look towards his aunt. 
At length he rose, and took his hat, as if about to depart, 
but turned round on reaching the door, and approaching his 
aunt he exclaimed, with a countenance truly noble, " I have 
offended you, my dear aunt, I have distressed you ; but 
pardon my thoughtlessness : I acknowledge my fault, and 
am deeply sensible of its sac! 'onsefiuences." 



800 THE RECREATIONS OF 

• 

" I forgive you," replied the baroness : "I entertain no ill- 
feeling towards you, — you are a good and noble being, but 
you can never repair the injury you have done. Your error 
has deprived me of a friend to whom, after a long sepa- 
ration, I had been restored by the accident of our joint 
misfortunes, and in whose society I have forgotten much of 
the misery which has pursued and threatens us. She her- 
self, driven from her home under most painful circum- 
stances, and long a fugitive, after a short repose in the 
society of old and beloved friends, in this delightful spot 
and comfortable dwelling, is again compelled to wander 
forth ; and we lose the company of her husband, who, in 
spite of some peculiarities, is a man of noble integrity, 
possessing an inexhaustible knowledge of society and of 
the world, of facts and experiences which he is ever ready 
to communicate with the most cheerful and delightful will- 
ingness. Of all these enjoyments we have been deprived by 
your fault, and how can you restore what we have lost? " 

Charles. Spare me, my dear aunt. I feel deeply the 
weight of my fault : cease to explain to me its evident 
consequences. 

Baroness. Rather contemplate them as closely as pos- 
sible. Talk not of sparing you : only inquire how your 
mind may be corrected. It is not the first time you have 
thus erred, nor will it be the last. Ye inexplicable men ! 
Cannot even misery, which brings you together under one 
roof, and confines you in one narrow dwelling, induce you to 
practise forbearance towards each other? Do you need any 
additional calamities besides those which are perpetually 
bursting upon you? Consider your condition, and act sen- 
sibly and justly towards those who, in truth, would deprive 
you of nothing. Restrain your tempers from working and 
fermenting blindly, like some storm or other natural phe- 
nomenon which disturbs the world. 

Charles made no reply. The tutor advanced from the 
window, where he had been standing, towards the baroness, 
and said his pupil would improve ; that this event would act 
as a warning, that he should test his progress daily, that he 
would remember the distress the baroness had endured, and 
would afford convincing evidence of the self-restraint he 
could practice. 

Baroness. How easily men deceive themselves, espe- 
cially in this particular. Authority is so delightful a word, 
and it sounds so noble to promise to control ourselves. Men 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 301 

speak of it with pleasure, and would persuade us that they 
cau seriously practise the virtue. I wish I had ever known 
a man capable of subduing himself in the smallest particular. 
In indifferent matters they affect resolution, as if the loss 
occasioned actual suffering ; whilst their real desires are con- 
sidered as supremely essential, unavoidable, and indispensa- 
ble. I have never known a man capable of enduring the 
smallest privation. 

Tutor. You are seldom unjust, and I have never seen you 
so overpowered by anger and disappointment as at present. 

Baroness. Well, I need not be ashamed of my anger. 
When I think of my friend, who is now pursuing her jour- 
ney in discomfort, weeping, probably, at the recollection of 
our inhospitality, my heart burns with indignation. 

Tutor. In your greatest trouble, I have never seen you 
so agitated and exasperated as now. 

Baroness. A small evil, which follows closely upon a 
greater, can fill the cup ; though, in truth, it is no small evil 
to lose a friend. 

Tutor. Be comforted, and rely upon our improvement, 
and that we will do all in our power to content } t ou. 

Baroness. No : I shall rely upon none of you. But, for 
the future, I will demand obedience from all. I will com- 
mand in my own house. 

"Command, certainly!" exclaimed Charles; "and you 
shall not have to complain of our disobedience." 

"My severity will scarcely be very harsh," rejoined the 
baroness, with a smile, as she recovered herself : "I am not 
fond of commanding, particularly democrats ; but I will give 
you some advice, and make one request." 

Tutor. Both shall we consider as laws to be strictly 
observed. 

Baroness. It would be ridiculous," if I thought to impair 
the interest you all take in the great events of the world, — 
events, the victims of which we ourselves have become. I 
cannot change the opinions which' exist and are established 
in the mind of each of you, according to his peculiar dis- 
position ; and it would be no less harsh than foolish to re- 
quire of you to suppress them. But I can demand this, at 
least, from the circle in which I live, that those of similar 
sentiments shall associate peaceably together, and converse 
in harmony. In your private apartments, during your walks, 
and wherever else you meet, you may communicate together 
at will, support your respective opinions, and enjoy the grati- 



302 THE RECREATIONS OF 

fication of an ardent conviction. But, my dear friends, let 
us not forget how much we were accustomed to sacrifice of 
our own individual opinions, for the sake of general har- 
mony, long before these new topics became the fashion ; and, 
as long as the world lasts, we must all, for the general bene- 
fit, practise some outward self-control. It is not, therefore, 
for the sake of virtue, but in the name of common politeness, 
that I implore you now to concede to me a favor which I 
think I may safely say you have always granted to the veri- 
est stranger. 

It seems to me strange, continued the baroness, that we 
should have so far forgotten ourselves. What has become of 
our politeness? It used to be the custom in societ}^ to avoid 
topics disagreeable to others. Protestants, in the company 
of Catholics, never asserted that church ceremonies were 
ridiculous ; and the most bigoted Catholic never maintained, 
before a Protestant, that the old religion afforded the only 
chance of salvation. In the presence of a mother who had 
lost her son, no one displayed the deep delight he took in his 
children ; and an inappropriate word occasioned general em- 
barrassment. It seemed the duty of each to repair the 
accidental evil, but now the very reverse of all this seems to 
be the rule. We appear to seek the opportunity of introdu- 
cing subjects calculated to give pain. Oh, my dear friends, 
let us try and restore the old system ! We have much to 
endure already ; and who knows how soon the smoke of the 
day, or the flames of the night, may announce the destruction 
of our dwellings and of our most valued possessions ? Let 
us, at least, forbear to announce this intelligence with tri- 
umph : let us cease, by our own bitter observations, to im- 
press our souls with calamities which it is painful enough to 
endure in silence. 

When your father died, was it your habit to renew my grief 
upon every opportunity by a reference to the sad subject? 
Did you not rather avoid all improper allusion to his memory, 
and seek by your love, your silent sympathy, and your inces- 
sant attentions, to soften my sorrow and relieve my pain? 
Should not we now practise the same kind forbearance, which 
often brings more consolation than the offices of active friend- 
ship, more particularly at this time, when ours is not the 
grief of an individual in the midst of a happy multitude, 
where sorrow disappears amid the general content, but the 
grief of thousands, where but few indeed are capable of ex- 
periencing an accidental or artificial consolation? 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 303 

Charles. My dear aunt, you have sufficiently humiliated 
us : may we take your hand in token of reconciliation ? 

Baroness. Here it is, on condition that you will obey its 
guidance. We proclaim a general amnesty, which it is now 
barely possible to resolve upon with sufficient speed. 

The young ladies, who had all been dissolved in tears since 
the event we have related, now made their appearance, but 
could not be persuaded to be reconciled to Charles. 

41 You are welcome, children," said the baroness, address- 
ing them. " We have just had a serious conversation, which, 
I trust, will establish peace and harmony amongst us : per- 
haps it was never more important that we should be friends, 
and enjoy even one brief portion of the day. Let us make 
this resolution, to banish from our conversation all reference 
to the mere events of the time. How long have we been de- 
prived of all instruction and entertaining intercourse ! How 
long it seems, dear Charles, since you have amused us with 
accounts of distant lands, with whose productions, inhabit- 
ants, manners, and customs, you are so well acquainted ! 
And you," continued the baroness, addressing the tutor, 
u you have not lately instructed us in history, ancient or mod- 
ern, in the comparison of centuries or of remarkable men. 
And you, young ladies ! where are the pretty poems you used 
to bring forth from their hiding-places for the delight of your 
friends ? what has become of all your free philosophic obser- 
vations ? Have you no more ambition to surprise us with 
some wonderful mineral specimen, some unknown plant, or 
remarkable insect, brought home from your walks, and af- 
fording occasion for pleasing speculations on the mysterious 
connection of all the productions of nature ? Let us restore 
all those charming amusements by an agreement, a resolu- 
tion, a rule, to be useful, instructive, and, above all things, 
companionable, towards each other ; for all these advantages 
we can enjoy, even in the most extreme adversity. Your 
promise, children." 

They promised eagerly. " And now I dismiss you," 
added the baroness : " the evening is fine, amuse yourselves 
as you please ; and at supper-time let us enjoy a friendly 
communion together, after so long an interruption." 

The company separated. Louisa alone remained with her 
mother. She could not so easily forget the misfortune of 
losing her companion, and allowed Charles, whom she had 
invited to accompany her upon a walk, to set out alone. 
For some time the baroness and her daughter remained to- 



B04 THE RECREATIONS OF 

gether, when the clergyman entered, after a long absence, 
entirely ignorant of what had, in the mean time, happened. 
Laying by his hat and stick, he took a seat, and was about 
to narrate something, when Louisa, pretending to continue 
a conversation with her mother, cut short his intention with 
the following observations : — 

"Some of our company will, I think, find the arrange- 
ment we have come to rather disagreeable. When we lived 
in the country, it is true, we were sometimes at a loss for 
conversation ; for it did not happen so often, as in town, 
that a girl could be slandered, or a young man traduced : 
but still we had an alternative in describing the follies of 
two great nations, in finding the Germans as absurd as the 
French, and in representing first one, and then the other, as 
Jacobins and Radicals. But, if these topics are forbidden, 
some of our society will be rendered stupid." 

" Is this attack aimed at me, young lady? " asked the old 
clergyman with a smile. " You know how ready I am to be 
sacrificed for the benefit of the company. For though upon 
all occasions you do credit to your instructors, and every 
one finds your society both amiable and delightful, yet there 
is a certain little malicious spirit within you, which, notwith- 
standing all your efforts, you cannot entirely subdue, and 
which prompts you to take your revenge at my expense. 
Tell me, gracious lady," he continued, turning towards the 
baroness, " what has occurred during my absence, and what 
topics have been excluded from our society ? ' ' 

The baroness informed him of all that had taken place. 
He listened attentively, and then observed that " this regu- 
lation would probably enable many persons to entertain the 
company better than others.' * 

" We shall be able to endure it," said Louisa. 

"Such an arrangement," he added, "will not be grievous 
to those who have been accustomed to rely upon their own 
resources : on the contrary, they will find it pleasant ; since 
they can amuse the company with such pursuits as they have 
followed in private. And do not be offended, young lady, 
if I attribute to society the very existence of all newsmon- 
gers, spies, and slanderers. For my part, I never see per- 
sons so lively and so animated, either at a learned meeting 
or at a public lecture convened for general instruction, as in 
a society where some piece of scandal is introduced which 
reflects on the character of a neighbor. Ask yourself, or 
ask others, what invests a piece of news with its greatest 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 306 

charm? Not its importance, nor its influence, but its mere 
novelty. Nothing old is cared for : novelty by itself excites 
our surprise, awakens the imagination, gently agitates the 
feelings, and requires no exertion of the reasoning powers. 
Every man can take the most lively interest in a piece of 
news with the least trouble to himself : indeed, since a suc- 
cession of new events carries us rapidly from one circum- 
stance to another, nothing is more welcome to the generality 
of mankind than this inducement to constant diversion, and 
this opportunity of venting their spleen and malice in an 
agreeable and varied manner.' ' 

"Well!" exclaimed Louisa, "you show some skill at 
explanation : just now you censured individuals, at present 
you condemn mankind in general.' ' 

"I do not require," he answered, "that you should ren- 
der me justice : but this I must say, we who depend upon 
society must act according to its rules ; and it would be safer 
to provoke its resentment than its ennui, by requiring it to 
think or reflect. We must avoid every thing that would 
tend to this result, and pursue by ourselves in private what- 
ever would prove unpalatable to the public." 

" By yourselves in private," said Louisa, " many a bottle 
of wine will, I suppose, be drunk, and many a nap taken in 
the daytime." 

" I have never," continued the old clergyman, " set much 
value upon my own actions ; for I know how little I have 
done for others : I am, however, in possession of something 
which may, perhaps, afford agreeable relaxation to this 
societ} T , circumstanced as it is at present." 

" To what do you allude? " inquired the baroness. 

" Rely upon it," interrupted Louisa, " he has made some 
marvellous collection of scandals." 

"You are mistaken," replied the clergyman. 

" We shall see," answered Louisa. 

"Let him continue, my dear," said the baroness : "and 
do not accustom yourself to act in a hard and unfriendly 
manner towards others, even in jest ; as they may take it ill. 
We have no need to increase our evil habits by practising 
them for entertainment. Tell me, my dear friend, of what 
does your collection consist? Will it conduce to our amuse- 
ment? Have you been long employed about it? Why have 
you never mentioned it before ? ' ' 

" I will give you an account of the whole matter," re- 
joined the old clergyman. " I have lived long in the worlds 



•306 THE RECREATIONS OF 

and have paid much attention to public occurrences. I have 
neither talent nor inclination for chronicling great actions, 
and worldly affairs in general are troublesome to me ; but 
amongst the many private histories, true and false, which 
sometimes happen in public or are related in private, there 
are some which possess a greater attraction than the charm 
of mere novelty, some which are calculated to improve us by 
their moral application, some which display at a glance the 
secret springs of human nature, and others, again, whose 
very absurdities are amusing. Amongst the multitude of 
occurrences which attract our attention and our malice in 
ordinary life, and which are as common as the individuals 
to whom they relate, I have noted down a few on account 
of their peculiar character, because they engaged and ex- 
cited my attention and feelings ; and the very recollection of 
them has never failed to produce a momentar}' sensation 
of pure and tranquil pleasure." 

" I am curious to hear," said the baroness, " the nature 
of your anecdotes, and to learn their peculiar character." 

u ' You may easily suppose," replied the clergyman, " that 
they are not about disputes or family matters. Such things 
have little interest except for those who are engaged in 
them." 

Louisa. And what are yours about? 

Clergyman. Why, for the most part, they treat of those 
emotions by which friends become attached or disunited, 
happy or miserable, and by which they are more frequently 
entangled than improved. 

Louisa. Indeed ! I suppose you will produce a collec- 
tion of merry adventures for our instruction and improve- 
ment. Excuse me for making this observation, dear mamma ; 
it seems so evident : and it is, of course, allowable to speak 
the truth. 

Clergyman. I suspect that you will not find any thing in 
the whole collection which may be styled merry. 

Louisa. — And what would you consider of that descrip- 
tion? 

Clergyman. Scandalous dialogues or situations are my 
abhorrence. I object equally that common adventures, which 
are unworthy of engaging our attention, should be told with 
exaggerated importance : they excite our expectations un- 
duly, in place of giving real pleasure to the mind. They 
make a mystery of that which should be wholly unveiled, or 
from which we should altogether turn our eyes. 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 307 

Louisa. I do not understand you. You will, however, 
relate your stories with some degree of elegance. I hope our 
ears will not be offended by any coarse adventures. You 
must consider us in the light of a ladies' seminary, and look 
for our thanks as your recompense. 

Clergyman. Nothing of the sort. But, in truth, you will 
hear nothing new, particularly as I have, for some time back, 
observed that you never miss the perusal of certain criti- 
cisms in some of the learned reviews. 

Louisa. You are really too bad. 

Clergyman. You are engaged to be married, and I there- 
fore pardon you. But I am obliged to show that I also 
possess arrows which I know how to use. 

Baroness. I see your object plainly, but you must let 
her see it likewise. 

Clergyman. Then, I must repeat what I said at the begin- 
ning of this conversation. But it seems you had not the 
politeness to pay attention. 

Louisa. What is the use of attention or of much argu- 
ment? Look at the matter in any light, they will be scan- 
dalous stories, in some shape or other, and nothing else. 

Clergyman. Must I repeat, young lady, that a well- 
regulated mind only perceives scandal when it reads of 
wickedness, arrogance, a desire to injure, and an unwilling- 
ness to oblige ? and from such spectacles he should avert his 
eyes. He finds pleasure in the narration of trifling faults 
and failings, and contemplates with satisfaction those points 
of the story where good men contend with themselves, with 
their desires and their intentions, where silly and conceited 
mortals are rebuked, corrected, or deceived, and where 
hopes, wishes, and designs are disturbed, interrupted, and 
frustrated, or unexpectedly fulfilled, accomplished, and con- 
firmed. But, on those scenes where accident combines with" 
human weakness and inefficiency, he dwells with the greatest 
delight ; and none of the heroes whose history he authenti- 
cates has either blame to apprehend or praise to expect from 
him. 

Baroness. Your introduction excites our wish to hear a 
specimen. We have spent the greater part of our lifetime 
in one circle, and have never experienced any thing worthy 
to find a place in such a collection. 

Clergyman. Much undoubtedly depends upon the ob- 
server, and upon the peculiar view he takes of occurrences. 
But I will not deny that I have made large extracts from old 



308 THE RECREATIONS OF 

books and traditions. Perhaps you will have no objection 
to see some of your old friends with new faces. And this 
gives me a privilege of which I must not be deprived, — that 
none of my tales shall be doubted. 

Louisa. But we are not to be prevented from recogniz- 
ing our friends and acquaintances, or, if we please, from 
expounding the enigma. 

Clergyman. Certainly not. But you will allow me, under 
such circumstances, to produce an old folio, to prove that 
the identical occurrence happened, and was made matter of 
record, some centuries ago. And I must be permitted to 
smile, when some narration is pronounced to be an old fable, 
though it may have taken place amongst ourselves, without 
our being able to recognize the characters. 

Louisa. We shall never begin. Had we not better de- 
clare a truce for this evening ; and do you commence a story 
at once, by way of specimen? 

Clergyman. Permit me, in this instance, to be guilty of 
disobedience. The entertainment is intended for the whole 
assembled company. We must not deprive them of it ; and 
I must premise beforehand, that whatever I have to say pos- 
sesses no value in itself. But when my audience, after some 
serious occupation, wishes for a brief repose, and, already sated 
with good things, desires the addition of a light dessert, then 
I shall be ready, and only hope that what I shall provide 
may not prove unpalatable. 

Baroness. In that case, we had better postpone the 
amusement till to-morrow. 

Louisa. I am beyond measure curious to know what it 
will be. 

Clergyman. You must not be so, young lady ; for great 
expectations are seldom satisfied. 

That same evening, after dinner, the baroness retired early 
to her apartment ; whilst the rest of the company remained 
together, and discussed the many reports which were current, 
and the various incidents which had happened. As is gene- 
rally the case in such circumstances, few of them knew what 
to doubt or what to believe. 

The old clergyman had his remedy for such an emergency. 
" I propose," said he, " as the most convenient plan, that we 
all believe implicitly whatever we find pleasant, and that we 
reject, without ceremony, whatever we find unpleasant, and 
that we admit to be true what can be so." 

It was then remarked by some one, that men generally 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 309 

acted in this way ; and, after some desultory conversation, 
they commented upon that strange propensity of our nature 
to believe in the marvellous. They talked of romances and 
visions : and, when the old clergyman had promised at a 
future time to relate some interesting anecdotes upon these 
subjects, Louisa exclaimed, "It will be extremely good of 
you, and you will merit our gratitude, by telling us a story 
of that description now ; for we are all in the proper humor 
for it: we shall pay attention and be thankful. Without 
needing further entreaties, the old clergyman commenced at 
once, as follows : — 

" During my residence in Naples, an event happened which 
attracted universal attention, and with regard to which pub- 
lic opinion varied exceeding!}-. Some persons maintained 
that the circumstance had actually occurred ; whilst others 
asserted, that, though true in general, it was founded upon 
a gross deceit. The latter class of persons were at further 
variance amongst themselves : they could not agre3 who 
was the deceiver. Others held it to be far from clear that 
spiritual natures were incapable of influencing the elements 
and human bodies, and maintained that we were not justified 
in pronouncing every marvellous occurrence to be a fraud or 
a delusion. But now to the facts themselves. 

" At the time I speak of, a singer named Antonelli was the 
favorite of the Neapolitan public. In the bloom of youth, 
beauty, and talents, she was deficient in none of those en- 
chantments by which women can allure and captivate, and 
render a certain class of their favorites happy. She was 
not insensible to the charms of love and flattery ; but, 
naturally temperate and sensible, she knew how to enjoy 
the delights of both, without losing that self-respect which 
was so essential to her happiness. The } 7 oung, the distin- 
guished, and the rich, flocked to her in crowds ; but she 
admitted few to her friendship : and, if she pursued her own 
inclination in the choice of her admirers, she evinced, upon 
all occasions, so firm and resolute a character, that she 
attached every person to her. I had an opportunity of ob- 
serving her upon one occasion, in consequence of my close 
intimacy with one of her especial favorites. 

" Some years had elapsed: her friends were numerous; 
and amongst the number were many foolish, simple, and 
fickle personages. It was her opinion that a lover who, in 
a certain sense, is every thing to woman, generally proves 
deficient in those very emergencies when she most needs his 



310 THE RECREATIONS OF 

assistance ; as, for example, in the difficulties of life, in 
domestic necessities, and upon the occurrence of sudden dis- 
asters. In such times she maintained that his own self- 
love often proved absolutely prejudicial to his mistress, and 
his advice became positively dangerous. 

' ' Her former attachments were insufficient to satisf}^ her 
soul. The void required to be filled. She wished for a 
friend ; and scarcely had she felt this want, when she found, 
amongst those who sought her favors, a youth upon whom 
she bestowed her confidence, of which in every respect he 
seemed worthy. 

" He was a native of Genoa, and had taken up his resi- 
dence in Naples, to transact the mercantile business of a firm 
to which he belonged. His natural talents had been im- 
proved by a most excellent education. His knowledge was 
extensive, his mind and body were sound and active, and his 
general conduct might serve as a model ; and in his attention 
to others he ever seemed forgetful of himself. He was im- 
bued with the commercial spirit for which his native town 
was distinguished. All his speculations were upon a large 
scale. His condition, however, was none of the happiest. 
The firm had entered into some unfortunate transactions, 
and became entangled in ruinous law-suits. Time only in- 
creased the difficulties ; and the anxiety he endured gave 
him an air of melancholy, which was not unbecoming, and 
made Antonelli still more desirous of his acquaintance, from 
the idea that he stood in need of a friend. 

" Until now he had only seen Antonelli in public : but, at 
his first request, she granted him access to her house ; even 
urging him to visit her, a favor which he did not fail to ac- 
cept. 

" She lost no time in communicating to him her confidence 
and her wishes. He was no less surprised than delighted at 
her proposals. She implored him earnestly to be her friend, 
but to make no pretensions to the privileges of a lover. She 
made him acquainted with some embarrassments in which 
she had become involved, and his great experience enabled 
him to offer advice and assistance for her speedy release. 
In return for this confidence, he unfolded to her his own 
situation : and, whilst she endeavored to cheer and console 
him, many new plans occurred to him, which he had not 
thought of before ; and she thus appeared to be his adviser : 
and a reciprocal friendship, founded on the highest regard 
and respect, was established between them. 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 311 

" Unfortunately, we do not always consider the practica- 
bility of the obligations we incur. He had promised to be 
her friend, and to make no pretensions to the privileges of 
a lover. But he could not deny that those who came to see 
her as such were not only unwelcome to, but were detested 
by, him ; and it was extremely painful to him when she 
meant to amuse him with the description of their various 
characters. 

