He

his gold, his silver, his statues, his apes, his parrots, and heard his own curs twaddle about the great man.' shut his soul from the Berlin world as if in a castle.' With the men he held no intercourse. I have spoken no word in the Prussian dominions which might not be made public. Therefore I am called haughty and so forth.' Varnhagen intimates that the ill-will he excited by not visiting the literati, and by his reserve, was so great as to make him averse from hearing of his visit in after years. * What, indeed, as Varnhagen asks, had Goethe in common with Nicolai, Ramler, Engel, Zellner, and the rest? Humboldt he visited at Tegel, but the great traveller was then a youth, and had not taken his place among the notables. Frederick the Great took no notice of him. Indeed, Frederick's admiration lay in other directions. What culture he had was French, and his opinion of German literature had been very explicitly pronounced in a work published this year, in which Götz von Berlichingen was cited as a sample of the reigning bad taste. The passage is too curious to be omitted. Vous y verrez représenter les abominables pièces de Shakspear traduites en notre langue, et tout l'auditoire se pâmer d'aise en entendant ces farces ridicules, et dignes des sauvages de Canada.' That certainly was afflicting to 'le bon goût;' but that was not the worst. Shakespeare might be pardoned for his faults, car la naissance des arts n'est jamais le point de leur maturité. Mais voilà encore un Goetz de Berlichingen qui parait sur la scène, imitation détestable de ces mauvaises pièces anglaises, et le parterre applaudit et demande avec enthousiasme la répétition de ces dégoûtantes platitudes ! '†

*Vermischte Schriften, iii. p. 62.

6

† De la Littérateur Allemande, p. 46. His opinion of the newlydiscovered Nibelungen Lied was no less characteristically contemptuous he declared he would not give such rubbish house-room.

Thus the two German Emperors, Fritz and Wolfgang, held no spiritual congress; perhaps no good result could have been elicited by their meeting. Yet they were, each in his own sphere, the two most potent men then reigning. Fritz did not directly assist the literature of his country, but his indirect influence has been indicated by Griepenkerl.* He awoke the Germans from their sleep by the rolling of drums; those who least liked the clang of arms or the divisions of a battle field,' were nevertheless awakened to the fact that something important was going on in life, and they rubbed their sleepy eyes, and tried to see a little into that. The roll of drums has this merit, at all events, that it draws men from 'their library table to the window, and so makes them look out upon the moving, living world of action, wherein the erudite may see a 'considerable sensation' made even by men unable to conjugate a Greek verb in '.' †

On returning to Weimar, Goethe occupied himself with various architectural studies, à propos of the rebuilding of the palace; and commenced those alterations in the park, which resulted in the beautiful distribution formerly described. But I pass over many details of his activity, to narrate an episode which must win the heart of every reader. In these pages it has been evident, I hope, that no compromise with the truth has led me to gloss over faults, or to conceal shortcomings. All that testimony warrants I have reproduced: good and evil, as in the mingled yarn of life. Faults and deficiencies, even griev

*Der Kunstgenius der Deutschen Literatur des letzten Jahrhunderts, i. p. 52.

† Dr. George has become famous (or did become so for, alas! what is fame?) by his shrewd suspicion that Frederick with all his victories could not accomplish that feat of intellectual vigor. Many men still measure greatness by verbs in μ.

ous errors, do not estrange a friend from our hearts; why should they lower a hero? Why should the biographer fear to trust the tolerance of human sympathy? Why labor to prove a hero faultless? The reader is no valet de chambre, incapable of crediting greatness in a robe de chambre. Never should we forget the profound saying of Hegel, in answer to the vulgar aphorism (No man is a hero to his valet de chambre'); namely, 'This is not because the Hero is no Hero, but because the Valet is a Valet.'* Having trusted to the effect which the true man would produce, in spite of all drawbacks, — and certain that the true man was loveable as well as admirable, I have made no direct appeal to the reader's sympathy, nor tried to make out a case in favor of extraordinary virtue.'

