myself with the thought, that others before me have not been more fortunate. 66 "I could not, indeed, be a friend to the French Revolution, for its horrors were too near to me, and revolted me daily and hourly, whilst its beneficent consequences were not then to be perceived. I could not, either, be indifferent, when the attempt was made to bring about, in an artificial manner, in Germany, scenes similar to those which in France had been the consequence of a great necessity. But I was just as little the friend of arbitrary power; and I was perfectly convinced, that every great revolution is the fault of the government, not of the people. "Because, however, I hated revolutions, I have been called a friend to the existing state of things-conservative (Freund des Bestehenden.) If all that existed were good and just I should have nothing to say against this. But since, by the side of much that is good, there exists also much that is bad, imperfect, and unjust, a friend of whatever exists is often a friend of the pernicious and the obsolete. Time is in perpetual progress-and human affairs take, every fifty years, another form; so that an institution that may be perfection in the year 1800, will become an abuse in 1850. 666 Again, nothing is good for a nation but what proceeds from its innermost kernel, from its own internal wants, without imitation of any other; for what to a people, at a certain stage of culture, Inay afford beneficent nourishment, may act on another as a poison. All attempts to introduce any foreign innovation-for which the necessity does not lie deep in the heart of the nation itself are a folly, and all such intended revolutions remain without result. They are without God, who holds himself aloof from any such botching. Whenever a real necessity for any great reform exists, God goes with it, and it succeeds. He was visibly with Christ and his apostles and their first disciples; for the appearance of the new doctrine of love was a want, a necessity, for all nations: he was just as visible with Luther, for the purification of that doctrine, disfigured by priestcraft, was equally necessary. Neither of the above named great powers could be called friends of the existing, far more were both deeply penetrated with the necessity of clearing out the old leaven, that what was defective, untrue, and unjust, could not be suffered to continue."" On another occasion he returns to the subject. The conversation turned upon French literature, and upon the ultra-romantic tendencies of several writers of considerable talents. Goethe was of opinion, that the poetical revolution then going on, though it might be prejudicial to individuals, was in the highest degree favorable to literature it self. "In no revolution,' said he, 'are extremes to be avoided. In the beginning, nothing further is generally contemplated than the getting rid of some abuses; but before people know where they are, they find themselves in the midst of horror and bloodshed. The French, in their present literary movement, intended nothing further than to obtain a freer form; but they do not now stop at that, but along with the form reject also the matter. The representation of noble deeds and noble characters, begins to be thought tedious; and variety is sought in the exhibition of depravity. In place of the beautiful fictions of heathen mythology, come devils, witches, and vampires; and the heroes of former ages have to give place to cheats and galley-slaves. That is piquant that produces an effect; and after the public has been accustomed to these highly-spiced ingredients, it desires continually more and stronger stimulants. "A young writer who wishes to succeed, and is not strong enough to choose his own path, must accomodate himself to the taste of the day, and, if possible, outdo all his predecessors in scenes of horror. In this striving after effect, every profound study, and every gradual develop ment of the man from within, is out of the question. That is the greatest injury that can be done to the man; but literature in general will gain by the direction it is now taking.' 'How,' said I, can a movement, which destroys individual talent, be favorable to literature in general?' 6 666 "The extremes and excesses to which I have alluded,' replied Goethe, will gradually disappear, but the great advantage will remain, that, besides a freer form, a richer and more various matter will have been obtained; and no object in the wide extent of life and the world will be rejected any more as unpoetical. I compare the present literary epoch to the crisis of a violent fever-a condition not in itself good or desirable, but which is followed by an improved state of health. The extravagances which at present form the whole contents of a poetical work will hereafter only enter as an occasional ingredient; and the pure and the noble, banished for the moment, will be sought for again with so much the greater eagerness. They then talked of Berenger, and Eckermann gave the preference to his love-songs over his political poems. "That is because the political poems are not written for you,' said Goethe, Ask a Frenchman, and he will tell you what they are worth. A political poem is, in the most favorable cases, only to be regarded as the organ of a certain nation, and, in most, only of a certain party. A circumstance favorable to Berenger was, that as Paris is France, all the important interests of his country are concentrated in the capital, and find therefore, he is not to be regarded as the mere there their echo. In most of his political songs, organ of a party, but rather of the whole people. With us, in Germany, that would not be possible. We have no city-not even a country of which we could say, this is Germany. Should we ask in Vienna, we should be told this is Austria; in Berlin, this is Prussia Sixteen years ago, indeed, when we wanted to get rid of the French, Germany was everywhere, and a political poet might have produced some effect; but he was not wanted. A universal feeling of the disgrace we had suffered, and of the necessity for an effort, had seized on the minds of the people; the ethereal fire which the poet might have kindled was burning in every heart; but I will not deny that Arndt, Körner and Ruckert did something." "You have been reproached,' said I, rather thoughtlessly, with not having taking up arms at that epoch; or, at