" It soon happened, fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, 
that her heart was again free. This was a source of ex- 
treme delight to our young friend, who lost no time in 
entreating that the vacant place might be allotted to him. 
With some reluctance she listened to his proposals. 4 1 
fear,' she said, ' that, in making this concession, I shall 
lose my friend.' Her anticipation was correct; for scarcely 
had he for a short time filled this double character, when he 
found her temper change. As her friend he had been con- 
tent with her respect ; as a lover he demanded her affection ; 
and, as an intelligent and accomplished man, constant enter- 
tainment. But this was more than Antonelli expected. She 
was unwilling to make an entire sacrifice of herself, and had 
no wish to surrender her absolute liberty to any one. She 
soon adopted ingenious expedients for curtailing the length 
of his visits, for avoiding his presence, and for making him 
sensible that she would not consent to forego her indepen- 
dence for any consideration. 

' ' This discovery was to him a source of the greatest 
misery ; and, unfortunately, the calamity did not come alone. 
His domestic affairs became more and more involved ; and 
he found reason for reproaching himself with having always 
considered his income as inexhaustible, and with having 
neglected his business in order to engage in foreign travel, 
and to make a greater figure in the world than he was enti- 
tled to do, from the advantages of his birth and income. 
The law-suits, from which he expected so much, were tardy 
and expensive. They took him frequently to Palermo ; and, 
upon the occasion of his last journey thither, Antonelli 
adopted means to change the nature of her establishment, 
for the purpose of becoming gradually disengaged from him. 
On his return he found her in another residence, at some 
distance from his ; and he saw that the Marquis of S., who 
at that time exercised great influence in the world of fashion, 
had unreserved admission to her house. He was greatly af- 
fected by this discovery, which brought on a serious illness. 



312 THE RECREATIONS OF 

Upon hearing this sad intelligence, Antonelli hastened to 
him, attended him ; and, as she was fully aware that his 
purse was but scantily supplied, she left a large sum of 
money, which supplied his necessities for a considerable 
time. 

" In consequence of his efforts to restrain her freedom, he 
had fallen considerably in her estimation. As her attach- 
ment diminished, her suspicions increased : and she at length 
began to think that a person who had managed his own 
affairs so badly was not entitled to a high character for good 
sense. But he was unaware of the great change which had 
taken place in her feelings towards him ; and he attributed 
her anxiety for his recovery, and the constancy of her atten- 
tions which induced her to spend whole days at his bedside, 
rather to her love for him than to compassion for his suffer- 
ings ; and he hoped, upon his recovery, to find himself once 
more re-instated in her favor. 

" But he was grievously mistaken. With his restoration to 
health and strength, all semblance of affection disappeared ; 
and he now seemed as odious in her eyes as he had formerly 
proved agreeable. In addition to this, his temper had uncon- 
sciously become soured and unbearable. He attributed to 
others all the blame of his own misfortunes, and justified 
himself fully from their evil consequences. He considered 
himself an injured and persecuted invalid, and looked for 
a complete recompense for all his troubles in the devoted 
affection of his mistress. 

' ' With these exalted expectations he visited Antonelli im- 
mediately upon his recovery. He would be satisfied with 
nothing short of her entire affection, the dismissal of all 
her other friends and acquaintances, her complete retirement 
from the stage, and her devoting herself to him alone. She 
demonstrated the impossibility of complying with these re- 
quests, at first in a playful, and afterwards in a more serious, 
tone. At length she communicated to him the sad intel- 
ligence that their connection must end. He left her, and 
never returned. 

' ' For several years afterwards he lived in a retired manner, 
in the house of a pious old lady, who had a small independ- 
ence. At this period he gained his first law-suit, and was 
soon afterwards successful in another ; but this change of 
fortune came too late : his health was undermined, and the 
joy of his existence had vanished. A slight accident brought 
on a relapse, and the physician announced to him his ap- 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 313 

proaching death. He heard his fate without a murmur, and 
merely expressed a wish to see his beautiful friend once 
more. He sent his servant to her, — the same messenger 
who, in happier da}S, had brought him many a delightful 
answer. He entreated an interview : she refused. He 
sent a second time, and implored her to consent : she was 
still inexorable. At length, at midnight, he sent a third 
time. She was embarrassed, and communicated her situa- 
tion to me ; as I had been invited, along with the marquis 
and some other friends, to spend the evening at her house. 
I advised her, indeed begged of her, to show some last atten- 
tions to her friend. She appeared undecided at first, but, 
after a short reflection, made up her mind, and dismissed the 
servant with a refusal. He did not return. 

" After supper we were all engaged in social conversation, 
and general animation and hilarity prevailed. Suddenly, a 
little after midnight, a piercing shriek of bitter, painful 
lamentation was heard. We rose from the table, looked at 
each other, and wondered what this strange event could 
mean. The sound seemed to come from the middle of the 
room in which we were assembled, and die away near the 
walls. The marquis rushed to the window ; whilst we en- 
deavored to support Antonelli, who had fainted. By degrees 
she regained consciousness. She had scarcely opened her 
eyes when the jealous and passionate marquis loaded her with 
the bitterest reproaches. ' If you choose to have these 
mysterious understandings with your friends,' said he, ' at 
least let them be of a less fearful nature.' She replied, with 
her wonted presence of mind, ' that, as she had always en- 
joyed the right of seeing her friends whenever she pleased, 
she would scarcely select such appalling sounds as they had 
just heard, to indicate approaching happiness.' 

" And, in truth, the cry had in it something unspeakably ap- 
palling. The long-continued scream of anguish dwelt upon 
our ears, and made our very limbs tremble. Antonelli was 
pale, motionless, and in a continual faint. We sat with her 
for half the night, but we heard nothing further. On the 
following night, the same company, who had met together 
not quite so cheerful as usual, though with a reasonable 
supply of courage, about the same hour of midnight heard 
the same identical loud and appalling shriek. 

"We had, in the mean time, wearied our imaginations in 
framing conjectures as to the cause of the cry, and whence 
it could proceed. But why should I weary you ? Whenever 



314 THE RECREATIONS OF 

Antonelli supped at home, at the self -same hour the same 
shriek was heard, sometimes louder and sometimes fainter. 
It was spoken of all over Naples. The mystery excited 
universal attention. The police were called out. Spies 
were placed in every direction, to detect the cause of the 
mystery. To persons in the street, the shriek appeared to 
come from the open air ; whilst in the house it seemed to 
proceed from the very room in which Antonelli was sitting. 
When she supped abroad nothing whatsoever occurred ; but, 
as often as she supped at home, the horrid shriek was in- 
variably heard. 

" But her absence from home did not upon all occasions 
protect her from this fearful visitation. Her many personal 
recommendations secured her a welcome reception in the 
most distinguished families. Being a pleasant companion, 
she was everywhere well received ; and it had lately become 
her custom, in order to escape the fearful visitation we have 
described, to spend her evenings from home. 

"One evening a gentleman of great respectability, owing 
to his age and position, accompanied her to her house in his 
carriage. When she was taking leave of him at the door, 
a loud shriek was heard, which seemed to come from between 
them; and the gentleman , who, like many others, had often 
heard of this mysterious occurrence, was lifted into his 
carriage more like a corpse than a living person. 

' ' Upon another occasion a young singer, to whom she was 
partial, drove through the town with her in the evening, to 
visit a friend. He likewise had frequently heard of the 
wonderful phenomenon we have related, and, with the spirits 
of a light-hearted } T outh, had expressed his doubts of its 
reality. They spoke of the circumstance. 4 1 wish ex- 
tremely,' said he, 'that I could hear the voice of your 
invisible companion ; call him, — perhaps he will come: we 
are two, and need not fear him.' From thoughtlessness, 
or indifference to danger, I know not which, she called the 
spirit : and instantly the piercing shriek issued, as it were, 
from the middle of the carriage ; three times it was heard, 
and then died away gradually. Arrived at the house of 
their friend, both were found insensible in the carriage: 
with difficulty they recovered their senses sufficiently to re- 
late what had happened. 

" It was some time before Antonelli completely recovered. 
Her health became impaired by the constantly recurring 
fright she sustained : but when, at length, her fearful visitor 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 315 

appeared to intend that she should enjoy some repose, she 
began to hope for a complete cessation of this annoyance ; 
but this expectation was premature. 

"At the end of the carnival, accompanied by a young 
female acquaintance and a servant, she set out upon an 
excursion of pleasure. It was her intention to visit a friend 
in the country. Night came on before she reached her 
destination : an accident happened to the carriage ; and she 
was necessitated to take refuge in a small country inn, and 
to put up with the indifferent accommodation it afforded. 

" Her companion had already gone to bed ; and the servant, 
having arranged the night-light, was about to retire, when 
her mistress observed jestingly, ' I think we are at the end 
of the world : it is a dreadful night ; I wonder whether he 
can find us out?' That very instant the shriek was heard 
more piercing and louder than ever. Her companion was 
terrified beyond expression, sprang from her bed, rushed 
down-stairs, and alarmed the whole house. No one that 
night closed an eye. It was, however, the last time the 
shriek was heard. But the unwelcome visitor soon found 
another more frightful mode of indicating his presence. 

" He was quiet for a short time, when one evening, at the 
accustomed hour, as Antonelli sat with her companions at 
table, a shot from a gun, or from a heavily loaded pistol, 
was fired in at the window. Every one heard the report, 
every one saw the flash ; but, upon the closest inspection, the 
window was found not to have sustained the slightest injury. 
But the circumstance seemed to every one of the most 
alarming importance, and all thought that an attempt had 
been made upon Antonelli' s life. The police were called, 
and the neighboring house was searched ; but, as nothing 
suspicious was found, guards were placed in it next day 
from top to bottom. Her own dwelling was carefully exam- 
ined, and spies were even dispersed about the streets. 

u But all this precaution was useless. For three months in 
succession, at the very same hour, the shot was fired through 
the same window, without the slightest injury to the glass ; 
and, what was especially remarkable, this always took place 
exactly one hour before midnight : although in Naples time 
is counted after the Italian fashion, and the term midnight 
is never used. 

44 But custom at length reconciled all parties to this oc- 
currence, as it had done to the previous one ; and the ghost 
began to lose credit by reason of his very harmless tricks. 



J 



316 THE RECREATIONS OF 

The shot ceased to alarm the company, or even to interrupt 
their conversation. 

" One sultry evening, the day having been very hot, Anto- 
uelli opened the window, without thinking of the hour, and 
went with the marquis out upon the balcony. They had 
scarcely been in the air a couple of minutes when the shot 
exploded between them, and drove them back into the house, 
where for some time they lay apparently lifeless on the floor. 
When they recovered, each felt the pain of a violent blow 
upon the cheek, one on the right side, the other on the left ; 
but, as no further injury was apparent, the singularity of the 
circumstance was merely the occasion of a few jocular obser- 
vations. 

; ' From this time the shot was not repeated in the house ; 
and Antonelli thought she was at last completely delivered 
from her invisible tormentor, when one evening, upon mak- 
ing a little excursion with a friend, she was terrified beyond 
measure by a most unexpected incident. Her way lay 
through the Chiaja, where her Genoese friend had formerly 
lived. It was bright moonlight. A lady who sat near her 

asked, ' Is not that the house in which Signor died?' 

— 'As well as I can recollect, it is one of those two,' an- 
swered Antonelli. The words were scarcely uttered when 
the shot was fired from one of the two houses, and pene- 
trated the carriage. The driver thought he was wounded, 
and drove forward with all possible speed. Arrived at their 
destination, the two ladies were lifted from the carriage, as 
though they were dead. 

" But this was the last alarm of that kind. The unseen foe 
now changed his plan ; and one evening, shortly afterwards, 
a loud clapping of hands was heard before the window. As 
a popular singer and favorite actress, she was more familiar 
with sounds of this description. They did not inspire terror, 
and might have proceeded, perhaps, from one of her numer- 
ous admirers. She paid no attention to them. Her friends, 
however, were more watchful, and distributed their guards 
as before. They continued to hear the noise, but saw no- 
body, and began to indulge a hope that the unaccountable 
mystery would soon completely end. 

41 After a short time it became changed in character, and 
assumed the form of agreeable sounds. They were not, 
strictly speaking, melodious, but exceedingly sweet and 
pleasing. To an accurate observer they seemed to proceed 
from the corner of the street, to float about in the empty 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 317 

space before Antonelli's window, and there to die away in 
the most soft and delightful manner. It seemed as if some 
heavenly spirit wished, by means of a beautiful prelude, to 
draw attention to a lovely melody which he designed to play. 
But these sounds also ceased at length, and were heard no 
more after this wonderful occurrence had lasted for about a 
year and a half." 

The clergyman pausing for a few moments, the entire 
company began to express their opinions, and their doubts 
about the truth of the tale. 

The narrator answered that the story had to be true, if it 
were to be interesting, as a manufactured tale could possess 
but little merit. Some one here observed that he thought it 
singular no one had inquired about Antonelli's deceased 
friend, or the circumstances of his death ; as perhaps some 
light might by this means have been thrown upon the whole 
affair. 

44 But this was done," replied the clergyman: * I was 
myself curious enough, immediately after the first myste- 
rious occurrence, to go to the house under the pretext of 
visiting the lady who had attended him in his last moments 
with a mother's care. She informed me that the deceased 
had been passionately attached to Antonelli ; that, during 
the last hours of his existence, he had spoken of nothing but 
her ; that at one time he addressed her as an adorable angel, 
and at another as little better than a demon. 

44 When his sickness became desperate, his whole thoughts 
were fixed on seeing her once more before his death, perhaps 
in the hope of obtaining from her an expression of affection, 
of pity, of attachment, or of love. Her unwillingness to see 
him afflicted him exceedingly, and her last decisive refusal 
hastened his death. In despair he cried out, 4 No ! it shall 
not avail her. She avoids me ; but, after my death, she shall 
have no rest from me.' In a paroxysm of this kind he ex- 
pired ; and only too late do we learn, that the dead can keep 
their word on the other side of the grave." 

The company began once more to express their opinions 
about the story. At length Fritz observed, 44 I have a sus- 
picion ; but I shall not tell it till I have thought over all the 
circumstances again, and put my combinations to the 
proof. ' ' 

Being somewhat strongly pressed, he endeavored to avoid 
giving an answer, by requesting that he might be allowed to 
relate an anecdote, which, though it might not equal the pre- 



318 THE RECREATIONS OF 

ceding one in interest, was of the same character, inasmuch 
as it could not be explained with any certainty. 

u A gallant nobleman," he commenced, " who inhabited 
an ancient castle, and was the father of a large family, had 
taken into his protection an orphan girl, who, when she at- 
tained the age of fourteen years, was emplo}-ed in attending 
the mistress of the house in duties immediately about her 
person. She gave complete satisfaction, and her whole am- 
bition seemed to consist in a wish to evince her gratitude to 
her benefactor by attention and fidelity. She possessed vari- 
ous charms, both of mind and person, and was not without 
suitors. But none of these proposals seemed likely to con- 
duce to her happiness, and the girl herself did not show the 
least inclination to change her condition. 

" On a sudden it happened, that as she went through the 
house, intent upon her various duties, she heard sounds of 
knocking, which came from about and beneath her. At first 
this seemed accidental ; but as the knocking never ceased, and 
beat almost in unison with her footsteps, she became alarmed, 
and scarcely left the room of her mistress, where alone she 
found she could enjoy security. 

" These sounds were heard by every one who accompanied 
her or who stood near her. At first the subject was treated 
as a jest, but at length it was regarded in a more serious 
light. The master of the house, who was of a cheerful dis- 
position, now took the matter in hand. The knocking was 
never heard when the maiden remained motionless, and, when 
she walked, was perceived, not so evidently when she put her 
foot to the ground as when she raised it to advance another 
step. But the sounds were often irregular, and they were 
observed to be more than usually loud when the maiden 
went transversely across a certain large apartment in the 
castle. 

" The old nobleman, one day having workmen in the house, 
caused the flooring to be suddenly raised behind the maiden, 
when the knocking sounds were at the loudest. Nothing, 
however, was found but a couple of rats, who, disturbed by 
the search, gave occasion to a chase, and to considerable 
uproar in the house. 

"Provoked by this circumstance and by the disappoint- 
ment, the nobleman determined upon adopting strong meas- 
ures. He took down his large whip from the wall, and 
swore that he would flog the maiden to death if he heard the 
knocking any more. From this time forth she could go 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 319 

through the house without the slightest molestation, and the 
knocking was never heard again.' ' 

"Whereby," observed Louisa sagaciously, "we may con- 
clude that the young maiden was her own ghost, and practised 
this joke, and played the fool with the family, to indulge 
some whim of her own." 

"Not at all," answered Fritz; "for those who ascribed 
the mysterious occurrence to a ghost, believed that the 
maiden's guardian angel wished her to leave the house, but 
was anxious also to protect her from injury. Others took 
another view, and maintained that one of the girl's lovers 
had the cleverness to occasion these sounds in order to drive 
her out of the house into his arms. But, be this as it may. 
the poor child became quite ill in consequence, and was re- 
duced to a melancholy spectre ; though she had formerly been 
the most cheerful and lively and merry person in the whole 
establishment But such a change in personal appearance 
can be explained in more ways than one. 

" It is a pity," observed Fritz, " that these occurrences are 
not always more particularly examined, and that, in judging 
of events which so much interest us, we are obliged to 
hesitate between different appearances, because the circum- 
stances under which they happen have not all been ob- 
served." 

"True," replied the old clergyman; "but it is so ex- 
tremely difficult to make this examination at the very mo- 
ment when any thing of the kind happens, and to take every 
precaution that nothing shall escape in which deceit or fraud 
may be concealed. Can we, for example, detect a conjurer 
so easily, though we are perfectly conscious that he is delud- 
ing us? " 

He had scarcely finished this observation, when a loud re- 
port was suddenly heard in one corner of the apartment. 
Every one leaped up ; whilst Charles said jokingly, " Surely 
the noise does not proceed from some dying lover." 

He would willingly have recalled the expression ; for 
Louisa became suddenly pale, and stammered forth that she 
felt apprehension about the safety of her intended. 

Fritz, to divert her attention, took up the light, and went 
towards a reading-desk which stood in a corner of the apart- 
ment. The semicircular top of the desk was split through ; 
this, then, was the cause of the report they had heard : 
but it immediately occurred to them, that the reading-desk 
was of the best workmanship, and had occupied the very 



I 



B20 THE RECREATIONS OF 

same spot for years ; and therefore they were all astonished 
that it should be so suddenly split asunder. It had even 
been praised more than once as a very model piece of furni- 
ture ; and how, therefore, could this accident have occurred, 
without even the slightest change having taken place in the 
temperature ? 

" Quick ! " said Charles, " let us settle this point at once 
by examining the barometer." The quicksilver maintained 
the same point it had held for some days. And even the 
thermometer had not fallen more than could be reconciled 
with the difference of the temperature between day and 
night. "It is a pity that we have not an hygrometer at 
hand," he exclaimed, "the very instrument that would be 
most serviceable ! ' ' 

"It seems," said the old clergyman, "that the most 
valuable instrument always fails when we are engaged in 
supernatural inquiries." They were interrupted in their re- 
flections by the entry of a servant, who announced that a 
great fire was visible in the heavens ; though no one could 
say whether it were raging in the town or in the neighbor- 
hood. 

The circumstances we have just related made the whole 
party more susceptible of terror, and they were therefore 
much agitated by the news. Fritz hastened up to the bel- 
vedere of the house, where a map of the adjacent country 
was suspended, by means of which he was enabled, even at 
night, to point out with tolerable accuracy the various posi- 
tions of the surrounding places. The rest of the party 
remained together, not without some fear and anxiety. 

Fritz announced, upon his return, that he had no good 
news to tell. " The fire does not seem to be in the town, 
but upon the property of our aunt. I am well acquainted," 
said he, " with the locality, and believe I am not mis- 
taken." Each one lamented the destruction of the fine 
building, and calculated the loss. " A strange thought has 
just occurred to me," said Fritz, "which may quiet our 
minds as to the mystery of the reading-desk. Consider how 
long it is since we heard the report." They counted the 
minutes, and thought it had occurred about half -past twelve. 

" Now, you will probably laugh," continued Fritz, " when 
I tell you my conjecture. You know that our mother, a good 
many years ago, made our aunt a present of a reading-desk, 
in every respect similar to this one. They were both fin- 
ished with the greatest care, by the same workman, at the 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 321 

same time, and cut out of one piece of wood. Both have 
lasted well until now : and I will lay a wager, that, at this 
very instant, the second reading-desk is actually burning at 
the house of my aunt ; and its twin brother here is afflicted 
at the disaster. To-morrow I will set out and investigate 
this singular fact as thoroughly as I am able." 

Whether Frederick really entertained the above opinion, 
or whether his wish to tranquillize his sister suggested the 
idea, we are unable to decide : they, however, seized the 
opportunity to speak of many undeniable sympathies, and 
ended by discovering that a sympathy actually existed 
between pieces of timber formed from one tree, and pro- 
nounced it probable that the same sympathy subsisted 
between pieces of work completed by the same hand. They 
agreed that these things resembled natural phenomena fully 
as much as other things which were often adduced, and which, 
although quite evident, are incapable of explanation. " And, 
in my opinion," added Charles, " every phenomenon, as well 
as every fact, is peculiarly interesting for its own sake. Who- 
ever explains it, cr connects it with other circumstances, only 
makes a jest of it, or deludes us : this is done, for example, 
by the natural philosopher and the historian. But an uncon- 
nected fact or event is interesting, not because it is expli- 
cable or probable, but because it is true. When at midnight 
the flames consumed your aunt's reading-desk, the extraor- 
dinary splitting of ours, at the very same time, was a palpable 
fact, however explicable or connected with other things it 
may be." 

Though night was by this time far advanced, none of the 
company felt any inclination to retire ; and Charles, in his 
turn, asked permission to tell a story, which, though equally 
interesting, might seem perhaps more natural and explicable 
than the previous ones. ''Marshal Bassompierre," he said, 
" relates it in his Memoirs ; and I may be permitted to tell 
it in his name. 

" I had remarked for five or six months, that, whenever I 
crossed the little bridge (for at that time the Pont Neuf had 
not been built) , a very handsome shopkeeper, over the door 
of whose establishment was painted the sign of ' The Two 
Angels,' always saluted me with a low and respectful bow, 
and followed me with her eyes as far as she could see me. 
This conduct surprised me extremely ; but I always directed 
my looks to her, and saluted her in return. I rode on one 
occasion from Fontainebleau to Paris; and, when I had ar- 
il — Uoecxu- Vol 8 



322 THE RECREATIONS OF 

rived at the little bridge, she appeared at the door of her 
shop, and said, ' Your servant, sir ! ' I returned the salute : 
and, as I looked back from time to time, I observed that she 
was, as usual, leaning forward, to keep me in view as long 
\/as possible. 