But the tribute of affectionate applause is claimed now we have arrived at a passage in his life so characteristic of the delicacy, generosity and nobility of his nature, that it is scarcely possible for any one not to love him, after reading it. Of generosity, in the more ordinary sense, there are abundant examples in his history. Riemer has instanced several, † but these are acts of kindness, thoughtfulness and courtesy, such as one expects to find in a prosperous poet. That he was kind, gave freely, sympathized freely, acted disinterestedly, and that his kindness showed itself in trifles quite as much as in important actions (a most significant trait ! ‡), is known to all persons moderately

* Nicht aber darum weil dieser kein Held ist, sondern weil jener der Kammerdiener ist.' — Philosophie der Geschichte, p. 40. Goethe repeated this as an epigram; and Carlyle has wrought it into the minds of hundreds; but Hegel is the originator.

† Mittheilungen, vol. i. 102-5.

There is lamentable confusion in our estimation of character on this point of generosity. We often mistake a spasm of sensibility

acquainted with German literature. But the disposition exhibited in the story I am about to tell is such as few would have imagined to be lying beneath the stately pru dence and calm self-mastery of the man so often styled ' heartless.'

This is the story: A man (his name still remains a secret) of a strange, morbid, suspicious disposition, had fallen into destitution, partly from unfortunate circumstances, partly from his own fault. He applied to Goethe for assistance, as so many others did; and he painted his condition in all the eloquence of despair.

'According to the idea I form of you from your letters,' writes Goethe, 'I fancy I am not deceived, and this to me is very painful, in believing that I cannot give help or hope to one who needs so much. But I am not the man Accept the little that I

to say, "Arise, and go farther." can give, as a plank thrown towards you for momentary succor. If you remain longer where you are, I will gladly see that in future you receive some slight assistance. In acknowledging the receipt of this money, pray inform me how far you can make it go. If you are in want of a dress, greatcoat, boots, or warm stockings, tell me so; I have some that I can spare.

Accept this drop of balsam from the compendious medicine-chest of the Samaritan, in the same spirit as it is offered.'

This was on the 2d of November, 1778.

On the 11th

for the strength of lovingness. making an occasional act of kindness the sign of a kind nature. Benjamin Constant says of himself: Je puis faire de bonnes et fortes actions; je ne puis avoir de bons procédés. There are hundreds like him. On the other hand, there are hundreds who willingly perform many little acts of kindness and courtesy, but who never rise to the dignity of generosity; these are poor natures, ignorant of the grander throbbings of human pulses.

he writes again, and from the letter we see that he had resolved to do more than throw out a momentary plank to the shipwrecked man in fact he had undertaken to sup

port him.

6

In this parcel you will receive a greatcoat, boots, stockings and some money. My plan for you this winter is this:

6

In Jena living is cheap. I will arrange for board, lodging, etc., on the strictest economy, and will say it is for some one who, with a small pension, desires to live in retirement. When that is secured I will write to you; you can then go there, establish yourself in your quarters, and I will send you cloth and lining, with the necessary money, for a coat, which you can get made, and I will inform the rector that you were recommended to me, and that you wish to live in retirement at the University.

'You must then invent some plausible story, have your name entered on the books of the University, and no soul will ever inquire more about you, neither Burgomaster nor Amtmann. I have not sent you one of my coats, because it might be recognized in Jena. Write to me and let me know what you think of this plan, and at all events in what character you propose to present yourself.'

The passage in italics indicates great thoughtfulness. Indeed the whole of this correspondence shows the most tender consideration for the feelings of his protégé. In the postscript he says: And now step boldly forth again upon the path of life! We live but once ... Yes, I know perfectly what it is to take the fate of another upon one's own shoulders, but you shall not perish!' On the 23d he writes:.

'I received to-day your two letters of the 17th and 18th, and have so far anticipated their contents as to have caused inquiry to be made in Jena for the fullest details as for one