" M}- servant was following with a postilion, as I wished 
to send some letters back to some ladies in Fontainebleau 
the same day. I ordered the servant to alight, to go to the 
pretty shopkeeper, and to tell her from me, that I had no- 
ticed her wish to speak to me, and that, if she desired my 
acquaintance, I would visit her whenever she wished. She 
answered that I could have sent her no more delightful news, 
that she would meet me whenever I should appoint, on con- 
dition that she might be allowed to pass a night under the 
same roof with me. I accepted the proposal, and asked the 
servapt to find a place where I might appoint an assignation. 
He said he would lead me to a friend's house, but advised 
me, as fever was then very prevalent, to provide myself with 
my own house-linen. When evening came, I went to the 
appointed house, where I found a very beautiful young 
woman awaiting my arrival. She was attired in a charming 
head-dress, and wore the finest linens. Her tiny feet were 
adorned with slippers, worked in gold and silk ; and her 
person was covered with a loose mantle of the softest satin 
texture. Suffice it to say, that I never saw a more charming 
person. In the morning I asked when J could see her again ; 
as it was then Thursday night, and it was not my intention 
to leave the town before the following Sunday. 

" She replied that she was more anxious for a fresh appoint- 
ment than I could be, but that it would be impracticable 
unless I could postpone my departure ; as I could only see 
her on Sunda}' night. To this I made some difficulty, which 
caused her to complain that I was tired of her, and therefore 
wished to set out on Sunday; 'but,' she added, 'you will 
soon think of me again, and will be glad to forfeit a day in 
order to pass a night with me.' 

" I was easily persuaded. I promised to stay during 
Sunday, and to meet her in the evening at the same place. 
She answered me as follows : ' I am quite aware, that on 
your account I have come to a house of ill-repute ; but I have 
done this in obedience to an irresistible desire to enjoy your 
society. But so great an indiscretion cannot be repeated. 
I shall excite the jealousy of my husband, though one might 
risk even that for the satisfaction of an irresistible passion. 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 323 

For your sake I have come to this house, which has been 
made respectable by your presence. But, if you desire to see 
ine again, you must meet me at the residence of my aunt.' 

"She described the house with great particularity, and 
then added, ' I shall expect you at ten o'clock. From that 
time till midnight the door shall be open. You will find a 
small entrance, through which you must advance ; as my 
aunt's door is at the farther end. You will then see a flight 
of stairs opposite to you. They lead to the first floor, and 
there I shall be expecting you with open arms.' 

" I made all my arrangements. I sent away my things, 
dismissed my servants, and waited impatiently the arrival of 
Sunday night, when I was to see my charming companion 
once more. At ten o'clock I was at the appointed place. I 
found the door she had described, close shut, and observed 
lights in the house, which seemed every now and then to 
blaze up into a flame. I knocked impatiently in order to 
announce my arrival, and was immediately saluted by the 
hoarse voice of a man inquiring what I wanted. I retired 
disappointed, and paced restlessly up and down the street. 
At length I returned to the house, and found the door then 
wide open. I hurried through the passage, and ascended the 
stairs. Judge of my astonishment at finding the room occu- 
pied by two men, who were employed in burning a mattress 
and some bed-clothes ; while I saw before me two naked 
corpses stretched upon the floor. I hastened away in- 
stantly, and, in rushing down stairs, knocked against two 
men carrying a coffin, who asked me angrity what I wanted. 
I drew my sword to protect myself, and finally reached my 
home in a state of the greatest excitement. I swallowed 
half a dozen glasses of wine, as a preservative against the 
fever, and on the following day continued my journey. 

" All the inquiries I afterwards instituted to discover who 
this woman was were in vain. I even visited the shop 
where ' The Two Angels ' were painted, but the new-comers 
could not inform who their predecessors had been. The 
chief character in this adventure was doubtless a person 
from the lower orders ; but I can assure you, that, but for 
the disagreeable finale, it would have proved one of the 
most delightful incidents that has ever happened to me, and 
that I never think of my charming heroine without feelings 
of the warmest affection." 

Charles observed, upon the conclusion of the anecdote, 
that the mystery which enveloped the story was not easily 



824 



THE RFXREATIONS OF 



explained. The woman might either have died of the fever, 
or have kept away from the house on account of the infec- 
tion. 

" But, if she were alive,' ' answered Charles, u she would 
have met her lover in the street ; as no fear could, under the 
circumstances, have kept her from him. I fear," he added, 
" that her corpse was stretched on the floor." 

" Oh ! no more of this," said Louisa : " this story is too 
frightful. What a night we shall pass, if we retire with our 
imaginations full of these pictures ! " 

"I recollect an anecdote," interrupted Charles, " which 
is of a more cheerful description, and which the same Bas- 
sompierre relates of some of his ancestors. 

4i A very beautiful woman, who loved one of her relations 
passionately, visited him every Monday at his country-house, 
where they spent much time together ; his wife believing in 
the mean while that her husband was engaged on a hunting- 
party. Two years uninterruptedly had passed in this way, 
when, the wife's suspicions being roused, she stole one morn- 
ing to the country-house, and found her husband asleep with 
his companion. Being unwilling or afraid to disturb them, 
she untied her veil, threw it over the feet of the sleeping 
couple, and retired. When the lady awoke, and observed 
the veil, she uttered a piercing cry, and with loud lamenta- 
tions complained that she would now never be able to see 
her lover again. She then took leave of him, having first 
given him three presents, — a small fruit-basket, a ring, and 
a goblet, being a present for each of his three daughters, 
and desired him to take great care of them. They were ac- 
cepted with thanks, and the children of these three daugh- 
ters believe that they are indebted to their respective gifts 
for whatever good fortune has attended them." 

"This somewhat resembles the story of the beautiful 
Melusina, and such-like fair}- tales,' ' observed Louisa. 

" But there is just such a tradition in our family," said 
Frederick, " and we have possession of a similar talis- 
man . ' ' 

" What do you mean? " asked Charles. 

" That is a secret," replied the former. " It can be told 
to no one but the eldest son, and that during the lifetime of 
his father ; and he is then to hold the charm." 

" Are you the present possessor? " inquired Louisa. 

"I have told too much alread}-," answered Frederick, 
as he lighted his candle, previous to retiring. 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 325 

The family had assembled for breakfast according to their 
usual custom, and the baroness afterwards took her seat at 
her embroidery-frame. After a short silence the clergyman 
observed, with a slight smile, "It is seldom indeed that 
singers, poets, or story-tellers, who enter into an agreement 
to amuse a company, do it at the right time : they often re- 
quire pressing, when they should begin voluntarily ; whilst; 
on the other hand, they are frequently eager and urgent to 
commence at a time when the entertainment could be dis 
pensed with. I hope, however, to prove an exception to 
this custom ; and I shall be glad tc know whether it will 
prove agreeable to you that I should t elate a story." 

"Particularly so," answered the baroness; "and I feel 
sure that I express the general opinion. But, if it is your 
intention to relate an anecdote as a specimen, I will tell you 
for what sort of story I have no inclination. 

"I take no pleasure in stories which, like the Arabian 
Nights, connect one tale with another, and so confound the 
interest of both ; where the narrator finds himself compelled 
to excite our attention by interruptions, and, instead of sat- 
isfying us by detailing a course of consecutive adventures, 
seeks to attract us by rare and often unworthy artifices. I 
cannot but censure the attempt of converting stories, which 
should possess the unity of a poem, into unmeaning puzzles, 
which only have the effect of vitiating our taste. I leave 
you to choose your own subjects ; but I hope you will pay a 
little attention to the style, since it must be remembered that 
we are members of good society. Commence with some 
narrative in which but few persons are concerned or few 
events described, in which the plot is good and natural, 
though possessing as much action and contrivance as is 
necessary, which shall not prove dull, nor be confined to one 
spot, but in which the action shall not progress too rapidly. 
Let your characters be pleasing, and, if not perfect, at least \ 
good, — not extravagant, but interesting and amiable. Let 
your story be amusing in ^he narration, in order, that, when 
concluded, we may remember it with pleasure.' ' 

" If I were not well acquainted with you, gracious lady," 
said the clergyman, " I should be of opinion that it is your 
wish, by thus explaining how much you require of me, to 
bring my wares into disrepute before I have exposed them 
for sale. I see how difficult it will be to reach your stand- 
ard of excellence. Even now," he continued, after a short 
pause, "you compel me to postpone the tale I had intended 



32(3 THE RECREATIONS OF 

to relate till another time ; and I fear I shall commit a mis- 
take in extemporizing an anecdote for which I have always 
felt some partiality : — 

ki In a saacoast town in Italy once lived a merchant, who 
from his youth had been distinguished for activity and 
industry. He. was, in addition, a first-rate sailor, and had 
amassed considerable wealth by trading to Alexandria, where 
he was accustomed to purchase or exchange merchandise, 
which he afterwards either brought home or forwarded to 
the northern parts of Europe. His fortune increased from 
year to year. Business was his greatest pleasure, and he 
found no time for the indulgence of extravagant dissipation. 

" His life was employed in active pursuits of this nature 
till he was fifty years old ; and he had been, during all this 
time, a total stranger to those social pleasures with which 
luxurious citizens are accustomed to diversify their lives. 
Even the charms of the fair sex had never excited his 
attention, notwithstanding the attractions of his country- 
women. His knowledge of them was confined to their love 
for ornaments and jewellery, a taste of which he never 
failed to take proper advantage. 

'He was surprised, therefore, at the change which took 
place in his disposition, when, after a long voyage, his richly 
laden ship entered the port of his native town, upon the 
occurrence of a great festival in which the children of the 
place took a prominent part. The youths and maidens had 
attended the church m their gayest attire, and had joined in 
the sacred processions. They afterwards mingled through 
the town in separate companies, or dispersed through the 
country in search of amusements ; or they assembled in the 
large square, engaging in various active pursuits, and ex- 
hibiting feats of skill and dexterity, for which small prizes 
were bestowed. 

" The merchant was much pleased with all he saw. But 
after he had for some time observed the happiness of the 
children, and the delight of their parents, and witnessed so 
many persons in the full enjoyment of present bliss and the 
indulgence of the fondest hopes, he could not help reflecting 
upon the wretchedness of his own condition. His own soli- 
tary home began for the first time to be to him a cause of 
distress, and he thus gave vent to his melancholy thoughts : — 

u * Unhappy being that I am ! Why are my eyes opened 
so late? Why, in my old age, do I first become acquainted 
with those blessings which alone can insure the happiness 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 327 

of mankind ? What toil have I endured ! "What labors 
I have borne ! And what have they done for me ? 'Tis 
true my cellars are filled with merchandise, m}' chests with 
valuable metals, and my caskets with jewellery and precious 
stones ; but these treasures can neither console nor satisfy 
my heart. The more I have the more I want : one coin 
requires another, and one diamond wishes for its fellow. I 
am not the master of my riches : they command me in 
imperious tone. ' Go and get more ! ' they exclaim. Gold 
delights in gold, and jewels in their fellows. They have 
ruled me all my life ; and now I find, too late, that they 
possess no real value. Now, when age approaches, I begin 
for the first time to reflect, and to complain that I enjoy 
none of the treasures I possess, and that no one will enjoy 
them after me. Have I ever used them to adorn the person 
of a beloved wife, to provide a marriage-portion for a 
daughter? Have I ever by their means enabled a son to win 
and to dower the maiden of his heart ? Never ! None of 
these treasures have ever enriched me or mine ; and what I 
have collected with so much toil some stranger, after my 
death, will thoughtlessly dissipate. 

" ' Oh ! with what different feelings will those happy 
parents whom I see around me assemble their children this 
evening, praise their address, and encourage them to virtue ! 
What joy have I beheld beaming from their eyes, and what 
hopes from the happiness of their beloved offspring ! And 
must I ever be a stranger to hope ? Am I grown gray ? Is 
it not enough to see my error before the final evening of 
my days arrives ? No : in my ripe years it is not foolish to 
dream of love. I will enrich a fair maiden with my wealth, 
and make her happy. And, should my house ever become 
blessed with children, those late fruits will render me happy, 
instead of proving a plague and a torment ; as they often do 
to those who too early receive such gifts from Heaven. ' 

" Thus communing with himself he silently formed his 
determination. He then called two of his intimate com- 
panions, and opened his mind to them. They were ever 
ready to aid him in all emergencies, and were not wanting 
upon the present occasion. They hastened, therefore, into 
the town, to make inquiries after the fairest and most beau- 
tiful maidens ; for they knew their master was a man who, 
whatever goods he might wish to acquire, would never be 
s-'atisfied with any but the best. He was himself active, 
went about, inquired, saw, and listened, and soon fou 



328 THE RECREATIONS OF 

what he sought in the person of a young maiden about 
sixteen 3 T ears of age, accomplished and well educated. Her 
person and disposition pleased him, and gave him every 
hope of happiness. In fact, at this time no maiden in the 
whole town was more admired for her beauty. 

" After a short delay, during which the most perfect inde- 
pendence of his intended bride, not only during his own 
life, but after his decease, was secured, the nuptial ceremony 
Was performed with great pomp and triumph ; and from that 
day the merchant felt himself, for the first time in his life, 
in -actual possession and enjoyment of his riches. His 
rarest and most costly silks were devoted to the adornment 
of his bride, and his diamonds gleamed more brilliantly 
upon the neck and amid the tresses of his love than they 
had ever shone in his caskets ; and his rings acquired an 
inexpressible value from the beauty of the hand by which 
they were adorned. And thus he felt that he was not only 
as wealthy as before, but even wealthier ; and all he pos- 
sessed acquired a new value from being shared with her he 
loved. The happy couple spent a year together in the most 
perfect contentment, and he seemed to experience a real joy 
in having exchanged his active and wandering course of life, 
for the calm content of domestic bliss. But he could not so 
easily divest himself of his nature, and found that a habit 
acquired in early youth, though it may for a time be inter- 
rupted, can never be completely laid aside. 

* 'After some time the sight of some of his old companions, 
when they had safely brought their ships into harbor after 
a long and perilous voyage, excited anew the love of his 
former pursuits ; and he began now, even in the company of 
his bride, to experience sensations of restlessness and dis- 
content. These feelings increased daily, and were gradually 
converted into so intense a longing for his old course of life, 
that at last he became positively miserable ; and a serious 
illness was the result. 

"'What will now become of me?' he asked himself. 
4 1 learn too late the folly of entering in old age upon a 
new system of life. How can we separate ourselves from 
our thoughts and our habits ? What have I done ? Once I 
possessed the perfect freedom which a bird enjoys in open 
air, and now I am imprisoned in a dwelling with all my 
wealth and jewels and my beauteous wife. I thought thus 
to win contentment and enjoy my riches, but I feel that I 
lose every thing so long as I cannot increase my stores. 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 329 

Unjustly are men considered fools who add to their wealth 
by ceaseless activity, for activity itself is happiness ; and 
riches themselves are valueless in comparison with the de- 
light of the toil by which they are acquired. I am wretched 
from idleness, sick from inactivity ; and, if I do not determine 
upon some other course, I may soon bid farewell to life. 

"I know, however, how much I risk in separating from 
a young and lovely wife. I know how unjust it is to win 
the affections of u. charming maiden, and, after a brief pos- 
session, to abandon her to the wearisome society of her own 
desires and emotions. I know, even now, how many vain 
and frivolous youths display their conceited persons before 
my windows. I know that in church, and in the public 
promenades, they seek to attract the notice and engage the 
attention of my wife. What ma}' not take place, then, if I 
absent myself? Can I hope for the intervention of some 
miracle to save her from ker almost inevitable fate ? It were 
vain to expect that at her age and with her warm affections 
she can withstand the seductions of love. If I depart, I 
know that upon my return I shall have lost the attachment 
of my wife, and that she will have forfeited her fidelity, and 
tarnished the honor of my house.' 

u These reflections and doubts, to which he for some time 
had become a prey, embittered his condition tenfold. His 
wife, no less than his relations and friends, sympathized 
deeply with him, without being able to comprehend the cause 
of his illness. At length he sought relief from his own 
thoughts, and thus communed with himself : ' Fool ! to dis- 
tress myself so much about the protection of a wife whom, 
if my illness continues, I must leave behind me for the 
enjoyment of another. Is it not better to preserve my life, 
even. though in the effort I risk the loss of the greatest treas- 
ure a woman can possess? How many find their very pres- 
ence ineffectual to preserve this treasure, and patiently 
endure a privation they cannot prevent ! Why cannot you 
summon up courage to be independent of so precarious a 
blessing, since upon this resolution your very existence 
depends? ' 

"He felt invigorated by these thoughts, and forthwith 
summoned together his former crew. He instructed them 
to charter a vessel without delav, to load it, and hold 
themselves read}' to set sail with the first favorable wind. 
He then unburdened himself to his wife in the following 
terms : — 



330 THE RECREATIONS OF 

" * Be not astonished at any commotion you may shortly 
observe in our house, but conclude thence that I am making 
preparations for a journey. Be not overcome with grief 
when I inform you that I am once more bent upon a sea- 
voyage. The love I bear 30U is still unchanged, and will 
doubtless remain so during my life. 1 am sensible of the 
bliss I have enjoyed in your society, and should feel it still 
more powerfully, but for the silent censures of idleness and 
inactivity with which my conscience reproves me. My old 
disposition returns, and my former habits are still alive. 
Let me once more visit the markets of Alexandria, to which 
I shall repair with the greater J03-, because I can there pro- 
cure for you the richest merchandise and most valuable 
treasures. I leave you in possession of all my fortune and 
of all my goods : make use of them without restraint, and 
enjoy yourself in the company of your relatives and friends. 
The period of our separation will pass by, and we shall meet 
again with joy.' 

" Dissolved in tears, his loving wife assured him, with the 
most tender endearments, that during his absence she would 
never be able to enjoy one happy moment, and entreated 
him, since she wished neither to control nor to detain him, 
that she might, at least, share his affectionate thoughts 
during the sad time of their separation. 

"He then gave some general directions on business and 
household matters, and added, after a short pause, * I have 
something to say, which lies like a burden upon my heart; 
and you must permit me to utter it : I only implore you 
earnestly not to misinterpret nry meaning, but in my anxiety 
for you to discern my love.' 

" ' I can guess your thoughts,' interrupted his wife : ' you 
are suspicious of me, I know ; and, after the fashion of men, 
you alwa} T s rail at the universal weakness of our sex. I am, 
it is true, young, and of a cheerful disposition ; and you fear 
lest, in your absence, I be found inconstant and unfaithful. 
I do not find fault with your suspicions ; it is the habit of 
your sex : but if I know my own heart, I may assure you 
that I am not so susceptible of impressions as to be induced 
lightly to stray from the paths of love and duty, through 
which I have hitherto journeyed. Fear not : you shall find 
your wife as true and faithful on your return as } t ou have 
ever found her hitherto, when you have come to her arms at 
evening after a short absence.' 

*• 4 x believe the truth of the sentiments you utter,' added 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 331 

the husband, ' and I beseech you to be constant to them. 
But let us conceive the possibility of the worst. Why should 
we shrink from it? You know yourself how the beauty of 
your person attracts the admiration of all our young fellow- 
citizens. During my absence they will be more attentive to 
you than ever. They will redouble their efforts to attract 
and piease you. The image of your husband will not prove 
as effective as his presence in banishing them from my doors 
and from your heart. I know you are a noble being ; but 
the blandishments of love are powerful, and oftentimes over- 
come the firmest resolutions. Interrupt me not. Your very 
thoughts of me during my absence may inflame } T our pas- 
sions. I majr, for some time, continue to be the object of 
your dearest wishes ; but who can foretell what opportunities 
may occur, and allow a stranger to enjoy those privileges 
which were destined for me? Be not impatient, I beseech 
you, but hear me out. 

" ' Should that time arrive, the possibility of which you 
deny, and which I am by no means anxious to hasten, in 
which you feel that you need society, and can no longer de- 
fer the requirements of love, then make me one promise. 
Permit no thoughtless youth to supplant me, whatever ma}' 
be the attractions of his person ; for such lovers are more 
dangerous to the honor than to the virtue of a woman. In- 
cited rather by vanity than by love, they seek the general 
favors of the sex. and are ever ready to transfer their transi- 
tory affections. If you wish for the society of a friend, look 
out for one who is worthy of the name, whose modesty and 
discretion understands the art of exalting the joys of love by 
the virtue of secrecy.' 

u His beautiful wife could suppress her agony no longer, 
and the tears which she had till now restrained flowed in co- 
pious torrents from her eyes. * Whatever may be your 
opinion of me,' she cried, after a passionate embrace, c noth- 
ing can be at this hour farther from my thoughts than the 
crime you seem to consider, as it were, inevitable. If such 
an idea ever suggests itself to my imagination, may the earth 
in that instant open, and swallow me up, and forever vanish 
all hope of that joy which promises a blessed immortality ! 
Banish this mistrust from your bosom, and let me enjoy the full 
and delightful hope of seeing you again return to these arms.' 

" Having left untried no effort to comfort and console his 
wife, he set sail the next day. His voyage was prosperous, 
and he soon arrived in Alexandria. 



332 THE RECREATIONS OF 

"In the mean time our heroine lived in the tranquil en- 
joyment of a large fortune, in possession of every luxury ; 
though, with the exception of her relatives and immediate 
friends, no person was admitted to her society. The busi- 
ness of her absent husband was discharged by trustworthy 
servants ; and she inhabited a large mansion , in whose splen- 
did rooms she was able to enjoy the daily pleasure of recall- 
ing the remembrance of his love. 

" But, notwithstanding her quiet and retired mode of life, 
the young gallants of the town did not long remain inactive. 
They frequented the street, passed incessantly before her 
windows, and in the evening sought to attract her attention 
by means of music and serenades. The pretty prisoner, 
although she at first found these attentions troublesome and 
annoying, gradually became reconciled to the vexation ; and, 
when the long evenings arrived, she began to consider the 
serenades in the light of an agreeable entertainment, and 
could scarcely suppress an occasional sigh, which, strictly 
speaking, belonged to her absent husband. 

" But her unknown admirers, instead of gradually weary- 
ing in their attentions, as she had once expected, became 
more assiduous in their devotion. She began, at last, to 
recognize the oft-repeated instruments and voices, to grow 
familiar with the melodies and to feel curious to know the 
names of her most constant serenaders. She might inno- 
cently indulge so harmless a curiosity. She now peeped oc- 
casionally through her curtains and half -closed shutters, to 
notice the pedestrians, and to observe more particularly the 
youths whose eyes were constantly directed towards her 
windows. They were invariably handsome, and fashionably 
dressed ; but their manner and whole deportment were un- 
mistakably marked by frivolity and vanity. They seemed 
more desirous of making themselves remarkable by directing 
their attention to the house of so beautiful a woman, than of 
displaying towards her a feeling of peculiar respect. 

"'Really,' the lady would sometimes say to herself in a 
tone of raillery, ' really my husband showed a deal of pene- 
tration. The condition under which he allowed me to enjoy 
the privilege of a lover excludes all those who care in the 
least for me, or to whom I am likely to take a fancy. He 
seems to have well understood that prudence, modesty, and 
silence are qualities which belong to demure old age, when 
men can value the understanding, but are incapable of 
awakening the fancy or exciting the desires. I am pretty 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 333 

sure, at least, that, amongst the youths who lay perpetual 
siege to my mansion, there is not one entitled to my confi- 
dence ; and those who might lay some claim to that virtue 
fall lamentably short in other attractions.' 

" Supported by these reflections, she allowed herself to 
take daily more and more pleasure in the music and in the 
attentions of her young admirers ; till at length, unperceived 
by herself, there gradually sprung up in her bosom t a rest- 
less desire, which she struggled to resist when it was 
already too late. Solitude and idleness, combined with com- 
fort and luxury, gave birth to an unruly passion long before 
its thoughtless victim had any suspicion of her danger. 

" Amongst the numerous endowments of her husband, she 
now saw ample reason to admire his profound knowledge of 
the world and of mankind, and his thorough acquaintance 
with woman's heart. She now perceived that that had oc- 
curred, the possibility of which she had formerly so strenu- 
ously denied, and acknowledged his wisdom in preaching the 
necessity of prudence and caution. But what could these 
virtues avail, where pitiless chance seemed to be in con- 
spiracy with her own unaccountable passions? How could 
she select one from a crowd of strangers ? and was she per- 
mitted, in case of disappointment, to make a second choice? 

" Innumerable thoughts of this nature increased the per- 
plexity of our solitar}- heroine. In vain she sought recrea- 
tion, and tried to forget herself. Her mind was perpetually 
excited by agreeable objects, and her imagination thus be- 
came impressed with the most delightful pictures of fancied 
happiness. 

4 4 In this state of mind, she was informed one day by a re- 
lation, amongst other pieces of news, that a young lawyer 
who had just finished his studies at Bologna had lately ar- 
rived in his native town. His talents were the topic of gen- 
eral admiration and encomium. His universal knowledge 
was accompanied by a modesty and reserve very uncommon 
in youth, and his personal attractions were of a high order. 
In his office of procurator he had already won, not only the 
confidence of the public, but the respect of the judges. He 
had daily business to transact at the court-house, so great 
was the increase of his professional practice. 

" Our heroine could not hear the talents of this youth so 
generally extolled, without feeling a wish to become ac- 
quainted with him, accompanied by a secret hope that he 
might prove a person upon whom, in conformity with the 



334 THE RECREATIONS OF 

permission of her husband, she might bestow her heart. She 
soon learned that he passed her dwelling daily, on his way to 
the court-house ; and she carefully watched for the hour when 
the lawyers were accustomed to assemble for the discharge 
of business. With beating heart she at length saw him 
pass ; and if his handsome figure and youthful attractions, on 
the one hand, excited her admiration, his apparent reserve 
and modesty, on the other, gave her much reason for doubt 
and anxiety. For several days she watched him silently, 
till at length she was no longer able to resist her desire to 
attract his attentiou. She dressed with care, went out upon 
the balcony, and marked his approach with feelings of sus- 
pense. But she grew troubled, and, indeed, felt ashamed, 
when she saw him pass, in contemplative mood, with 
thoughtful steps and downcast eyes, pursuing his quiet way, 
without deigning to bestow the slightest notice upon her. 
Vainly did she endeavor thus to win his attention for several 
successive days. In the same undeviating course he contin- 
ued to pass by, without raising his eyes, or looking to the 
right or to the left. But, the more she observed him, the 
more did he appear to be the very one she needed. Her wish 
to know him now grew stronger, and at length became ir- 
resistible. What ! she thought within herself : when my 
noble, sensible husband actually foresaw the extremity to 
which his absence would reduce me, when his keen percep- 
tion knew that I could not live without a friend, must I 
droop and pine away at the very time when fortune provides 
me with one whom not only my own heart, but even my 
husband, would choose, and in whose society I should be 
able to enjoy the delights of love in inviolable secrecy? Fool 
should I be, to miss such an opportunity ; fool, to resist the 
powerful impulses of love ! 

" With such reflections did she endeavor to decide upon 
some fixed course, and she did not long remain a prey to un- 
certainty. It happened with her, as it usually does with every 
one who is conquered by a passion, that she looked without 
apprehension upon all such trifling objections as shame, fear, 
timidity, and duty, and came at length to the bold resolution 
of sending her servant-maid to the young lawyer at any risk. 
and inviting him to visit her. 

" The servant found him in the company of several friends, 
and delivered her message punctually in the terms in which 
she had been instructed. The procurator was not at all sur- 
prised at the invitation. He had known the merchant pre- 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 335 

viously, was aware of his absence at present, and presumed 
that the lady required the aid of his professional services 
about some important matter of business. He promised the 
servant, therefore, that he would wait upon her mistress 
without delay. The latter heard with unspeakable joy, that 
she would soon be allowed an opportunity of seeing and speak- 
ing to her beloved. She prepared carefully for his recep- 
tion, and had her rooms arranged with the utmost elegance. 
Orange-leaves and flowers were strewn around in profusion, 
and the most costly furniture was displayed for the occasion. 
And thus the brief intervening time hastened by, which would 
otherwise have been unbearable. 

" Who can describe the emotion with which she witnessed 
his arrival, or her agitation upon inviting him to take a seat at 
her side ? She hesitated how to address him now that he had 
arrived, and found a difficulty in remembering what she had 
to say. He sat still and silent. At length she took courage 
and addressed him, not without some visible perplexity. 

u * I understand, sir, that you are but lately returned to 
your native city ; and I learn that you are universally admired 
as a talented and incomparable man. I am ready to bestow 
my utmost confidence upon you, in a matter of extraordi- 
nary importance, but which, upon reflection, would seem 
adapted rather for the ear of the confessor than that of the 
lawyer. I have been for some years married to a husband 
who is both rich and honorable, and who, as long as we have 
lived together, has never ceased to tenderly love me, and of 
whom I should not have a single word of complaint to utter, 
if an irresistible desire for travel and trade had not torn him, 
for some time, from my arms. 

" ' Being a sensible and just man, he no doubt felt con- 
scious of the injury his absence must necessarily inflict upon 
me. He knew that a young wife cannot be preserved like 
jewellery and pearls. He knew that she resembles a garden, 
full of the choicest fruits, which would be lost, not only to 
him, but to every one else, if the door were kept locked for 
years. For this reason, he addressed me in serious but 
friendly tones before his departure, and assured me, that he 
knew I should not be able to live without the society of a 
friend, and therefore not only permitted, but made me prom 
ise, that I would, in a free and unrestrained manner, follow 
the inclination which I should soon find springing up within 
my heart.' 

" She paused for a moment ; but an eloquent look, which 



336 



THE RECREATIONS OF 



the young lawyer directed towards her, encouraged her to 
proceed. 

' ' ' One only condition was imposed upon me by my indul- 
gent husband. He recommended me to use the most ex- 
treme caution, and impressed upon me strongly the necessity 
of choosing a steady, prudent, silent, and confidential friend. 
But you will excuse my continuing, — excuse the embar- 
rassment with which I must confess how I have been at- 
tracted by your numerous accomplishments, and divine from 
the confidence I have reposed in you the nature of my hopes 
and wishes.' 

" The worthy young lawyer was silent for a short time, and 
then replied, in a thoughtful tone, 'I am deeply indebted 
for the high mark of confidence with which you both honor 
and delight me. I wish to convince you that I am not un- 
worthy of your favor. But let me first answer you in a pro- 
fessional capacity : and I must confess my admiration for 
your husband, who so clearly saw the nature of the injustice 
he committed against } r ou ; for there can be no doubt of this, 
— that a husband who leaves his young wife, in order to 
visit distant countries, must be viewed in the light of a man 
who relinquishes a valuable treasure, to which, by his own 
conduct, he abandons all manner of claim. And as the first 
finder may then lawfully take possession, so I hold it to be 
natural and just, that a young woman, under the circum- 
stances you describe, should bestow her affections and her- 
self, without scruple, upon any friend who may prove worthy 
of her confidence. 

" ' But particularly when the husband, as in this case, con- 
scious of the injustice he himself commits, expressly allows 
his forsaken wife a privilege, of which he could not deprive 
her, it must be clear that he can suffer no wrong from an 
action to which he has given his own consent. 

"'Wherefore if you,' continued the young lawyer, with 
quite a different look and the most lively emphasis, and the 
most affectionate pressure of the hand, ' if you select me for 
your servant, you enrich me with a happiness, of which, till 
now, I could have formed no conception. And be assured,' 
he added, while at the same time he warmly kissed her hand, 
' that you could not have found a more true, loving, pru- 
dent, and devoted servant.' 

" This declaration tranquillized the agitated feelings of our 
tender heroine. She at once expressed her love without 
reserve. She pressed his hand, drew him nearer to her, and 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 337 

reclined hei head upon his shoulder. They had remained but 
a short time in this position, when he tried to disengage him- 
self gently, and expressed himself thus, not without emotion : 
1 Did ever happy mortal find himself in such embarrass- 
ment? I am compelled to leave you, and to do violence to 
myself in the very moment when I might surrender myself 
to the most divine enchantment. I cannot now partake the 
bliss which is prepared for me, and I earnestly pray that a 
temporary postponement may not altogether frustrate my 
fondest hopes.' 

" She inquired hastily the cause of this strange speech. 

" k When I was in Bologna,' he replied, ' and had just 
completed my studies, preparing to enter upon the practice 
of my profession, I was seized with a dangerous illness, from 
which it appeared, that, even if I should escape with my life, 
my bodily and mental faculties must sustain irreparable in- 
jury. Reduced to despair, and tortured by the pangs of 
disease, I made a solemn vow to the Virgin, that, should I 
recover, I would persist for one whole year in practising the 
strictest fast and abstinence from enjoyment of every de- 
scription. For ten months I have already adhered to my 
vow : and, considering the wonderful favor I have enjoyed, 
the time has not passed wearily ; and I have not found it 
difficult to abstain from many accustomed pleasures. But 
the two months which still remain will now seem an 
eternity; since, till their expiration, I am forbidden to 
partake a happiness whose delights are inconceivable. 
And, though you may think the time long, do not, I beseech 
you, withdraw the favor you have so bountifully bestowed 
upon me.' 

4 'Not much consoled by this announcement, she felt a 
little more encouraged when her friend added, after a few 
minutes' reflection, ' I scarcely dare to make a proposal, and 
suggest a plan, which may, perhaps, release me a little 
earlier from my vow. If I could only find some one as firm 
and resolute as myself in keeping a promise, and who would 
divide with me the time that still remains, I should then be 
the sooner free ; and nothing could impede our enjo} ment. 
Are you willing, my sweet friend, to assist in hastening our 
happiness by removing one-half of the obstacle which op- 
poses us ? I can only share my vow with one upon whom I 
can depend with full confidence. And it is severe, — noth- 
ing but bread and water twice a day, and at night a few 
hours' repose on a hard bed .' and, notwithstanding my inces- 



338 THE RECREATIONS OF 

Bant professional occupation, I must devote many hours to 
prayer. If I am obliged to attend a party, I am not thereby 
released from my duty ; and I must avoid the enjoyment of 
every dainty. If you can resolve to pass one month in the 
observance of these rules, you will find yourself the sooner 
in possession of your friend's society, which you will relish 
the more from the consciousness of having deserved it by 
your praiseworthy resolution.' 

' ' The beautiful lady was sorry to hear of the difficulty she 
had to encounter ; but the very presence of her beloved so 
increased her attachment, that no trial which would insure 
the possession of so valuable a prize appeared to her too 
difficult. She therefore assured him, in the most affection- 
ate manner, of her readiness to share the responsibility of 
his vow, and addressed him thus : 4 My sweet friend ! the 
miracle through which you have recovered your health is to 
me an event of so much value and importance, that it is not 
only my duty, but my joy, to partake the vow by which you 
are still bound. I am delighted to offer so strong a proof 
of my sincerity. I will imitate your example in the strictest 
manner ; and, until you discharge me from my obligation, 
no consideration shall induce me to stray from the path you 
point out to me.' 

' 4 The young lawyer once more repeated the conditions 
under which he was willing to transfer to her the obligation 
of one-half of his vow, and then took his leave, with the as- 
surance that he would soon visit her again, to inquire after 
her constancy and resolution. And she was then obliged to 
witness his departure, without receiving so much as one kiss, 
or pressure of the hand, and scarcely with a look of ordinary 
recognition. She found some degree of happy relief in the 
strange employment which the performance of her new duties 
imposed upon her, for she had much to do in the preparation 
for her unaccustomed course of life. In the first place, she 
removed all the beautiful exotics and flowers which had been 
procured to grace the reception of her beloved. Then a hard 
mattress was substituted for her downy bed, to which she 
retired in the evening, after having scarcely satisfied her hun- 
ger with a frugal meal of bread and water. The following 
morning found her busily employed in plain work, and in 
making a certain amount of wearing apparel for the poor in- 
mates of the town hospital. During this hew occupation she 
entertained her fancy by dwelling upon the image of her dear 
friend, and indulging the hope of future happiness ; and 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 389 

these thoughts reconciled her to the greatest privations and 
to the humblest fare. 

• c At the end of the first week the roses began to fade 
from her beautiful cheeks, her person to fall away, and her 
strength to become weak and languid ; but a visit from her 
friend imparted new animation and fortitude. He encour- 
aged her to persist in her resolution, by the example of his 
own perseverance, and by showing her the approaching cer- 
tainty of uninterrupted happiness. His visit was brief, but 
he promised to return soon. 

" With cheerful resignation she continued her new and 
strict course of life, but her strength soon declined so much 
that the most severe illness could scarcely have reduced 
her to such extreme weakness. Her friend, whose visit was 
repeated at the end of the week, sympathized with her con- 
dition, but comforted her by an assurance that one-half the 
period of her trial was already over. But the severe fast- 
ing, continual praying, and incessant work, became every 
day more unbearable ; and her excessive abstemiousness 
threatened to ruin the health of one who had been accus- 
tomed to a life of the greatest luxury. At length she found 
a difficulty in walking, and was compelled, notwithstanding 
the sultriness of the season, to wrap herself up in the warm- 
est clothing, to preserve even an ordinal*} 7 degree of heat ; 
till finally she was obliged to take to her bed. 

4 ' It would be difficult to describe the course of her reflec- 
tions when she reflected on her condition and on this strange 
occurrence, and it is impossible to imagine her distress when 
ten tedious days wearily passed without the appearance of 
the friend for whose sake she had consented to make this 
unheard-of sacrifice. But those hours of trouble sufficed to 
recall her to reason, and she formed her resolution. Her 
friend visited her after the lapse of some few days more ; and 
seating himself at her bedside, upon the very sofa which he 
had occupied when she made her first declaration of love to 
him, he encouraged and implored her, in the most tender and 
affectionate tones, to persist for a short time longer : but she 
interrupted him with a sweet smile, and assured him that she 
needed no persuasion to continue, for a few days, the per- 
formance of a vow which she knew full well had been ap- 
pointed for her advantage. ' I am, as yet, too feeble,' she 
said, ' to express . my thanks to you as I could wish. You 
have saved me from myself. You have restored me to my- 
self ; and I confess, that from this moment I am indebted to 



340 THE RECREATIONS OF 

you for my existence. My husband was, indeed, gifted with 
prudence and good sense, and well knew the nature of wo- 
man's heart. And he was, moreover, just enough not to con- 
demn a passion which he saw might spring up within my 
bosom, through his own fault ; and he was generous enough 
to make allowance for the weakness of my nature. But you, 
sir, are truly virtuous and good. You have taught me that 
we possess within us an antidote equivalent to the force of 
our passions ; that we are capable of renouncing luxuries to 
which we have been accustomed, and of suppressing our 
strongest inclinations. You have taught me this lesson by 
means of hope and of delusion. Neither is any longer 
necessary : you have made me acquainted with the existence 
of that ever-living conscience, which, in peaceful silence, 
dwells within our souls, and never ceases with gentle admoni- 
tions to remind us of its presence, till its sway becomes 
irresistibly acknowledged. And now farewell. May your 
influence over others be as effective as it has been over me. 
Do not confine your labors to the task of unravelling legal 
perplexities, but show mankind, by your own gentle guidance 
and example, that within every bosom the germ of hidden 
virtue lies concealed. Esteem and fame will be your reward ; 
and, far better than any statesman or hero, you will earn the 
glorious title of father of your country.' " 

" We must all extol the character of your young lawyer," 
said the baroness, at the conclusion of the clergyman's tale : 
4 ' polished, wise, interesting, and instructive, I wish every 
preceptor were like him, who undertakes to restrain or recall 
youth from the path of error. I think such a tale is pecul- 
iarly entitled to be styled a moral anecdote. Relate some 
more of the same nature, and your audience will have ample 
reason to be thankful." 

Clergyman. I am delighted that my tale has earned your 
approbation, but I am sorry you wish to hear more of such 
moral anecdotes ; for, to say the truth, this is the first and 
last of the kind. 

Louisa. It certainly does not do you much credit, to say 
that your best collection only furnishes a single speci- 
men. 

Clergyman. You have not understood me. It is not 
the only moral tale I can relate ; but they all bear so close 
a resemblance, that each would seem orly to repeat the 
original. 

Louisa. Really, you should give up your paradoxical 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 341 

Style, which so much obscures your conversation, and express 
yourself more clearly. 

Clergyman. With pleasure, then. No anecdote deserves 
to be called moral which does not prove that man possesses 
within himself that power to subdue his inclinations which 
may be called out by the persuasion of another. My story 
teaches this doctrine, and no moral tale can teach otherwise. 

Louisa. Then, in order to act morally, I must act con- 
trary to m} r inclinations? 

Clergyman. Undoubtedly. 

Louisa. Even when they are good? 

Clergyman. No inclinations are abstractedly good, but 
only so as far as they effect good. 

Louisa. Suppose I have an inclination for benevolence ? 

Clergyman. Then, you should subdue your inclination 
for benevolence if you find that it ruins your domestic 
happiness. 

Louisa. Suppose I felt an irresistible impulse to grati- 
tude? 

Clergyman. It is wisely ordained that gratitude can 
never be an impulse. But if it were, it would be better to 
prove ungrateful than to commit a crime in order to oblige 
your benefactor. 

Louisa. Then, there may be a thousand moral stories? 

Clergyman. Yes, in your sense. But none of them 
would read a lesson different from the one our lawyer taught, 
and in this sense there can be but one story of the kind : 
you are right, however, if you mean that the incidents can 
be various. 

Louisa. If you had expressed your meaning more pre- 
cisely at first, we should not have disagreed. 

Clergyman. And we should have had no conversation . 
Errors and misunderstandings are the springs of action, of 
life, and of amusement. 

Louisa. I cannot agree with you. Suppose a brave 
man saves another at the risk of his own life : is that not a 
moral action? 

Clergyman. Not according to my mode of thinking. 
But, suppose a cowardly man were to overcome his fears and 
do the same, that would be a moral action. 

Baroness. I wish, my dear friend, you would give us 
some examples, and convince Louisa of the truth of your 
theory. Certainly, a mind disposed to good must delight 
us when we become acquainted with it. Nothing in the 



342 THE RECREATIONS OF 

world can be more pleasing than a mind under the guidance 
of reason and conscience. If you know a tale upon such 
a subject, we should like to hear it. I am fond of stories 
which illustrate a doctrine. They give a better explanation 
of one's meaning than dry words can do. 

Clergyman. I certainly can relate some anecdotes of 
that kind, for I have paid some attention to those qualities 
of the human mind. 

Louisa. I would just make one observation. I must 
confess I do not like stories which oblige us to travel, in 
imagination, to foreign lands. Why must every adventure 
take place in Italy, in Sicily, or in the East? Are Naples, 
Palermo, and Smyrna the only places where any thing inter- 
esting can happen? One may transpose the scene of our 
fairy-tales to Ormus and Samarcand for the purpose of per- 
plexing the imagination ; but, if you would instruct the 
understanding or the heart, do it by means of domestic sto- 
ries, — family portraits, — in which we shall recognize our 
own likeness ; and our hearts will more readily sympathize 
with sorrow. 

Clergyman. You shall be gratified. But there is some- 
thing peculiar, too, about family stories. They bear a 
strong resemblance to each other ; and, besides, we daily see 
every incident and situation of which they are capable fully 
worked out upon the stage. However, I am willing to make 
the attempt, and shall relate a story, with some of the inci- 
' dents of which you are already familiar ; and it will only 
prove interesting so far as it is an exact representation of 
the picture in your own minds. 

" We may often observe in families, that the children in- 
herit, not only the personal appearance, but even the mental 
qualities, of their parents ; and it sometimes happens that 
one child combines the dispositions of both father and 
mother in a peculiar and remarkable manner. 
^ "A youth, whom I may name Ferdinand, was a strong 
instance of this fact. In his appearance he resembled both 
parents, and one could distinguish in his mind the separate 
disposition of each. He possessed the gay, thoughtless 
■manner of his father, in his strong desire to enjoy the pres- 
ent moment, and, in most cases, to prefer himself to others ; 
but he also inherited the tranquil and reflective mind of his 
mother, no less than her love for honesty and justice, and a 
willingness, like her, perpetually to sacrifice himself for the 
advantage of others. To explain his contradictory conduct 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 343 

upon many occasions, his companions were often reduced to 
the necessity of believing that he had two souls. I must 
pass by many adventures which happened in his youth, and 
shall content myself with relating one anecdote, which not 
only explains his character fully, but forms a remarkable 
epoch in his life. 

" His youth was passed in every species of enjoyment. His 
parents were affluent, and brought up their children extrava- 
gantly. If the father indulged in unreasonable expenditure, 
either in company, at the gaming-table^ or in other dissipa- 
tions, it was the habit of the mother to restrain her own, 
and the household expenses, so as to supply the deficiency ; 
though she never allowed an appearance of want to be ob- 
served. Her husband was fortunate in his business ; he was 
successful in several hazardous speculations he had under- 
taken : and, as he was fond of society, he had the happiness 
to form many pleasant and advantageous connections. 

* ' The children of a family usually copy those members of 
the household who seem to enjoy their lives most. They 
see in the example of a father who follows such a course, 
a model worthy of imitation ; and, as they are seldom slow 
in obeying their inclinations, their wishes and desires often 
increase very much in disproportion to their means of enjoy- 
ment. Obstacles to their gratification soon arise : each new 
addition to the family forms a new claim upon the capabili- 
ties of the parents, who frequently surrender their own 
pleasures for the sake of their children ; and, by common 
consent, a more simple and less expensive mode of living 
is adopted. 

" Ferdinand grew up with a consciousness of the disagreea- 
ble truth, that he was often deprived of many luxuries which 
his more fortunate companions enjoyed . It distressed him 
to appear inferior to any of them in the richness of his 
apparel, or the liberality of his expenditure. He wished to 
resemble his father, whose example was daily before him, 
and who appeared to him a twofold model, — first, as a parent, 
in whose favor a son is usually prejudiced ; and, secondly, as 
a man who led a pleasant and luxurious life, and was, there- 
fore, apparently loved and esteemed by a numerous acquaint- 
ance. It is easy to suppose that all this occasioned great 
vexation to his mother ; but in this way Ferdinand grew up, 
with his wants daily increasing, until at length, when he had 
attained his eighteenth year, his requirements and wishes 
were sadly out of proportion to his condition. 



344 THE RECREATIONS OF 

" He had hitherto avoided contracting debts ; for this vice 
his mother had impressed him with the greatest abhor- 
rence : and, in order to win his confidence, she had, in 
numerous instances, exerted herself to gratify his desires, 
and relieve him from occasional embarrassments. But it 
happened, unfortunately, that she was now compelled to 
practise the most rigid economy in her household expendi- 
ture, and this at a time when his wants, from many causes, 
had increased. He had commenced to enter more generally 
into society, tried to win the affections of a very attractive 
girl, and to rival ancl even surpass his companions in the 
elegance of his attire. His mother, being unable any longer 
to satisfy his demands, appealed to his duty and filial affection 
so as to induce him to restrain his expenses. He admitted 
the justice of her expostulations, but, being unable to follow 
her advice, was soon reduced to a state of the greatest men- 
tal embarrassment. 

"Without forfeiting the object of his dearest wishes, he 
found it impossible to change his mode of life. From his 
boyhood he had been addicted to his present pursuits, and 
could alter no iota of his habits or practices without running 
the risk of losing an old friend, a desirable companion, or, 
what was worse, abandoning the society of his dearest love. 

" His attachment became stronger ; as the love which was 
bestowed upon him not only flattered his vanity, but compli- 
mented his understanding. 

4 i It was something to be preferred to a host of suitors by 
a handsome and agreeable girl, who was acknowledged to 
be the richest heiress in the city. He boasted of the pref- 
erence with which he was regarded, and she also seemed 
proud of the delightful bondage in which she was held. It 
now became indispensable that he should be in constant 
attendance upon her, that he should devote his time and 
money to her service, and afford perpetual proofs of the 
value he set upon her affection. All these inevitable results 
of his attachment occasioned Ferdinand more expense than 
he would otherwise have incurred. His ladylove (who was 
named Ottilia) had been intrusted by her parents to the care 
of an aunt, and no exertions had been spared to introduce 
her to society under the most favorable circumstances. 
Ferdinand exhausted every resource to furnish her with the 
enjoyments of society, into all of which she entered with 
the greatest delight, and of which she herself proved one 
of the greatest attractions. 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 345 

" No situation could certainly be more wretched than that 
to which Ferdinand was now reduced. His mother, whom 
he sincerely loved and respected, had pointed out to him the 
necessity of embarking in duties very different from those 
which he had hitherto practised : she could no longer assist 
him in a pecuniary way. He felt a horror at the debts which 
were daily becoming more burdensome to him, and he saw 
before him the difficult task of reconciling his impoverished 
condition with his anxiet} T to appear rich and practise gener- 
osity. No mind could be a prey to greater unhappiness. 

' ' His mind was now forcibly impressed with thoughts which 
had formerly only indistinctly suggested themselves to his 
imagination. Certain unpleasant reflections became to him 
the source of great unhappiness. He had once looked upon 
his father as a model : he now began to regard him as a rival. 
What the son wished to enjoy, the parent actually possessed ; 
and the latter felt none of the anxieties or grievances where- 
with the former was tortured. Ferdinand, however, was in 
full possession of every comfort of life ; but he envied his 
father the luxuries which he enjoyed, and with which he 
thought he might very well dispense. But the latter was of 
a different opinion. He was one of those beings whose 
desires are wholly insatiable, and who, for their own gratifi- 
cation, subject their family and dependants to the greatest 
privations. His son received from him a certain pecuniary 
allowance, but a regular account of his expenditure was 
strictly exacted. 

" The eye of the envious is sharpened by restrictions, and 
dependants are never more censorious than when the com- 
mands of superiors are at variance with their practice. Thus 
Ferdinand came to watch strictly the conduct of his father, 
particularly upon points which concerned his expenditure. 
He listened attentively when it was rumored that his father 
had lost heavily at the gambling-table, and expressed great 
dissatisfaction at any unwonted extravagance which he might 
indulge. ' Is it not astonishing?' he would say to himself, 
' that, whilst parents revel in every luxury that can spring 
from the possession of a property which they accidentally 
enjoy, they can debar their children of those reasonable 
pleasures which their season of youth most urgently re- 
quires? And by what right do they act thus? How have 
they acquired this privilege ? Does it not arise from mere 
chance ? and can that be a right which is the result of acci 
dent? If my grandfather, who loved me as his own son. 



346 THE RECREATIONS OF 

were still alive, I should be better provided for. He would 
not see me in want of common necessaries, those things, I 
mean, which we have had from our birth. He would no 
more let me want, than he would approve my father's ex- 
travagance. Had he lived longer, had he known how worthy 
his grandchild would prove to inherit a fortune, he would 
have provided in his will for my earlier independence. I 
have heard that his death was unexpected, that he had in- 
tended to make a will ; and I am probably indebted to mere 
chance for the postponement of my enjoying a fortune, 
which, if my father continue his present course, will proba- 
bly be lost to me forever.' 

" With such discontented thoughts did Ferdinand often 
perplex himself in those hours of solitude and unhappiness, 
in which he was prevented, Ly the want of money, from join- 
ing his companions upon some agreeable party of pleasure. 
Then it was that he discussed those dangerous questions of 
right and property, and considered how far individuals are 
bound by laws to which they have given no consent, or 
whether the}^ may lawfully burst through the restraints of 
society. But all these were mere pecuniary sophistries ; for 
every article of value which he formerly possessed had grad- 
ually disappeared, and his daily wants had now far outgrown 
his allowance. 

" He soon became silent and reserved ; and, at such times, 
even his respect for his mother disappeared, as she could 
afford him no assistance : and he began to entertain a hatred 
for his father, who, according to his sentiments, was per- 
petually in his way. 

u Just at this period he made a discover}-, which increased 
his discontent. He learned that his father was not only 
an irregular, but an improvident, manager of his household. 
He observed that he often took laoney hastily from his desk, 
without entering it in his account-book, and that he was 
afterwards perplexed with private calculations, and annoyed 
at his inability to balance his accounts. More than once did 
Ferdinand notice this ; and his father's carelessness was the 
more galling to him, as it often occurred at times when he 
himself was suffering severely from the want of money. 

" Whilst he was in this state of mind, an unlucky accident 
happened, which afforded an opportunity for the commission 
of a crime, to which he had long felt himself impelled by a 
secret and ungovernable impulse. 

" His father had desired him to examine and arrange a coL- 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 347 

Lection of old letters. One Sunday, when be was alone, he 
set to work in a room which contained his father's writing- 
desk, and in which his money was usually kept. The box 
of letters was heavy ; and, in the act of lifting it from the 
ground, he pushed unintentionally against the desk, when 
the latter suddenly flew open. The rolls of money lay tempt- 
ingly displayed before him. Without allowing time for a 
moment's reflection, he took a roll of gold from that part of 
the desk where he thought his father kept a supply of money 
for his own occasional wants. He shut the desk again, and 
repeated the experiment of opening it. He once more suc- 
ceeded, and saw that he could now command the treasure as 
completely as if he had possessed the key. 

4 ' He soon plunged once more into all those dissipations 
which he had lately been obliged to renounce. He became 
more constant than ever in his attentions to Ottilia, and more 
passionate in the pursuit of pleasure. Even his former 
graceful animation was converted into a species of excite- 
ment, which, though it was far from unbecoming, was defi- 
cient in that kind attention to others which is so agreeable. 

" Opportunity is to passion what a spark is to gunpowder, 
and those desires which we gratify contrary to the dictates of 
conscience always rule with the most ungovernable power. 
Ferdinand's own convictions loudly condemned his conduct, 
but he endeavored to justify himself by specious arguments ; 
and though his manner became in appearance more free and 
unrestrained than before, he was in reality a captive to the 
influence of his evil inclinations. 

" Just at this time the wearing of extravagant trifles came 
into fashion. Ottilia was fond of personal ornaments, and 
Ferdinand endeavored to discover a mode of gratifying her 
taste without apprising her where her supply of presents 
came from. Her suspicions fell upon an old uncle, and Fer- 
dinand's gratification was indescribable at observing the 
satisfaction of his mistress and the course of her mistaken 
suspicions. But, unfortunately for his peace of mind, he was 
now obliged to have frequent recourse to his father's desk, 
in order to gratify Ottilia's fancy and his own inclinations ; 
and he pursued this course now the more boldly, as he had 
lately observed that his father grew more and more careless 
about entering in his account-book the sums he himself 
required. 

" The time now arrived for Ottilia's return to her parents. 
The 3'oung couple were overpowered with grief at the pros- 



348 THE RECREATIONS OF 

pect of their separation, and one circumstance added to their 
sorrow. Ottilia had accidentally learned that the presents we 
have spoken of had come from Ferdinand : she questioned 
him, and he confessed the truth with feelings of evident 
sorrow. She insisted upon returning them, and this occa- 
sioned him the bitterest anguish. He declared his deter- 
mination not to live without her, prayed that she would 
preserve him her attachment, and implored that she would 
not refuse her hand as soon as he should have provided 
an establishment. She loved him, was moved at his en- 
treaties, promised what he wished, and sealed her vow with 
the warmest embraces and a thousand passionate kisses. 

44 After her departure Ferdinand was reduced to sad soli- 
tude. The company in which he had found delight pleased 
him no more, she being absent. From the mere force of 
habit he mingled with his former associates, and had re- 
course to his father's desk to supply those expenses which 
in reality he felt but slight inclination to indulge. He was 
now frequently alone, and his natural good disposition be- 
gan to obtain the mastery over him. In moments of calm 
reflection he felt astonished how he could have listened to 
that deceitful sophistry about justice and right, and his claim 
to the goods of others ; and he wondered at his approval of 
those evil arguments by which he had been led to justify his 
dishonest conduct. But in the mean time, before these cor- 
rect ideas of truth and uprightness produced a practical 
effect upon his conduct, he yielded more than once to the 
temptation of supplying his wants, in extreme cases, from 
his father's treasury. This plan, however, was now adopted 
with more reluctance ; and he seemed to be under the irre- 
sistible impulse of an evil spirit. 

" At length he took courage, and formed the resolution of 
rendering a repetition of the practice impossible, by inform- 
ing his father of the facility with which his desk could be 
opened. He took his measures cautiously ; and once, in the 
presence of his father, he carried the box of letters we have 
mentioned into the room, pretended to stumble accidentally 
against the desk, and astonished his lather by causing it to 
spring open. They examined the lock without delay, and 
found that it had become almost useless from age. It was 
at once repaired, and Ferdinand soon enjoyed a return of his 
peace of mind when he saw his father's rolls of money once 
more in safe custody. 

" But he was not content with this. He formed the resolu- 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 349 

tion of restoring the money which he had abstracted. He 
commenced the most economical course of life for this pur- 
pose, with a view of saving from his allowance all that could 
possibly be spared from the merest necessities. It is true 
that this was but little ; but it appeared much, as it was the 
commencement of a system of restitution : and there will 
always be a wonderful difference between the last guinea 
borrowed and the first guinea saved. He had pursued this 
upright course for but a short time, when his father deter- 
mined to settle him in business. His intention was to form 
a connection with a manufactory at some distance from his 
residence. The design was to establish a company in a part 
of the country where labor and provisions were cheap, to 
appoint an agent, and extend the business as widely as pos- 
sible by means of money and credit. It was determined 
that Ferdinand should inquire into the practicability of the 
scheme, and forward a circumstantial report of his proceed- 
ings. His father furnished him with money for his journey, 
but placed a moderate limit upon his expenditure. The 
supply was, however, sufficient for his wants ; and Ferdinand 
had no reason to complain of a deficiency. 

"Ferdinand used the utmost economy also upon his jour- 
ney, and found upon the closest calculation that he could live 
upon one-third of his allowance, by practising strict restraint. 
He was now anxious to find means of gradually saving a cer- 
tain sum, and it soon presented itself ; for opportunity comes 
indifferently to the good and to the bad, and favors all par- 
ties alike. In the neighborhood which he designed to visit, 
he found things more to his advantage than had been expected. 
No new habits of expense had as yet been introduced. A 
moderate capital alone had been invested in business, and 
the manufacturers were satisfied with small profits. Ferdi- 
nand soon saw, that with a large capital, and the advantages 
of a new system, by purchasing the raw material by whole- 
sale, and erecting machinery under the guidance of experi- 
enced workmen, large and solid advantages might be secured. 

"The prospect of a life of activity gave him the greatest 
delight. The image of his beloved Ottilia was ever before 
him ; and the charming and picturesque character of the 
country made him anxiously wish that his father might be 
induced to establish him in this spot, commit the conduct of 
the new manufactory to him, and thus afford him the means 
of attaining independence. His attention to business was 
secured by the demands of his own personal interests. He 



350 THE RECREATIONS OF 

now found an opportunity, for the first time in his life, for 
the exercise of his understanding and judgment, and for 
exerting his other mental powers. Not only the beautiful 
neighborhood, but his business and occupation, were full of 
attractions for him : they acted as balm and cordial to his 
wounded heart, whenever he recalled the painful remembrance 
of his father's house, in which, influenced by a species of 
insanity, he had acted in a manner which now seemed to him 
in the highest degree criminal. 

"His constant companion was a friend of his family, — 
a person of strong mind, but delicate health, who had first 
conceived the project of founding this establishment. He 
instructed Ferdinand in all his own vi€ts and projects, and 
seemed to take great pleasure in the thorough harmony of 
mind which existed between them. This latter personage 
led a simple and retired life, partly from choice, and partly 
because his health required it. He had no family of his own. 
His household establishment was conducted by a niece, who 
he intended should inherit his fortune ; and it was his wish 
to see her united to a person of active and enterprising dis- 
position, who, by means of capital and persevering industry, 
might carry on the business which his infirm health and want 
of means disqualified him from conducting. His first inter- 
view with Ferdinand suggested that he had found the man 
he wanted ; and he was the more strongly confirmed in this 
opinion, upon observing his fondness for business, and his 
attachment to the place. His niece became aware of his in- 
tentions, and seemed to approve of them. She was a } T oung 
and interesting girl, of sweet and engaging disposition. Her 
care of her uncle's establishment had imparted to her mind 
the valuable qualities of activity and decision, whilst her 
attention to his health had softened down these traits by a 
proper union of gentleness and affection. It would have 
been difficult to find a person better calculated to make a 
husband happy. 

" But Ferdinand's mind was engrossed with the thoughts 
of Ottilia's love : he saw no attractions in the charms of this 
country beauty ; or, at least, his admiration was circumscribed 
by the wish, that, if ever Ottilia settled down as his wife in 
this part of the country, she might have such a person for 
her assistant and housekeeper. But he was free and unre- 
strained in his intercourse with the young lad} 7 , he valued 
her more as he came to know her better, and his conduct 
became more respectful and attentive ; and both she and 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 351 

her uncle soon put their own interpretations upon his be- 
havior. 

" Ferdinand had in the mean time made all the requisite 
inquiries about his father's business. The uncle's sugges- 
tions had enabled him to form certain projects which, with his 
usual thoughtlessness, he made the subject of conversation. 
He had more than once uttered certain gallant speeches when 
conversing with the niece, until her uncle and herself fancied 
that he actually indulged intentions which gave them both 
unfeigned satisfaction. To Ferdinand's great joy, he had. 
learned that he could not only derive great advantage from 
his father's plan, but that another favorable project would 
enable him to make restitution of the money he had with 
drawn, and the recollection of which pressed like a heavy 
burden upon his conscience. He communicated his intentions 
to his friend, who tendered, not only his cordial congratula- 
tions, but every possible assistance to carry out his views. 
He even proposed to furnish his young friend with the 
necessary merchandise upon credit, a part of winch offer was 
thankfully accepted ; some portion of the goods being paid 
for with what money Ferdinand had saved from his travelling 
expenses, and a short credit being taken for the remainder. 

" It would be difficult to describe the joy with which Fer- 
dinand prepared for his return home. There can be no 
greater delight than is experienced by a man who, by his 
own unaided resources, frees himself from the consequences 
of error. Heaven looks down with satisfaction upon such a 
spectacle ; and we cannot deny the force of the seeming para- 
dox which assures us that there is more jo} T before God over 
one returning sinner, than over ninet3 r -nme just. 

4 'But, unfortunately, neither the good resolutions nor the 
repentance and improvement of Ferdinand could remove the 
evil consequences of his crime, which were destined once more 
to disturb and agitate his mind with the most painful reflec- 
tions. The storm had gathered during his absence, and it 
was destined to burst over his head upon his return. 

"We have already had occasion to observe, that Ferdi- 
nand's father was most irregular in his habits ; but his business 
was under the superintendence of a clever manager. He had 
not himself missed the money which had been abstracted by 
his son, with the exception of one roll of foreign money, 
which he had won from a stranger at play. This he had 
missed, and the circumstance seemed to him unaccountable. 
He wns afterwards somewhat surprised to perceive that 



352 THE RECREATIONS OF 

several rolls of ducats could not be found, money which he 
had some time before lent to a friend, but which he knew had 
been repaid. He was aware of the previous insecurity of 
his desk, and felt, therefore, convinced that he had been 
robbed. This feeling rendered him extremely unhappy. 
His suspicions fell upon every one. In anger and exaspera- 
tion, he related the circumstance to his wife. The entire 
household was thereupon strictly examined, and neither ser- 
vants nor children were allowed to escape. The good wife 
exerted herself to tranquillize her husband : she represented 
the discredit which a mere report of this circumstance would 
bring upon the family ; that no one would sympathize in 
their misfortune, further than to humiliate them with their 
compassion ; that neither he nor she could expect to escape 
the tongue of scandal ; that strange observations would be 
made if the thief should remain undiscovered : and she susr- 
gested, that perhaps, if they continued silent, they might re- 
cover their lost money without reducing the wretched criminal 
to a state of misery for life. In this manner she prevailed 
upon her husband to remain quiet, and to investigate the 
affair in silence. 

' 6 But the discover}' was unfortunately soon made. Ottilia's 
aunt had, of course, been informed of the engagement of the 
young couple. She had heard of the presents her niece had 
received. The attachment was not approved by her, and 
she had only maintained silence in consequence of her niece's 
absence. She would have consented to her marrying Ferdi- 
nand, but she did not like uncertainty on such a subject ; 
and as she knew that he was shortly to return, and her niece 
was expected daily, she determined to inform the parents of 
the state of things, to inquire their opinion, to ask whether 
Ferdinand was to have a settlement, and if they would con- 
sent to the marriage. 

"The mother was not a little astonished at this informa- 
tion, and she was shocked at hearing of the presents which 
Ferdinand had made to Ottilia. But she concealed her sur- 
prise ; and, requesting the aunt to allow her some time to 
confer with her husband, she expressed her own concurrence 
in the intended marriage, and her expectation that her son 
would be advantageously provided for. 

" The aunt took her leave, but Ferdinand's mother did not 
deem it advisable to communicate the circumstance to her 
husband. She now had to undertake the sad duty of dis- 
covering whether Ferdinand had purchased Ottilia's presents 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 353 

with the stolen money. She went straight to the shopkeeper 
who dealt in such goods, made some general inquiries, and 
said at last, * that he ought not to overcharge her, particu- 
larly as her son, who had bought some similar articles, had 
procured them from him at a more reasonable charge.' This 
the tradesman denied, producing the account, and further 
observing that he had even added something for the ex- 
change ; as Ferdinand had paid for the goods partly in foreign 
money. He specified the exact nature of the coin ; and, to 
her inexpressible grief, it was the very same which had been 
stolen from her husband. She left the shop with sorrowful 
heart. Ferdinand's crime was but too evident. The sum 
her husband had lost was large, and she saw in all its force, 
the extent of the crime and its evil results. But she had 
prudence enough to conceal her discovery. She waited for 
the return of her son, with feelings of mingled fear and 
anxiety. Although she wished for an explanation, she 
dreaded the consequences of a further inquiry. 

" At length he arrived in the highest spirits. He expected 
the greatest praise from the manner in which he trans- 
acted his business, and was the bearer of a sum of money 
sufficient to make compensation for what he had criminally 
abstracted. His father heard his statement with pleasure, 
but did not manifest so much delight as the son expected. 
His late losses had irritated his temper ; and he was the more 
distressed, because he had some large pa}'ments to make at 
the moment. Ferdinand felt hurt at his father's depression 
of mind, and his own peace was further disturbed by the 
sight of every thing around him : the very room in which he 
was, the furniture, and the sight of the fatal desk, those 
silent witnesses of his crime, spoke loudly to his guilty con- 
science. His satisfaction was at an end. He shrunk within 
himself, and felt like a culprit. 

" After a few clays' delay he was about to distract his at- 
tention from these thoughts by examining the merchandise he 
had ordered, when his mother, finding him alone, reproached 
him with his fault in a tone of affectionate earnestness, which 
did not allow the smallest opportunity for prevarication. He 
was overcome with grief. He threw himself at her feet, im- 
ploring her forgiveness, acknowledging his crime, and pro- 
testing that nothing but his affection for Ottilia had misled 
him : he assured her, in conclusion, that it was the only of- 
fence of the kind of which he had ever been guilty. He 
related the circumstances of his bitter repentance, of his 

12— Goethe Vol 8 



354 THE RECREATIONS OF 

having acquainted his father with the insecurity of his desk, 
and finally informed her how, by personal privations and a for- 
tunate speculation, he was in a condition to make restitution. 

" His mother heard him calmly, but insisted on knowing 
how he had disposed of so much money ; as the presents 
would account but for a small part of the sum that was miss- 
ing. She produced, to his dismay, an account of what his 
father had missed ; but he denied having taken, even so much 
silver : the missing gold he solemnly protested he had never 
touched. His mother became exasperated at this denial. She 
rebuked him his attempting to deceive her, and that at a mo- 
ment when he laid claim to the virtue of repentance ; asserting 
that if he could be guilty in one respect, she must doubt his 
innocence in another. She suggested that he might perhaps 
have accomplices amongst his dissipated companions, that 
perhaps the business he had carried on was transacted with 
the stolen money, and that probably he would have confessed 
nothing if his crime had not been accidentally discovered. 
She threatened him with the anger of his father, with judicial 
punishment, with her highest displeasure ; but nothing affected 
him more than his learning that his projected marriage with 
Ottilia had been already spoken of. She left him in the 
most wretched condition. His real crime had been discov- 
ered, and he was suspected of even greater guilt. How could 
he ever persuade his parents that he had not stolen the gold ? 
He dreaded the public exposure which was likely to result 
from his father's irritable temper, and he now had time to 
compare his present wretched condition with the happiness 
he might have attained. All his prospects of an active life 
and of a marriage with Ottilia were at an end. He saw his 
utter wretchedness, abandoned, a fugitive in foreign lands, 
exposed to every species of misfortune. 

" But these reflections were not the worst evil he had to 
encounter ; though they bewildered his mind, wounded his 
pride, and crushed his affections. His most severe pangs 
arose from the thought, that his honest resolution, his noble 
intention to repair the past, was suspected, repudiated, and 
denied. And, even if these thoughts gave birth to a feeling 
resembling despair, he could not deny that he had deserved 
his fate ; and to this conviction must be added his knowledge 
of the fatal truth, that one crime is sufficient to destroy the 
character forever. Such meditations, and the apprehension 
that his firmest resolutions of amendment might be looked 
upon as insincere, made life itself a burden. 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 856 

64 In this moment of abandonment he appealed to Heaven 
for assistance. He sank upon his knees, and, moistening 
the ground with tears of contrition, implored help from his 
divine Maker. His prayer was worthy of being heardc Man, 
throwing off his load of crimes, has a claim upon Heaven. 
He who has exhausted every effort of his own may, as a 
last resource, appeal to God. He was for some time en- 
gaged in earnest prayer, when the door opened, and some one 
entered his apartment. It was his mother, who approached 
him with a cheerful look, saw his agitation, and addressed 
him with consoling words. 4 How happy I am,' she said, 
' to find that I may credit your assertions, and regard your 
sorrow as sincere ! The missing sum of gold has been found : 
your father, when he received it from his friend, handed it 
to his secretary, who forgot the circumstance amid the 
numerous transactions of the day. And, with respect to the 
silver, you are also right ; as the amount taken is less than I 
had supposed. Unable to conceal my joy, I promised your 
father to replace the missing sum if he would consent to 
forbear making any further inquiry.' 

" Ferdinand's joy was indescribable. He completed at 
once his business arrangements, gave his mother the prom- 
ised money, and in addition replaced the amount which his 
father had lost through his own irregularity. He became* 
gradually more cheerful and happy, but the whole circum- 
stance produced a serious impression upon his mind. He \ 
became convinced that every man has power to accomplish I *^c 
good, and that our divine Maker will infallibly extend to him  
his assistance in the hour of trial, — a truth which he himself 
had learned from late experience. He now unfolded to his 
father his plan of establishing himself in the neighborhood 
from which he had lately returned. He fully explained the 
nature of the intended business. His father consented to his 
proposals, and his mother at a proper time related to her 
husband the attachment of Ferdinand to Ottilia. He was 
delighted at the prospect of having so charming a daughter- 
in-law, and felt additional pleasure at the idea of being able 
to establish his son without the necessity of incurring much 
expense." 

"I like this story," said Louisa, when the old clergyman 
had finished his tale ; " and though the incidents are taken 
from low life, yet the tone is sufficiently elevated to prove 
agreeable. And it seems to me, that if we examine our- 



■' 



356 THE RECREATIONS OF 

selves, or observe others, we shall find that men are seldom 
influenced by their own reflections, either to pursue or to 
abandon a certain course, but are generally impelled by 
extraneous circumstances." 

"I wish for my part," said Charles, "that we were not 
obliged to deny ourselves any thing, and that we had no 
knowledge of those blessings which we are not allowed to 
possess. But unfortunately we walk in an orchard where, 
though all the trees are loaded with fruit, we are compelled 
to leave them untouched, to satisfy ourselves with the enjoy- 
ment of the shade, and forego the greatest indulgence." 

"Now," said Louisa to the clergyman, " let us hear the 
rest of the story." 

Clergyman. It is finished. 

Louisa. The denoument may be finished, but we should 
like to hear the end. 

Clergyman. Your distinction is just ; and, since you seem 
interested in the fate of my friend, I will tell you briefly what 
happened to him. 

" Relieved from the oppressive weight of so dreadful a 
crime, and enjoying some degree of satisfaction at his own 
conduct, his thoughts were now directed to his future happi- 
ness ; and he expected with anxiety the return of Ottilia, that 
he might explain his position, and perform the promise he 
had given her. She came, accompanied by her parents. 
He hastened to meet her, and found her more beautiful than 
ever. He waited with impatience for an opportunity of 
speaking to her alone, and of unfolding all his future pro- 
jects. The moment arrived ; and with a heart full of ten- 
derness and love he spoke of his hopes, of his expectations 
of happiness, and of his wish to share it with her. But 
what was his surprise and astonishment when he found that 
she heard his announcement with indifference and even with 
contempt, and indulged in unpleasant jokes about the her- 
mitage prepared for their reception, and the interest they 
wou?.d excite by enacting the characters of shepherd and 
shepherdess in a pastoral abode. 

" Her behavior occasioned bitter reflections. He was hurt 
and grieved at her indifference. She had been unjust to 
him, and he now began to observe faults in her conduct 
which had previously escaped his attention. In addition, it 
required no very keen perception to remark that a cousin, 
who had accompanied her, had made an impression upon her, 
and won a large portion of her affections. 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 357 

" But Ferdinand soon perceived the necessity of strug- 
gling with this new source of sorrow ; and, as victory had 
attended his exertions in one instance, he horjd to be suc- 
cessful upon a second occasion. He saw Ottilia frequently, 
and determined to observe her closely. His conduct towards 
her was attentive and affectionate, and her deportment was of 
a similar nature ; but her attractions had become diminished 
for him : he soon found that her professions were not cordial 
or sincere, and that she could be affectionate and cold, 
attractive and repulsive, charming and disagreeable, accord- 
ing to the mere whim of the moment. He gradually became 
indifferent to her, and at length resolved to break the last 
link of their connection. 

" But this was more difficult than he had anticipated. He 
found her one day alone, and took courage to remind her 
of their engagement, and of those happy moments in which, 
under the influence of the most delightful feelings, they had 
discoursed with joyful anticipations of their future happiness. 
She was in a tender mood, and he began to hope that he 
might perhaps have been deceived in the estimate he had 
lately formed of her. He thereupon began to describe his 
worldly prospects, and the probable success of his intended 
establishment. She expressed her satisfaction, accompanied, 
however, with regret that their union must on this account 
be postponed still longer. She gave him to understand that 
she had not the least wish to leave the pleasures of a city 
life, but expressed her hopes that he might be able, after 
some years' active industry in the country, to return home, 
and become a citizen of consequence. She gave him, more- 
over, to understand that she expected he would play a more 
respectable and honest part in life than his father, 

" Ferdinand saw plainly that he could expect no happiness 
from such a union, and yet he felt the difficulty of wholly 
disengaging himself. In this state of mind he would prob- 
ably have parted from her in uncertainty about the future, 
had he not been finally influenced by the conduct of Ottilia's 
cousin, towards whom he thought she displayed too much 
tenderness. Ferdinand, thereupon, wrote a letter assuring 
her that it was still in her power to make him happy, buti 
that it could not be advisable to encourage indefinite hopes, 
or to enter into engagements for an uncertain future. 

"He trusted that this letter would produce a favorable 
answer ; but he received a reply which his heart deplored, 
hut which his judgment approved. She released him from 



358 THE RECREATIONS OF 

his promise, without rejecting his love, and adverted to her 
own feelings in the same ambiguous manner. She was still 
bound by the sense of her letter, but free by its literal mean- 
ing. But why should I delay communicating the inevitable 
result? Ferdinand hastened back to the peaceful abode he 
had left, and formed his determination at once. He became 
attentive and diligent in business, and was encouraged in 
this course by the affections of the kind being of whom we 
have already spoken, and the exertions ot her uncle to employ 
every means in his power to render them happy. I knew 
him afterwards, when he was surrounded by a numerous 
and prosperous family. He related his own story to me 
himself ; and, as it often happens with individuals whose 
early life has been marked by some uncommon accident, 
his own adventures had become so indelibly impressed upon 
his mind, that they exerted a deep influence on his conduct. 
Even as a man and as a father, he constantly denied him- 
self the enjoyment of many gratifications in order not to 
forget the practice of self-restraint ; and the whole course 
of his children's education was founded upon this principle, 
that they must accustom themselves to a frequent denial of 
their most ardent desires. 

" I once had an opportunity of witnessing an instance of the 
system he adopted. One of his children was about to eat 
something at table, of which he was particularly fond. His 
father forbade it, apparently without reason. To my aston- 
ishment, the child obeyed with the utmost cheerfulness ; and 
dinner proceeded as if nothing had occurred. And, in this 
manner, even the eldest members of the family often allowed 
a tempting dish of fruit or some other dainty to pass them 
untasted. But, notwithstanding this, a general freedom 
reigned in his house ; and there was at times a sufficient dis- 
play, both of good and bad conduct. But Ferdinand was for 
the most part indifferent to what occurred, and allowed an 
almost unrestrained license. At times, however, when a 
certain week came about, orders were given for precise 
punctuality, the clocks were regulated to the second, every 
member of the family received his orders for the day, busi- 
ness and pleasure had their turn, and no one dared to be a 
single second in arrear. I could detain you for hours in 
describing his conversation and remarks on this extraordi- 
nar} 7 system of education, He was accustomed to jest with 
me upon my vows :is a Catholic priest, and maintained that 
every man should make a vow to practise self-restraint, as 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 359 

well as to require obedience from others ; but he observed 
that the exercise of these vows, in place of being perpetu- 
ally demanded, was suitable only for certain occasions." 

The baroness observed, that she thought Ferdinand was 
perfectly right ; and she compared the authority of a parent 
to the executive power in a kingdom, which being weak, the 
legislative authority can be of little avail. 

At this moment Louisa rushed hastily to the window, hav- 
ing heard Frederick ride past. She ran to meet him, and 
accompanied him into the parlor. He seemed cheerful, not- 
withstanding his just having come from a scene of trouble 
and distress. In place of entering into a detailed descrip- 
tion of the fire which had seized the house of his aunt, he 
assured the company that he had established beyond doubt 
the fact that the desk there had been burned at the very same 
time when theirs had been split asunder in so strange a 
manner. 

He stated, that, when the fire approached the room where 
the desk was, one of the servants saved a clock which stood 
upon it ; that, in carrying it out, some accident had happened 
to the works, and it had stopped at half -past eleven ; and 
thus the coincidence of time was placed beyond all question. 
The baroness smiled ; and the tutor observed, that, although 
two things might agree in some particulars, we were not 
therefore justified in inferring their mutual dependence. But 
Louisa took pleasure in believing the connection of these two 
circumstances, particularly as she had received intelligence 
that her intended was quite well ; and, as to the rest of the 
company, they gave full scope to the flight of their imagina- 
tion. 

Charles inquired of the clergyman whether he knew a fairy- 
tale. "The imagination," he observed, " is a divine gift ; 
but I do not like to see it employed about the actualities of 
life. The airy forms to which it gives birth are delightful to 
contemplate, if we view them as beings of a peculiar order; 
but, connected with truth, they become prodigies, and are dis- 
approved by our reason and judgment. The imagination," 
he continued, " should not deal in facts, nor be employed to 
establish facts. Its proper province is art : and there its 
influence should be like that of music, which awakens our 
emotions, and makes us forget the cause by which they are 
called forth." 

" Continue," said the old clergyman, u and explain still 
further your view of the proper attributes of imaginative 



360 THE RECREATIONS OF 

works. Another property is essential to their enjo} T ment, — 
that the exercise of imagination should be voluntary. It can 
effect nothing by compulsion : it must wait for the moment 
of inspiration. Without design, and without any settled 
course, it soars aloft upon its own pinions, and, as it is borne 
forward, leaves a trace of its wonderful and devious course. 
But you must allow me to take my accustomed walk, that I 
may awaken in my soul the sweet fancies which, in former 
years, were accustomed to enchant me. I promise to relate 
a fairy-tale this evening that will amuse you all. 

They at once consented, particularly as they all hoped in 
the mean time to hear the news of which Frederick was the 
bearer. 



A FAIRY TALE. 



Wearied with the labors of the day, an old Ferryman lay 
asleep in his hut, on the bank of a wide river, which the late 
heavy rains had swollen to an unprecedented height. In 
the middle of the night he was awakened by a loud cry : he 
listened ; it was the call of some travellers who wished to be 
ferried over. 

Upon opening the door, he was surprised to see two Will- 
o'-the-wisps dancing round his boat, which was still secured 
to its moorings. Speaking with human voices, they assured 
him that they were in the greatest possible hurry, and wished 
to be carried instantly to the other side of the river. With- 
out losing a moment, the old Ferryman pushed off, and rowed 
across with his usual dexterhYy. During the passage the 
strangers whispered together in an unknown language, and 
several times burst into loud laughter ; whilst they amused 
themselves with dancing upon the sides and seats of the boat, 
and cutting fantastic capers at the bottom. 

tk The boat reels," cried the old man ; " and, if you con- 
tinue so restless, it may upset. Sit down, you Will-o'-the- 
wisps." 

They burst into loud laughter at this command, ridiculed 
the boatman, and became more troublesome than ever. But 
he bore their annoyance patiently, and they soon reached the 
opposite bank of the river. 

" Here is something for your trouble," said the passen- 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 361 

gers, shaking themselves, when a number of glittering gold 
pieces fell into the boat. " What are you doing? " cried the 
old man : " some misfortune will happen should a single piece 
of gold fall into the water. The river, which has a strong 
antipathy to gold, would become fearfully agitated, and swal- 
low both me and my boat. Who can say even what might 
happen to yourselves? I pray you take back your gold." 

' ' We can take nothing back which we have once shaken 
from our persons," answered one of them. 

" Then, I shall be compelled," replied the old boatman, as 
he stooped, and collected the gold in his cap, " to take it to 
the shore and bury it." 

The Will-o'-the-wisps had in the mean time leaped out of 
the boat, upon which the old man cried, "Pay me my fare." 

"The man who refuses gold must work for nothing," 
answered the Will-o'-the-wisps. 

"My payment must consist of fruits of the earth," re- 
joined the Ferryman. 

4 4 Fruits of the earth ? We despise them : they are not 
food for us." 

"But you shall not depart," replied the Ferryman, " till 
you have given me three cauliflowers, three artichokes, and 
three large onions." 

The Will-o'-the-wisps were in the act of running away, 
with a laugh, when they felt themselves in some inexplicable 
manner fixed to the earth : they had never experienced so 
strange a sensation. They then promised to pay the demand 
without delay, upon which the Ferryman released them, and 
instantly pushed off with his boat. 

He was already far awa}-, when they called after him, 
"Old man! listen: we have forgotten something impor- 
tant;" but he heard them not, and continued his course. 
When he had reached a point lower down, on the same side 
of the river, he came to some rocks which the water was 
unable to reach, and proceeded to bury the dangerous gold. 
Observing a deep cleft which opened between two rocks, he 
threw the gold into it, and returned to his dwelling. This 
cleft was inhabited by a beautiful green Dragon, who was 
awakened from her sleep by the sound of the falling money. 
At the very first appearance of the glittering pieces, she 
devoured them greedily, then searched about carefully in 
hopes of finding such other coins as might have fallen acci- 
dentally amongst the briers, or between the fissures of the 
rocks. 



362 THE RECREATIONS OF 

The Dragon immediately felt overpowered with the most 
delightful sensations, and perceived with joy that she became 
suddenly shining and transparent. She had been long aware 
that this change was possible ; but, entertaining some doubt 
whether the brilliance would continue, she felt impelled by 
curiosity to leave her dwelling, and ascertain, if possible, to 
whom she was indebted for the beautiful gold. She found 
no one ; but she became lost in admiration of herself, and 
of the brilliant light which illumined her path through the 
thick underwood, and shed its rays over the surrounding 
green. The leaves of the trees glittered like emeralds, and 
the flowers shone with glorious hues. In vain did she pene- 
trate the solitary wilderness ; but hope dawned when she 
reached the plains, and observed at a distance a light resem- 
bling her own. "Have I at last discovered my fellow?" 
she exclaimed, and hastened to the spot. She found no 
obstacle from bog or morass ; for though the dry meadow 
and the high rock were her dearest habitations, and though 
she loved to feed upon the spicy root, and to quench her 
thirst with the costal dew, and with fresh water from the 
spring, yet, for the sake of her beloved gold and of her glo- 
rious light, she was willing to encounter every privation. 

Wearied and exhausted, she reached at leugth the confines 
of a wide morass, where our two Will-o'-the-wisps were 
amusing themselves in playing fantastic antics. She made 
towards them, and, saluting them, expressed her delight at 
being able to claim relationship with such charming person- 
ages The lights played around her, skipped from side to 
side, and laughed about in their own peculiar fashion. 
" Dear aunt ! " the}" exclaimed, " what does it signify, even 
though you are of horizontal form ? we are related at least 
through brilliancy. But look how well a tall, slender figure 
becomes us gentry of the vertical shape ; " and, so saying, 
both the lights compressed their breadth together, and shot 
up into a thin and pointed line. " Do not be offended, dear 
friend," they continued; u but what family can boast of a 
privilege like ours? Since the first Will-o'-the-wisp was 
created, none of our race have ever been obliged to sit 
down or to take repose." 

But all this time the feelings of the Dragon in the presence 
of her relations were any thing but pleasant : for, exalt her 
head as high as she would, she was compelled to stoop to 
earth again when she wished to advance ; and, though she 
was proud of the brilliancy which she shed round her own 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. . 363 

dark abode, she felt her light gradually diminish in the pres 
ence of her relatives, and began to fear that it might finally 
be extinguished. 

In her perplexity she hastily inquired whether the gentle- 
men could inform her whence the shining gold had come, 
which had lately fallen into the cleft of the rocks hard by ; as 
in her opinion it was a precious shower from heaven. The 
Will-o'-the-wisps immediately shook themselves (at the same 
time laughing loudly), and a deluge of gold pieces at once 
flowed around. The Dragon devoured them greedily. " We 
hope you like them, dear aunt," shouted the shining Will-o'- 
the-wisps ; "we can supply you with any quantity:" and 
they shook themselves with such copious effect, that the 
Dragon found it difficult to swallow the bright dainties with 
sufficient speed. Her brilliancy increased as the gold disap- 
peared, till at length she shone with inconceivable radiance ; 
while in the same proportion the Will-o'-the-wisps grew thin 
and tapering, without, however, losing the smallest iota of 
their cheerful humor. 

" I am under eternal obligations to you," said the Dragon, 
pausing to breathe from her voracious meal: " ask of me 
what you please ; I will give you any thing you de- 
mand." 

" A bargain ! " answered the Will-o'-the-wisp : " tell us, 
then, where the beautiful Lily dwells. Lead us to her palace 
and gardens without delay : we die of impatience to cast 
ourselves at her feet." 

" You ask a favor," replied the Dragon, with a deep sigh, 
"which it is not in my power so quickly to bestow. The 
beautiful Lily lives, unfortunately, on the opposite bank of 
the river. We cannot cross over on this stormy night." 

"Cruel river, which separates us from the object of our 
desires ! But cannot we call back the old Ferryman? " said 
they. 

" Your wish is vain," answered the Dragon : " for, even 
were you to meet him on this bank, he would refuse to take 
you ; as, though he can convey passengers to this side of the 
stream, he can carry nc one back." 

"Bad news, indeed! but are there no other means of 
crossing the river ? ' ' 

"There are, but not at this moment: I myself can tak« 
you over at mid-day." 

"That is an hour," replied the Will-o'-the-wisps, " when 
we do not usually travel." 



364 THE RECREATIONS OF 

" Then, you had better postpone your intention till evening, 
when you may cross in the Giant's shadow." 

" How is that managed? " they inquired. 

" The Giant," replied the Dragon, " who lives hard by, is 
powerless with his body : his hands are incapable of raising 
even a straw, his shoulders can bear no burden ; but his 
shadow accomplishes all for him. For this reason he is 
most powerful at sunrise and at sunset. At the hour of 
evening the Giant will approach the river softly ; and, if you 
place yourself upon his shadow, it will carry you over. 
Meet me at mid-day, at the corner of the wood, where the 
trees hang over the river, when I myself will take you across, 
and introduce you to the beautiful Lily. Should you, how- 
ever, shrink from the noonday heat, your onlj' alternative 
is to apply to the Giant, when evening casts its shadows 
around ; and he will no doubt prove obliging." 

With a graceful salutation the young gentlemen took their 
leave ; and the Dragon rejoiced at their departure, partly that 
she might indulge her feelings of pleasure at her own light, 
and partly that she might satisfy a curiosity by which she 
had long been tormented. 

In the clefts of the rocks where she dwelt, she had lately 
made a wonderful discovery ; for, although she had been 
obliged to crawl through these chasms in darkness, she had 
learned to distinguish every object by feeling. The produc- 
tions of Nature, which she was accustomed everywhere to 
encounter, were all of an irregular kind. At one time she 
wound her way amongst the points of enormous ciystals, at 
another she was for a moment impeded by the veins of solid 
silver, and many were the precious stones which her light 
discovered to her. But, to her great astonishment, she had 
encountered in a rock, which was securely closed on all sides, 
objects which betrayed the plastic hand of man. Smooth 
walls, which she was unable to ascend ; sharp, regular angles, 
tapering columns ; and, what was even more wonderful, 
human figures, round which she had often entwined herself, 
and which appeared to her to be formed of brass or of pol- 
ished marble. She was now anxious to behold all these ob- 
jects with her eyes, and to confirm, b}' her own observation, 
what she had hitherto but suspected. She now thought 
herself capable of illumining with her own light these won- 
derful subterranean caverns, and indulged the hope of 
becoming thoroughly acquainted with these astonishing 
mysteries. She delayed not, and quickly found the opening 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 365 

through which she was accustomed to penetrate into the 
sanctuary. 

Arrived at the place, she looked round with wonder ; and 
though her brilliancy was unable to light the entire cavern, 
yet many of the objects were sufficiently distinct. With 
astonishment and awe, she raised her eyes to an illumined 
niche, in which stood the statue of a venerable Kiug, of pure 
gold. In size the statue was colossal, but the figure was 
rather that of a little than of a great man. His well-turned 
limbs were covered with a simple robe, and his head was 
encircled by an oaken garland. 

Scarcely had the Dragon beheld this venerable form, when 
the King found utterance, and said, "How comest thou 
hither?" 

"Through the cleft," answered the Dragon, u in which 
the gold abides." 

" What is nobler than gold? " asked the King. 

" Light," replied the Dragon. 

"And what is more vivid than light?" continued the 
Monarch. 

" Speech," said the Serpent. 

During this conversation the Dragon had looked stealthily 
around, and observed another noble statue in an adjoining 
niche. A silver King sat there enthroned, of figure tall and 
slender : his limbs were enveloped in an embroidered mantle ; 
his crown and sceptre were adorned with, precious stones ; 
his countenance wore the serene dignity of pride ; and he 
seemed about to speak, when a dark vein, which ran through 
the marble of the wall, suddenly became brilliant, and cast a 
soft light through the whole temple. This light discovered 
a third King, whose mighty form was cast in brass : he leaned 
upon a massive club, his head was crowned with laurels ; and 
his proportions resembled a rock rather than a human being. 

The Dragon felt a desire to approach a fourth King, who 
stood before her at a distance ; but the wall suddenly opened, 
the illumined vein flashed like lightning, and became as sud- 
denly extinguished. 

A man of middle stature now approached. He was clad 
in the garb of a peasant : in his hand he bore a lamp, the 
flame of which it was delightful to behold, and which light- 
ened the entire dwelling, without leaving the trace of a 
shadow. 

" Why dost thou come, since we have already light?" 
asked the Golden King. 



866 THE RECREATIONS OF 

" You know that I can shed no ray on what is dark,'" 
replied the old man. 

' k Will my kingdom end ? ' ' inquired the Silver Monarch. 

" Late or never," answered the other. 

The Brazen King then asked, with voice of thunder, 
"When shall I arise?" 

" Soon," was the reply. 

" With whom shall I be united ? " continued the former. 

" With thine elder brother," answered the latter. 

" And what will become of the youngest? " 

" He will repose." 

" I am not weary," interrupted the fourth King, with a 
deep but faltering voice. 

During this conversation the Dragon had wound her way 
softly through the temple, surveyed every thing which it con- 
tained, and approached the niche in which the fourth King 
stood. He leaned against a pillar, and his handsome coun- 
tenance bore traces of melancholy. It was difficult to dis- 
tinguish the metal of which the statue was composed. It 
resembled a mixture of the three metals of which his brothers 
were formed, but it seemed as if the materials had not 
thoroughly blended ; as the veins of gold and silver crossed 
each other irregularly through the brazen mass, and destroyed 
the effect of the whole. 

The Golden King now asked, "How many secrets dost 
thou know ? ' ' 

" Three," was the reply. 

" And which is the most important? " inquired the Silver 
King. 

" The revealed," answered the old man. 

' ' Wilt thou explain it to us ? " asked the Brazen King. 

" When I have learned the fourth," was the response. 

" I care not," murmured he of the strange compound. 

" I know the fourth," interrupted the Dragon, approach- 
ing the old man, and whispering in his ear. 

" The time is come," exclaimed the latter, with tremendous 
voice. The sounds echoed through the temple ; the statues 
rang again : and in the same instant the old man disappeared 
towards the west, and the Dragon towards the east ; and 
both pierced instantly through the impediments of the rock. 

Every passage through which the old man bent his course 
became immediately filled with gold ; for the lamp which he 
carried possessed the wonderful property of converting stones 
into gold, wood into silver, and dead animals into jewels. 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 367 

But, in order to produce this effect, it was necessary that no 
other light should be near. In the presence of another 
light the lamp merely emitted a soft illumination, which, 
however, gave joy to every living thing. 

The old man returned to his hut on the brow of the hill, 
and found his wife in the greatest sorrow. She was seated 
at the fire, her eyes filled with tears ; and she refused all 
consolation. 

"What a misfortune, " she exclaimed, " that I allowed 
you to leave home to-day ! " 

4 ' What has happened ? ' ' answered the old man, very quietly 

" You were scarcely gone," replied she with sobs, " before 
two rude travellers came to the door : unfortunately I admit- 
ted them ; as they seemed good, worthy people. They were 
attired like flames, and might have passed for Will-o'-the- 
wisps ; but they had scarcely entered the house before they 
commenced their flatteries, and became at length so impor- 
tunate that I blush to recollect their conduct." 

" Well," said the old man, smiling, " the gentlemen were 
only amusing themselves ; and, at your age, you should have 
considered it as the display of ordinary politeness." 

" My age ! " rejoined the old woman. " Will you forever 
remind me of my age? how old am I, then? And ordinary 
politeness ! But I can tell you something : look round at 
the walls of our hut : you will now be able to see the old 
stones, which have been concealed for more than a hundred 
years. These visitors extracted all the gold more quickly 
than I can tell you, and they assured me that it was of capital 
flavor. When they had completely cleared the walls, they 
grew cheerful ; and, in a few minutes, their persons became 
tall, broad, and shining. They thereupon again commenced 
their tricks, and repeated their flatteries, calling me a queen. 
They shook themselves, and immediately a profusion of gold 
pieces fell on all sides. You may see some of them still 
glittering on the floor ; but a calamity soon occurred. Our 
dog Mops swallowed some of them ; and. see ! he lies dead in 
the chimney-corner. Poor animal ! his death afflicts me. I 
did not observe it till they had departed, otherwise I should 
not have promised to pay the Ferryman the debt they owed 
him." 

" How much do they owe? " inquired the old man. 

"Three cauliflowers," answered his wife, "three arti- 
chokes, and three onions. I have promised to take them to 
the river at break of day." 



368 THE RECREATIONS OF 

44 You had better oblige them," said the old man,'" and 
they may perhaps serve us in time of need." 

" I know not if the}' will keep their word," said she, 4i but 
they promised and vowed to serve us." 

The fire had, in the mean time, died away ; but the old man 
covered the cinders with ashes, put away the shining gold 
pieces, and lighted his lamp afresh. In the glorious illumi- 
nation the walls became- covered with gold, and Mops was 
transformed into the most beautiful onyx that was ever be- 
held. The variety of color which glittered through the costly 
gem produced a splendid effect. 

" Take your basket," said the old man, " and place the 
onyx in it. Then collect the three cauliflowers, the three 
artichokes, and the three onions, lay them together, and 
carry them to the river. The Dragon will bear you across at 
mid-day : then visit the beautiful Lily ; her touch will give 
life to the onyx, as her touch gives death to every living 
thing ; a-nd it will be to her an affectionate friend. Tell her 
not to mourn ; that her deliverance is nigh ; that she must 
consider a great misfortune as her greatest blessing, for the 
time is come." 

The old woman prepared her basket, and set forth at break 
of day. The rising sun shone brightly over the river, which 
gleamed in the far distance. The old woman journeyed 
slowly on, for the weight of the basket oppressed her ; but it 
did not arise from the onyx. Nothing lifeless proved a 
burden ; for, when the basket contained dead things, it rose 
aioft, and floated over her head. But a fresh vegetable, or 
the smallest living creature, induced fatigue. She had toiled 
along for some distance, when she started, and suddenly stood 
still ; for she had nearly placed her foot upon the shadow of 
the Giant, which was advancing towards her from the plain. 
Her eye now perceived his monstrous bulk : he had just 
bathed in the river, and was coming out of the water. She 
knew not how to avoid him. He saw her, saluted her jest- 
ingly, and thrust the hand of his shadow into her basket. 
With dexterity he stole a cauliflower, an artichoke, and an 
onion, and raised them to his mouth. He then proceeded on 
his course up the stream, and left the woman alone. 

She considered whether it would not be better to return, and 
supplj the missing vegetables from her own garden ; and, 
lost in these reflections, she went on her way until she ar- 
rived at the bank of the river. She sat down, and awaited 
for a long time the arrival of the Ferryman. He appeared 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 369 

at length, having in his boat a traveller whose air was mys- 
terious. A handsome youth, of noble aspect, stepped on 
shore. 

" What have you brought with you? " said the old man. 

" The vegetables," replied the woman, " which the Will* 
o'-the-wisps owe you;" pointing to the contents of her 
basket. 

But when he found that there were but two of each kind, 
he became angry, and refused to take them. 

The woman implored him to relent, assuring him that she 
could not then return home ; as she had found her burden 
heavy, and she had still a long way to go. But he was obsti- 
nate, maintaining that the decision did not depend upon him. 

"I am obliged to collect my gains for nine hours," said 
he, " and I can keep nothing for myself till I have paid a 
third part to the river." 

At length, after much contention, he told her there was 
still a remedy. 

" If you give security to the river, and acknowledge your 
debt, I will take the six articles ; though such a course is not 
devoid of danger. 

" But, if I keep my word, I incur no risk," she said ear- 
nestly. 

" Not the least," he replied. " Thrust your hand into the 
river, and promise that within four and twenty hours you will 
pay the debt." 

The old woman complied, but shuddered as she observed 
that her hand, on drawing it out of the water, had become 
as black as a coal. She scolded angrily ; exclaiming that 
her hands had always been most beautiful, and that, not- 
withstanding her hard work, she had ever kept them white 
and delicate. She gazed at her hand with the greatest alarm, 
and exclaimed, "This is still worse : it has shrunk, and is 
already much smaller than the other ! " 

"It only appears so now," said the Ferryman; "but, if 
you break your word, it will be so in reality. Your hand will 
in that case grow smaller, and finally disappear ; though you 
will still preserve the use of it." 

" I would rather," she replied, " lose it altogether, and that 
my misfortune should be concealed. But no matter, I will 
keep my word, to escape this black disgrace, and avoid so 
much auxiety." Whereupon she took her basket, which rose 
aloft, and floated freely over her head. She hastened after 
the youth, who was walking thoughtfully along the bank. 



370 THE RECREATIONS OF 

His noble figure and peculiar attire had made a deep impres- 
sion upon her mind. 

His breast was covered with a shining cuirass, whose trans- 
parency permitted the motions of his graceful form to be 
seen. From his shoulders hung a purple mantle, and his au- 
burn locks waved in beautiful curls round his uncovered head. 
His noble countenance and his well-turned feet were exposed 
to the burning rays of the sun. Thus did he journey pa- 
tiently over the hot sand, which, "true to one sorrow, he 
trod without feeling." 

The garrulous old woman sought to engage him in conver- 
sation ; but he heeded her not, or answered briefly, until, not- 
withstanding his beauty, she became weary, and took leave of 
him, saying, "You are too slow for me, sir; and I cannot 
lose my time, as I am anxious to cross the river, with tha 
assistance of the Green Dragon, and to present the beautiful 
Lily with my husband's handsome present." So saying, she 
left him speedily, upon which the youth took heart, and fol- 
lowed her without delay. 

* ' You are going to the beautiful Lily ! " he exclaimed : 
"if so, our way lies together. What present are you taking 
her?" 

"Sir," answered the woman, "it is not fair that you 
should so earnestly inquire after my secrets, when you paid so 
little attention to my questions. But, if you will relate your 
history to me, I will tell }t>u all about my present." 

They made the bargain : the woman told her story, includ- 
ing the account of the dog, and allowed him to view the 
beautiful onyx. 

He lifted the beautiful precious stone from the basket, and 
took Mops, who seemed to slumber softly, in his arms. 

1 ' Fortunate animal ! " he exclaimed : ' ' you will be touched 
by her soft hands, and restored to life, in place of fleeing 
from her contact, like all other living things, to escape an 
evil doom. But, alas! what words are these? Is it not a 
sadder and more fearful fate to be annihilated b}' her pres- 
ence than to die by her hand? Behold me, thus young, what 
a melancholy destiny is mine ! This armor, which I have 
borne with glorj- in the battle-broil ; this purple, which I have 
earned by the wisdom of my governmont, — have been con- 
verted by Fate, the one 4 into an unceasing burden, the other 
into an empty honor. Crown, sceptre, and sword are worth- 
less. I am now as naked and destitute as every other son of 
clay. For such is the spell of her beautiful blue eyes, that 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 371 

they waste the vigor of every living creature ; and those 
whom the contact of her hand does not destroy are reduced 
to the condition of breathing shadows." 

Thus he lamented long, but without satisfying the curiosity 
of the old woman, who sought information respecting both 
his mental and his bodily sufferings. She learned neither 
the name of his father nor his kingdom. He stroked the 
rigid Mops, to whom the beams of the sun and the caresses 
of the youth had imparted warmth. He inquired earnestly 
about the man with the lamp, about the effect of the myste- 
rious light, and seemed to expect thence great relief from his 
deep sorrow. 

So discoursing, they observed at a distance the majestic 
arch of the bridge, which stretched from one bank of the 
river to the other, and shone splendidly in the beams of the 
sun. Both were astonished at the sight, as they had never 
before seen it so resplendent. 

" What ! " cried the Prince, " was it not sufficiently beau- 
tiful before, with its decorations of jasper and opal? Can 
we now dare to pass over it, constructed as it is of emerald 
and chrysolite of varied beauty? " 

Neither had any idea of the change which the Dragon 
had undergone ; for in truth it was the Dragon, whose cus- 
tom it was at mid-day to arch her form across the stream, 
and assume the appearance of a beauteous bridge, which 
travellers crossed with silent reverence. 

Scarcely had they reached the opposite bank, when the 
bridge began to sway from side to side, and gradually sank 
to the level of the water ; while the Green Dragon assumed 
her accustomed shape, and followed the travellers to the 
shore. The latter thanked her for her condescension in 
allowing them a passage across the stream ; observing, at the 
same time, that there were evidently more persons present 
than were actually visible. They heard a light whispering, 
which the Dragon answered with a similar sound. They 
listened, and heard the following words: "We will first 
make our observations unperceived in the park of the beau- 
tiful Lily, and look for you, when the shadows of evening 
fall, to introduce us to such perfect beauty. You will find us 
on the bank of the great lake." 

"Agreed," answered the Dragon; and a hissing sound 
died away in the air. 

Our three travellers further consulted with what regard to 
precedence they should appear before the beautiful Lily ; 



372 THE RECREATIONS OF 

for, let her visitors be never so numerous, they must enter 
and depart singly if they wished to escape bittei suffer- 
ing. 

The woman, carrying in the basket the transformed dog, 
came first to the garden, and sought an interview with her 
benefactress. She was easily found, as she was then sing- 
ing to the accompaniment of her harp. The sweet tones 
showed themselves first in the form of circles upon the 
bosom of the calm lake ; and then, like a soft breeze, they 
imparted motion to the grass and to the tremulous leaves. 
She was seated in a secluded nook beneath the shade of 
trees, and at the first glance enchanted the eyes, the ear, 
and the heart of the old woman, who advanced towards her 
with rapture, and protested that since their last meeting she 
had become more beautiful than ever. Even from a distance 
she saluted the charming maiden in these words : ' ' What 
joy to be in your presence ! What a heaven surrounds you ! 
What a spell proceeds from your lyre, which, encircled by 
your soft arms, and influenced by the pressure of your 
gentle bosom and slender fingers, utters such entrancing 
melody ! Thrice happy the blessed youth who could claim 
so great a favor ! ' ' 

So saying, she approached nearer. The beautiful Lily 
raised her eyes, let her hands drop, and said, u Do not 
distress me with your untimely praise : it makes me feel 
even more unhappy. And see ! here is my beautiful canary 
dead at my feet, which used to accompany my songs so 
sweetly : he was accustomed to sit upon my harp, and was 
carefully instructed to avoid nvy touch. This morning, when, 
refreshed by sleep, I tuned a pleasant melody, the little war- 
bler sang with increased harmony, when suddenly a hawk 
soared above us. My little bird sought refuge in my bosom, 
and at that instant I felt the last gasp of his expiring 
breath. It is true that the hawk, struck by my instanta- 
neous glance, fell lifeless into the stream ; but what avails 
this penalty to me? — my darling is dead, and his grave 
will but add to the number of the weeping willows in my 
garden." 

"Take courage, beautiful Lily," interrupted the old woman, 
whilst at the same moment she wiped away a tear which the 
narration of the sorrowful maiden had brought to her eye, — 
"take courage, and learn from my experience to moderate 
your grief. Great misfortune is often the harbinger of 
intense joy. For the time approaches: but in truth," con- 



THE CxERMAN EMIGRANTS. 373 

tinned she, ik ' the web of life is of a mingled yarn.' See 
my hand, how black it has grown ; and, In truth, it has 
become much diminished in size : I must be speedy, before 
it be reduced to nothing. Why did I promise favors to the 
Will-o'-the-wisps, or meet the Giant, or dip my hand into 
the river? Can you oblige me with a cauliflower, an arti- 
choke, or an onion? I shall take them to the river, and 
then my hand will become so white that it will almost equal 
the lustre of your own." 

"Cauliflowers and onions abound, but artichokes cannot 
be procured. My garden produces neither flowers nor fruit; 
but every twig I plant upon the grave of any thing I love 
bursts into leaf at once, and grows a goodly tree. Thus, 
beneath my eye, alas! have grown these clustering trees 
and copses. These tall pines, these shadowing cypresses, 
these mighty oaks, these overhanging beeches, were once 
small twigs planted by my hand, as sad memorials, in an 
ungenial soil." 

The old woman paid but little attention to this speech, but 
was employed in watching her hand, which in the presence 
of the beautiful Lily became every instant of a darker hue, 
and grew gradually less. She was about to take her basket 
and depart, when she felt that she had forgotten the most 
important of her duties. She took the transformed dog in 
her arms, and laid him upon the grass, not far from the 
beautiful Lily. " My husband," she said, "sends you this 
present. You know that your touch can impart life to this 
precious stone. The good and faithful animal will be a joy 
to you, and the grief his loss causes me will be alleviated by 
the thought that he is yours." 

The beautiful Lily looked at the pretty creature with de- 
light, and rapture beamed from her eyes. "Many things 
combine to inspire me with hope ; but, alas ! is it not a delus- 
ion of our nature to expect that joy is near when grief is 
at the worst ? ' ' 

"Ah! what avail these omens all so fair? 
My sweet bird's death, my friend's hands blackly dyed, 
And Mops transformed into a jewel rare, 
Sent by the Lamp our faltering steps to guide. 

Far from mankind and every joy I prize, 
To grief and sorrow I am still allied: 
When from the river will the temple rise ? 
When will the bridge span it from side to side ?" 



374 THE RECREATIONS OF 

The old woman waited witli impatience for the conclusion 
of the song, which the beautiful Lily had accompanied with 
her harp, entrancing the ears of every listener. She was 
about to say farewell, when the arrival of the Dragon com- 
pelled her to remain. She had heard the last words of the 
song, and on this account spoke words of encouragement 
to the beautiful Lily. ''The prophec} 7 of the bridge is ful- 
filled ! " she exclaimed : " this good woman will bear witness 
how splendidly the arch now appears. Formerly of untrans- 
parent jasper, which only reflected the light upon the sides, 
it is now converted into precious jewels of transparent hue. 
No beryl is so bright, and no emerald so splendid." 

" I congratulate you thereupon," said the Lily, " but par- 
don me if I doubt whether the prediction is fulfilled. Only 
foot-passengers can as yet cross the arch of your bridge; 
and it has been foretold that horses and carriages, travellers 
of all descriptions, shall pass and repass in mingled multi- 
tudes. Is prediction silent with respect to the mighty pillars 
which are to ascend from the river? " 

The old woman, whose eyes were fixed immovably upon 
her hand, interrupted this speech, and bade farewell. 

"Wait for one moment," said the beautiful Lily, "and 
take my poor canary-bird with you. Implore the Lamp to 
convert him into a topaz ; and I will then re-animate him 
with my touch, and he and your good Mops will then be my 
greatest consolation. But make what speed you can ; for 
with suuset decay will have commenced its withering influ- 
ence, marring the beauty of its delicate form." 

The old woman enveloped the little corpse in some soft 
young leaves, placed it in the basket, and hastened from the 
spot. 

" Notwithstanding what you say," continued the Dragon, 
resuming the interrupted conversation, " the temple is built." 

" But it does not yet stand upon the river," replied the 
beautiful Lily. 

" It rests still in the bowels of the earth," continued the 
Dragon. " I have seen the Kings, and spoken to them." 

" And when will they awake? " inquired the Lily. 

The Dragon answered, " I heard the mighty voice resound 
through the temple, announcing that the hour was come." 

A ray of joy beamed from the countenance of the beauti- 
ful Lily as she exclaimed, " Do I hear those words for the 
second time to-day? When will the hour arrive in which I 
shall hear them for the third time? " 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 375 

She rose, and immediately a beautiful maiden came from 
the wood, and relieved her of her harp. She was followed 
by another, who took the ivory chair upon which the beauti- 
ful Lily had been seated, folded it together, and carried it 
away, together with the silver-tissued cushion. The third 
maiden, who bore in her hand a fan inlaid with pearls, ap- 
proached to tender her services if they should be needed. 
These three maidens were lovely beyond description, though 
they were compelled to acknowledge that their charms fell 
far short of those of their beautiful mistress. 

The beautiful Lily had, in the mean time, surveyed the 
marvellous Mops with a look of pleasure. She leaned over 
him, and touched him. He instantly leaped up, looked round 
joyously, bounded with delight, hastened to his benefactress, 
and caressed her tenderly. She took him in her arms, and 
pressed him to her bosom. "Cold though thou art," she 
said, " and endued with only half a life, yet art thou wel- 
come to me. I will love thee fondly, play with thee sportively, 
kiss thee softly, and press thee to my heart." She let him 
go a little from her, called him back, chased him away again, 
and played with him so joyously and innoceutly, that no one 
could help sympathizing in her delight and taking part in her 
pleasure, as they had before shared her sorrow and her woe. 

But this happiness and this pleasant pastime were inter- 
rupted by the arrival of the melancholy youth. His walk 
and appearance were as we have before described ; but he 
seemed overcome by the heat of the day, and the presence 
of his beloved had rendered him perceptibly paler. He bore 
the hawk upon his wrist, where it sat with drooping wing as 
tranquil as a dove. 

" It is not well," exclaimed the Lily, " that you should vex 
my eyes with that odious bird, which has onty this day mur- 
dered my little favorite." 

"Blame not the luckless bird," exclaimed the youth: 
" rather condemn yourself and fate, and let me find an asso- 
ciate in this companion of my grief." 

Mops, in the mean time, was incessant in his caresses ; and 
the Lily responded to his affection with the most gentle tokens 
of love. She clapped her hands to drive him away, and then 
sportively pursued to win him back. She caught him in her 
arms as he tried to escape, and chased him from her when he 
sought to nestle in her lap. The youth looked on in silence 
and in sorrow ; but when at length she took him in her arms, 
and pressed him to her snowy breast, and kissed him with 



376 THE RECREATIONS OF 

her heavenly lips, he lost all patience, and exclaimed in the 
depth of his despair, "And must I, whom a sad destiny 
compels to live in your presence, and yet to be separated 
from you, perhaps forever, — must I, who for you have 
forfeited every thing, even my own being, — must I look on 
and behold this ' defect of nature ' gain your notice, win 
your love, and enjoy the paradise of your embrace ? Must I 
continue to wander and measure my solitary way along the 
banks of this stream ? No ! a spark of my former spirit still 
burns within my bosom. Oh that it would for the last 
time mount into a flame ! If stones may repose within 
your bosom, then let me be converted to a stone ; and, 
if your touch can kill, I am content to receive my death 
at your hands." 

He became violently excited ; the hawk flew from his 
wrist ; he rushed towards the beautiful Lily ; she extended 
her arms to forbid his approach, and touched him undesign- 
edly. His consciousness immediately forsook him, and with 
dismay she felt the beautiful burden lean for support upon 
her breast. She started back with a scream, and the fair 
youth sank lifeless from her arms to the earth. 

The deed was done. The sweet Lily stood motionless, and 
gazed intently on the breathless corpse. Her heart ceased 
to beat, and her eyes were bedewed with tears. In vain did 
Mops seek to win her attention : the whole world had died 
out with her lost friend. Her dumb despair sought no help, 
for help was now in vain. 

But the Dragon became immediately more active. Her 
mind seemed occupied with thoughts of rescue ; and, in truth, 
her mysterious movements prevented the immediate conse- 
quence of this dire misfortune. She wound her serpentine 
form in a wide circle round the spot where the body lay, 
seized the end of her tail between her teeth, and remained 
motionless. 

In a few moments one of the servants of the beautiful Lily 
approached, carrying the ivory chair, and with friendly en- 
treaties compelled her mistress to be seated. Then came a 
second, bearing a flame-colored veil, with which she rather 
adorned than covered the head of the Lily. A third maiden 
offered her the harp ; and scarcely had she struck the chords, 
and awakened their delicious tones, when the first maiden 
returned, having in her hands a circular mirror of lustrous 
brightness, placed herself opposite the Lily, intercepted her 
looks, and reflected the most enchanting countenance which 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 377 

nature could fashion. Her sorrow added lustre to her beauty, 
the veil heightened her charms, the harp lent her a new 
grace ; and, though it was impossible not to hope that her sad 
fate might soon undergo a change, one could almost wish 
that that lovely and enchanting vision might last for- 
ever. 

Silently gazing upon the mirror, she drew melting tones of 
music from her harp ; but her sorrow appeared to increase, 
and the chords responded to her melancholy mood. Once 
or twice she opened her lips to sing, but her voice refused 
utterance ; whereupon her grief found refuge in tears. Her 
two attendants supported her in their arms, and the harp fell 
from her hands ; but the watchful attention of her handmaid 
caught it, and laid it aside. 

4 c Who will fetch the man with the lamp ? ' ' whispered the 
Dragon in low but audible voice. The maidens looked at 
each other, and the Lily's tears fell faster. 

At this instant the old woman with the basket returned 
breathless with agitation. ' ' I am lost and crippled for life ! ' ' 
she exclaimed. " Look ! my hand is nearly withered. 
Neither the Ferryman nor the Giant would set me across the 
river, because I am indebted to the stream. In vain did I 
tempt them with a hundred cauliflowers and a hundred 
onions : they insist upon the stipulated three, and not an 
artichoke can be found in this neighborhood." 

" Forget your distress," said the Dragon, " and give your 
assistance here : perhaps you will be relieved at the same 
time. Hasten, and find out the Will-o'-the-wisps ; for, though 
you cannot see them by daylight, you may, perhaps, hear 
their laughter and their motions. If you make good speed, 
the Giant may yet transport you across the river, and you 
may find the man with the lamp and send him hither." 

The old woman made as much haste as possible, and the 
Dragon showed as much impatience for her return as the Lily. 
But, sad to say, the golden rays of the setting sun were shed- 
ding their last beams upon the highest tops of the trees, and 
lengthening the mountain shadows over lake and meadow. 
The motions of the Dragon showed increased impatience, and 
the Lily was dissolved in tears. 

In this moment of distress the Dragon looked anxiously 
round : she feared every instant that the sun would set, and 
that decay would penetrate within the magic circle, and exert 
its fell influence upon the corpse of the beautiful youth. She 
looked into the heavens, and caught sight of the purplewings 



378 THE RECREATIONS OF 

and breast of the hawk, which were illumined b}- the last 
rays of the sun. Her restlessness betrayed her joy at the 
good omen ; and she was not deceived, for instantly after- 
.wards she saw the man with the lamp sliding across the lake 
as if he had skates on his feet. 

The Dragon did not alter her position ; but the Lily, rising 
from her seat, exclaimed, " What good spirit has sent you 
thus opportunely when you are so much longed for and re- 
quired ? ' ' 

" The Spirit of my Lamp impels me," replied the old man, 
" and the hawk conducts me hither. The lamp flickers when 
I am needed ; and I immediately look to the heavens for a 
sign, when some bird or meteor points the way I should go. 
Be tranquil, beautiful maiden : I know not if I can help you ; 
one alone can do but little, but he can avail who in the proper 
hour unites his strength with others. We must wait and 
hope." Then turning to the Dragon, he said, " Keep your 
circle closed;" and, seating himself upon a hillock at his 
side, he shed a light upon the corpse of the youth. " Now 
bring the little canary-bird," he continued, " and lay it also 
withiu the circle." 

The maiden took the little creature from the basket, and 
followed the directions of the old man. 

The sun had set in the mean time ; and, as the shades of 
evening closed around, not only the Dragon and the Lamp 
cast their customary light, but the veil of the Lily was illu- 
mined with a soft brilliancy, and caused her pale cheeks and 
her white robe to beam like the dawn of morning, and 
clothed her with inexpressible grace. They gazed at each 
other with silent emotions : anxiety and sorrow were softened 
by hope of approaching happiness. 

To the delight of all, the old woman appeared with the 
lively Will-o'-the-wisps, who must have led a prodigal life of 
late, for they looked wonderfully thin, but behaved all the 
more politely to the princess and the other young ladies. 
With an air of confidence, and much force of expression, 
they discoursed upon ordinary topics, and were much struck 
by the charm which the shining veil shed over the beautiful 
Lily and her companions. The young ladies cast down their 
eyes with modest looks, and their beauty was heightened by 
the praise it called forth. Every one was happy and con- 
tented, not excepting even the old woman. Notwithstand- 
ing the assurance of her husband that her hand would not 
continue to wither whilst the Lamp shone upon it, she con- 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 379 

tiimed to assert, that, if things went on thus, it would dis- 
appear entirely before midnight. 

The old man with the lamp had listened attentively to the 
speech of the Will-o'-the-wisps, and was charmed to observe 
that the beautiful Lily was pleased and flattered with their 
compliments. Midnight had actually come before they were 
aware. The old man looked up to the stars, and spoke thus : 
" We are met at a fortunate hour: let each fulfil his office, 
let each discharge his duty ; and a general happiness will alle- 
viate one individual trouble, as a universal sorrow destroys 
particular joys." 

After these observations a mysterious murmur arose ; for 
every one present spoke for himself, and mentioned what he 
had to do : the three maidens alone were silent. One had 
fallen asleep near the harp, the other beside the fan, and the 
third leaning against the ivory chair : and no one could blame 
them ; for, in truth, it was late. The Will-o'-the-wisps, 
after paying some trivial compliments to the other ladies, 
including even the attendants, attached themselves finally to 
the Lily, by whose beauty they were attracted. 

u Take the mirror," said the old man to the hawk, " and 
illumine the fair sleepers with the first beams of the sun, and 
rouse them from their slumbers by the light reflected from 
heaven." 

The Dragon now began to move : she broke up the circle, 
and in long windings moved slowly to the river. The Will- 
o'-the-wisps followed her in solemn procession, and they 
might have been mistaken for the most serious personages. 
The old woman and her husband took up the basket, the soft 
light of which had hitherto been scarcely observed ; but it 
now became clearer and more brilliant. They laid the body 
of the youth within it, with the canary-bird reposing upon his 
breast, upon which the basket raised itself into the air, and 
floated over the head of the old woman : and she followed 
the steps of the Will-o'-the-wisps. The beautiful Lily, taking 
Mops in her arms, walked after the old woman ; and the 
man with the lamp closed the procession. 

The whole neighborhood was brilliantly illuminated with 
all these various lights. They all observed with astonish- 
ment, on approaching the river, that it was spanned by a 
majestic arch, whereby the benevolent Dragon had prepared 
them a lustrous passage across. The transparent jewels of 
which the bridge was composed were objects of no less aston- 
ishment by day than was their wondrous brilliancy by night 



380 THE RECREATIONS OF 

The clear arch above cut sharply against the dark sky ; whilst 
vivid rays of light beneath shone against the key-stone, 
revealing the firm pliability of the structure. The procession 
moved slowly over ; and the Ferryman, who witnessed the 
proceeding from his hut, surveyed the brilliant arch with 
awe, no less than the wondrous lights as they journeyed 
across it. 

As soon as they had reached the opposite bank, the bridge 
began to contract as usual, and sink to the surface of the 
water. The Dragon made her way to the shore, and the 
basket descended to the ground. The Dragon now once more 
assumed a circular shape ; and the old man, bowing before 
her, asked what she had determined to do. 

"To sacrifice myself before I am made a sacrifice: only 
promise me that you will leave no stone on the land." 

The old man promised, and then addressed the beautiful 
Lily thus: "Touch the Dragon with your left hand, and 
your lover with your right. " 

The beautiful Lily knelt down, and laid her hands upon 
the Dragon and the corpse. In an instant the latter became 
endued with life : he moved, and then sat upright. The 
Lily wished to embrace him ; but the old man held her back, 
and assisted the youth whilst he led him beyond the limits of 
the circle. 

The youth stood erect, the little canary fluttered upon his 
shoulder, but his mind was not yet restored. His eyes were 
open ; but he saw, at least he appeared to look on, every 
thing with indifference. Scarcely was the wonder at this cir- 
cumstance appeased, when the change which the Dragon had 
undergone excited attention. Her beautiful and slender form 
was converted into thousands and thousands of precious 
stones. The old woman, in the effort to seize her basket, 
had struck unintentionally against her, after which nothing 
more was seen of the figure of the Dragon. Only a heap of 
brilliant jewels lay in the grass. The old man immediately 
set to work to collect them into his basket, a task in which he 
was assisted by his wife. They both then carried the basket 
to an elevated spot on the bank, when he cast the entire con- 
tents into the stream, not, however, without the opposition of 
his wife and of the beautiful Lily, who would willingly have 
appropriated a portion of the treasure to themselves. The 
jewels gleamed in the rippling waters like brilliant stars, and 
were carried away by the stream ; and none can say whether 
they disappeared in the distance or sank to the bottom. 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 381 

"Young gentlemen," then said the old man respectfully 
to the Will-o'-the-wisps, u I will now point out your path, 
and lead the way ; and you will render us the greatest service 
by opening the doors of the temple through which we must 
enter, and which you alone can unlock." 

The Will-o'-the-wisps bowed politely, and took their post 
in the rear. The man with the lamp advanced first into the 
rocks, which opened of their own accord ; the youth followed 
with apparent indifference ; with silent uncertainty the beau- 
tiful Lily lingered slowly behind ; the old woman, unwilling 
to be left alone, followed after, stretching out her hand that 
it might receive the rays of her husband's lamp ; the proces- 
sion was closed by the Will-o'-the-wisps, and their bright 
flames nodded and blended with each other as if they were 
engaged in active conversation. They had not gone far be- 
fore they came to a large brazen gate which was fastened by 
a golden lock. The old man thereupon sought the assistance 
of the Will-o'-the-wisps, who did not want to be entreated, 
but at once introduced their pointed flames into the lock, when 
the wards yielded to their influence. The brass resounded 
as the doors flew wide asunder, and displayed the venerable 
statues of the kings illuminated by the advancing lights. 
Each individual in turn bowed to the reverend potentates 
with respect, and the Will-o'-the-wisps were prodigal of 
their lambent salutations. 

After a short pause the Golden King asked, " Whence do 
you come ? ' ' 

" From the world," answered the old man. 

" And whither are you going? " inquired the Silver King. 

" Back to the world," was the answer. 

" And what do you wish with us?" asked the Brazen 
King. 

" To accompany you," responded the old man. 

The fourth king was about to speak, when the golden statue 
thus addressed the Will-o'-the-wisps, who had advanced 
towards him: "Depart from me. My gold is not for 
you." 

They then turned towards the Silver King, and his apparel 
assumed the golden hue of their yellow flames. " You are 
welcome," he said, " bat I cannot feed you. Satisfy your- 
selves elsewhere, and then bring me your light." 

They departed ; and, stealing unobserved past the Brazen 
King, they attached themselves to the King composed of 
various metals. 



382 THE RECREATIONS OF 

"Who will rule the world ?" inquired the latter in inar- 
ticulate tones. 

" He who stands erect," answered the old man. 

"That is I," replied the King. 

4 Then it will be revealed," said the old man, " for the 
time is come." 

The beautiful Lily fell upon his neck, and kissed him 
tenderly. "Kind father," she said, "a thousand thanks for 
allowing me to hear this comforting word for the third time : " 
and, so saying, she felt compelled to grasp the old man's arm ; 
for the earth began to tremble beneath them : the old woman 
and the youth clung to each other, whilst the pliant Will-o'- 
the-wisps felt not the slightest inconvenience. 

It was evident that the whole temple was in motion ; and, 
like a ship which pursues its quiet way from the harbor when 
the anchor is raised, the depths of the earth seemed to open 
before it, whilst it clove its way through. It encountered no 
obstacle, no rock opposed its progress. Presently a very fine 
rain penetrated through the cupola. The old man continued 
to support the beautiful Lily, and whispered, "We are now 
under the river, and shall soon attain the goal." Presently 
they thought the motion ceased ; but they were deceived, the 
temple still moved onwards. A strange sound was now 
heard above them : beams and broken rafters burst in dis- 
jointed fragments though the opening of the cupola. The 
Lily and the old woman retreated in alarm : the man with 
the lamp stood by the youth, and encouraged him to remain. 
The Ferryman's little hut had been ploughed from the ground 
by the advance of the temple, and, in its gradual fall, buried 
the youth and the old man. 

The women screamed in alarm, and the temple shook like 
a vessel which strikes upon a hidden rock. Anxiously the 
women wandered round the hut in darkness : the doors were 
shut, and no one answered their knocking. They continued 
to knock more loudly, when at last the wood began to ring 
with sounds : the magic power of the lamp, which was en- 
closed within the hut, changed it into silver, and presently its 
very form was altered ; for the noble metal, refusing to assume 
the form of planks, posts, and rafters, was converted into a 
glorious building of artistic workmanship : it seemed as if 
a smaller temple had grown up within the large one, or at 
least an altar worthy of its beauty. 

The noble youth ascended a staircase in the interior, whilst 
the man with the lamp shed light upon his way ; and another 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 383 

figure lent him support, dad in a short white garment, and 
holding in his hand a silver rudder : it was easy to recognize 
the Ferryman, the former inhabitant of the transformed 
hut. 

The beautiful Lily ascended the outward steps which led 
from the temple to the altar, but was compelled to remain 
separated from her lover. The old woman, whose hand con- 
tinued to grow smaller whilst the light of the lamp was ob- 
scured, exclaimed, " Am I still doomed to be unhappy amid 
so many miracles? will no miracle restore my hand? " 

Her husband pointed to the open door, exclaiming, " See, 
the day dawns ! hasten, and bathe in the river ! " 

4 'What advice!" she answered: "shall I not become 
wholly black, and dissolve into nothing? for I have not yet 
discharged my debt." 

" Be silent," said the old man, " and follow me : all debts 
are wiped away." 

The old woman obeyed, and in the same instant the light 
of the rising sun shone upon the circle of the cupola. Then 
the old man, advancing between the youth and the maiden, 
exclaimed with a loud voice, "Three things have sway upon 
the earth, — Wisdom, Appearance, and Power." 

At the sound of the first word the Golden King arose ; at 
the sound of the second, the Silver King ; and the Brazen 
King had risen at the sound of the third, when the fourth 
suddenly sunk awkwardly to the earth. The Will-o'-the- 
wisps, who had been busily employed upon him till this 
moment, now retreated : though paled by the light of the 
morning, they seemed in good condition, and sufficiently bril- 
liant ; for the} r had with much dexterity extracted the gold 
from the veins of the colossal statue with their sharp-pointed 
tongues. The irregular spaces which were thus displayed 
remained for some time exposed, and the figure preserved its 
previous form ; but when at length the most secret veins of 
gold had been extracted, the statue suddenly fell with a crash, 
and formed a mass of shapeless ruins. 

The man with the lamp conducted the youth, whose eye 
was still fixed upon vacancy, from the altar towards the 
Brazen King. At the foot of the mighty monarch lay a 
sword in a brazen sheath. The youth bound it to his side. 
"Take the weapon in your left hand, and keep the right 
hand free," exclaimed the King. 

They then advanced to the Silver Monarch, who bent his 
sceptre towards the youth ; the latter seized it with his left 



384 THE RECREATIONS OF 

hand: and the King addressed him in soft accents, "Feed 
my sheep." 

When they reached the statue of the Golden King, with 
paternal benediction the latter pressed the oaken garland on 
the head of the youth, and said, ' ' Acknowledge the high- 
est/ ' 

The old man had, during this proceeding, watched the youth 
attentively. After he had girded on the sword, his breast 
heaved, his arm was firmer, and his step more erect ; and, 
after he had touched the sceptre, his sense of power appeared 
to soften, and at the same time, by an inexpressible charm, 
to become more mighty ; but, when his waving locks were 
adorned with the oaken garland, his countenance became ani- 
mated, his soul beamed from his eye ; and the first word he 
uttered was ' ' Lily ! ' ' 

" Dear Lily ! " he exclaimed, as he hastened to ascend the 
silver stairs, for she had observed his progress from the altar 
where she stood, — "dear Lily, what can man desire more 
blessed than the innocence and the sweet affection which your 
love brings me? O my friend!" he continued, turning to 
the old man, and pointing to the three sacred statues, '* se- 
cure and glorious is the kingdom of our fathers ; but you have 
forgotten to enumerate that fourth power, which exercises an 
earlier, more universal, and certain rule over the world, — the 
power of love." 

With these words he flung his arms round the neck of the 
beautiful maiden : she had cast aside her veil, and her cheeks 
were tinged with a blush of the sweetest and most inexpressi- 
ble beauty. 

The old man now observed, with a smile, " Love does not 
rule, but controls ; and that is better." 

During all this delight and enchantment, no one had ob- 
served that the sun was now high in heaven ; and through the 
open gates of the temple most unexpected objects were per- 
ceived. An empty space, of large dimensions, was surrounded 
by pillars, and terminated by a long and splendid bridge, 
whose many arches stretched across the river. On each side 
was a footpath, wide and convenient for passengers, of whom 
many thousands were busily employed in crossing over : the 
wide road in the centre was crowded with flocks and herds, 
and horsemen and carriages ; and all streamed over without 
impeding each other's progress. . All were in raptures at the 
union of convenience and beauty ; and the new king and his 
spouse were as much charmed with the animation and activity 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 386 

of this great concourse as they were with their own recipro- 
cal love. 

"Honor the Dragon,' * said the man with the lamp : " to 
her you are indebted for life, and your people for the bridge 
whereby these neighboring shores are animated and con- 
nected. Those shining precious stones which still float by 
are the remains of her self-sacrifice, and form the foundation- 
stones of this glorious bridge, upon which she has erected 
herself to subsist forever." 

The approach of four beautiful maidens, who advanced to 
the door of the temple, prevented any inquiry into this won- 
derful mystery. Three of them were recognized as the 
attendants of the beautiful Lily, by the harp, the fan, and 
the ivory chair ; but the fourth, though more beautiful than 
the other three, was a stranger. She, however, played with the 
others with sisterly sportiveness, ran with them through the 
temple, and ascended the silver stairs. 

4 ' Thou dearest of creatures ! ' ' said the man with the lamp, 
addressing the beautiful Lily, " you will surely believe me 
for the future. Happy for thee, and every other creature, 
who shall bathe this morning in the waters of the river ! ' ' 

The old woman, who had been transformed into a beautiful 
young girl, and of whose former appearance no trace remained, 
embraced the man with the lamp with tender caresses, which 
he returned with affection. 

u If I am too old for you," he said with a smile, "you 
may to-day select another bridegroom ; for no tie can hence- 
forth be considered binding which is not this day renewed." 

" But are you not aware that you also have become 
young? " she inquired. 

" I am delighted to hear it," he replied. " If I appear to 
you to be a gallant youth, I take your hand anew, and hope 
for a thousand years of happiness." 

The Queen welcomed her new friend, and advanced with 
her and the rest of her companions to the altar : whilst the 
King, supported by the two men, pointed to the bridge, and 
surveyed with wonder the crowd of passengers ; but his joy 
was soon overshadowed by observing an object which gave 
him pain. The Giant, who had just awakened from his 
morning sleep, stumbled over the bridge, and gave rise to 
the greatest confusion. He was, as usual, but half awake, 
and had risen with the intention of bathing in the neighboring 
cove ; but he stumbled instead upon firm land, and found 
himself feeling his way upon the broad highway of the bridge. 

13— Goethe Vol. 8 



386 THE RECREATIONS OF 

And, whilst he went clumsily along in the midst of men and 
animals, his presence, though a matter of astonishment to all, 
was felt by none ; but when the sun shone in his eyes, and he 
raised his hand to shade them, the shadow of his enormous 
fist fell amongst the crowd with such careless violence, that 
both men and animals huddled together in promiscuous con- 
fusion, and either sustained personal injury, or ran the risk 
of being driven into the water. 

The King, observing this calamity, with an involuntary 
movement placed his hand upon his sword, but, upon reflec- 
tion, turned his eyes on his sceptre, and then on the lamp 
and the rudder of his companions. 

" I guess your thought," said the man with the lamp, 
"but we are so powerless against this monster: be tran- 
quil; he injures for the last time, and happily his shadow 
is turned from us." 

In the meantime the Giant had approached, and, over- 
powered with astonishment at what he saw, let his hands 
sink down: he became powerless for injury, and, gazing 
with surprise, entered the court-yard. 

He was moving straight towards the door of the temple, 
when he felt himself suddenly held fast to the earth . He 
stood like a colossal pillar constructed of red, shining stones ; 
and his shadow indicated the hours, which were marked in a 
circle on the ground, not, however, in figures, but in noble 
and significant effigies. 

The King was not a little delighted to see the shadow of 
the monster rendered harmless ; and the Queen was not less 
astonished, as she advanced from the altar with her maidens, 
all adorned with the greatest magnificence, to observe the 
strange wonder which almost covered the whole prospect from 
the temple to the bridge. 

In the mean time the people had crowded after the Giant, 
and, surrounding him as he stood still, had observed his trans- 
formation with the utmost awe. They thence bent their steps 
towards the temple, of the existence of which they now 
seemed to be for the first time aware, and thronged the 
doorways. 

The hawk was now observed aloft, towering over the build- 
ing, and carrying the mirror, with which he caught the light 
of the sun, and turned the rays upon the multifarious group 
which stood around the altar. The King, the Queen, and 
their attendants, illumined by heavenly light, appeared be- 
neath the dim arches of the temple : their subjects fell pros- 



THE GERMAN EMIGRANTS. 387 

trate before them. When they had recovered, and risen 
again, the King and his attendants had descended to the 
altar, in order to reach his palace by a less obstructed path ; 
and the people dispersed through the temple to satisfy their 
curiosity. They beheld with astonishment the three kings, 
who stood erect, and were all the more anxious to know what 
could be concealed behind the curtain in the fourth niche ; 
since, whatever kindness might have prompted the deed, a 
thoughtful discretion had extended a costly covering over the 
ruins of the fallen king, which no eye cared to penetrate, 
and no profane hand dared to uplift. 

There was no end to the astonishment and wonder of 
the people, and the dense throng would have been crushed 
in the temple if their attention had not been attracted 
once more to the court without. 

To their great surprise, a shower of gold pieces fell as 
if from the air, resounding upon the marble pavement, 
and caused a contest and commotion amongst the passers- 
by. Several times this wonder was repeated in different 
places, at some distance from each other. It is not diffi- 
cult to infer that this feat was the work of the retreating 
Will-o'the-wisps, who having extracted the gold from the 
limbs of the mutilated King, dispersed it abroad in this 
joyous manner. The covetous crowd continued their 
contentions for some time longer, pressing hither and 
thither, and inflicting wounds upon each other, till the 
shower of gold pieces ceased to fall. The multitude at 
length dispersed gradually, each one pursuing his own 
course; and the bridge, to this day, continues to swarm 
with travellers ; and the temple is the most frequented in 
the world. 



BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY 



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