all events, taken your part in the movement as a poet.' "Let us drop that subject, my good friend,' replied Goethe. It is an absurd world which does not know what it wants. How could take up arms without feeling any hatred; and how could I hate at my age? Had that period found me a lad of twenty, I should certainly not have been the last; but remember, I was already turned of sixty. We cannot all serve our country in the same way; but let every one do his best, according to the gifts that God has given him. I have worked hard enough for half a century, and I may say that, in those things which Nature has appointed me to work at, I have allowed myself no rest, day or night, but have toiled and striven without ceasing, whenever and wherever I could. If every one can say the same, it will be well for us all.' "At bottom,' said I, endeavoring to make amends, that reproach should not annoy you. For what does it mean more than that the world's opinion of you is so great, that they require of him who has done so much for their culture nothing less than all ?' I don't know,' said Goethe; there is more malace against me in those sayings than you imagine. It is a new form of the same old hatred that has pursued me for years, and is ever seeking for a vulnerable point. I have long been a stumbling-block to many, and they would gladly be rid of me. As they can find nothing against my talents, they attack my character. I am proud, selfish, envious; of young talent-sunk in sensual indulgence-no Christian-and now, forsooth, without any attachment to my country, or my dear fellow-countrymen. You have known me for years, and can say how much truth there is in all this. As for sitting quietly in my room and writing fierce war-songs-that was not my way. Lying at night by a bivouac fire, when one can hear the neighing of the enemy's horse-then, indeed, one might write warlike songs; but that was not the life for me, but for Theodore Körner. His martial songs suit him admirably. I am not of a warlike disposition; and had I assumed it, it must have been a mere task, which would have sat very ill on me. "There has been no affectation in my poetry. I have not talked and made verses about what I have not known and lived through. How could I write poems of hate, when I felt no hatred? Between ourselves, I did not hate even the French, though I was heartily glad when we were free of them. How could I, to whom culture and barbarism alone are things of consequence, hate a nation which is one of the most cultivated in Europe-and to which I am myself indebted for so great a part of my own culture?' VOL. XVI. NO. IV. 30 "Our conversation soon turned on other matters, and Goethe requested me to tell him my notion of the Saint-Simonians. "The chief principle of their doctrines,' I replied,' appears to be this--that every one shall labor for the happiness of the whole, as a necessary condition of his own happiness.' 6 "I thought,' rejoined Goethe, that every one should begin at home, and first of all work out his own happiness, from which finally the happiness of the whole would infallibly result. For the rest, that doctrine seems to me throughout unpractical and impracticable. It contradicts all nature, all experience, and the whole course of things, for centuries. If every one will but do his duty as an individual, and will but be courageous and sufficient in the sphere of his immediate calling, there need be no fear for the weal of the whole. In my vocation of author I have never asked, "What is it the great mass wishes, and how can I be useful to the whole ?" but my endeavor, and my only endeavor has been thisto make myself wiser and better, to increase the worth of my own personality; and then always to express only what I recognized to be good and true. My work indeed, I do not mean to deny it, has been effective and useful in a great circle; but such was not my aim, it was merely a necessary consequence-one which takes place in all activity whatsoever. If, as a writer, I had kept in view the wants of the mob, and sought to appease them, I should have betaken myself to story-telling, and made sport of them, like Kotzebue of blessed memory !' "That admits of no question,' I replied. There is, however, besides the happiness which I enjoy as a private individual, one which arises from my existence as a citizen and a member of a great community. If, now, the attainment of the greatest possible happiness by an entire nation be not made a principle of action, on what basis is legislation to erect itself?' "If that be your meaning,' rejoined Goethe, 'I have indeed no objection to urge. In such cases, however, none but a very select few could make use of your principle. It would be a recipe for princes and lawgivers solely, although even in that case it seems to me that laws should strive rather to lessen the mass of evil, than pretend to introduce universal happiness.' "Both these things,' I replied, would in the long run coincide. Bad roads, for example, appear to me to be a great evil; now if the ruler makes good roads through his state, even to the humblest villages, he has not merely destroyed a great evil, he has conferred on his people a great blessing. Further, a tardy administration of justice is a great misfortune; now if the ruler, by the introduction of a public and oral legal procedure, bestows on his people a speedy one, not merely is a great evil subdued, but a great blessing is introduced.'-'I could sing you many a song to this tune,' interrupted Goethe. But we will agree to leave some evils unindicated, in order that mankind may still possess something on which to exercise their power. My main doctrine is briefly this: Let the father care for his house, the artisan for his customers, the priest for mutual love, and the petty jealousy with which scientific men let the police not disturb our joy.' will frequently dispute with each other the priory of a discovery * * * The mention of Dumont turned the conversation to his relation to Bentham, on which Goethe thus expressed himself: "It is to me an interesting problem how so sensible, so practical a man as Dumont, can be the true worshipper and pupil of that ass Bentham !** "Bentham,' I replied,' is in a certain degree to be looked upon as two persons. I distinguish between Bentham the genius, who evolved the principles which Dumont has preserved from oblivion, and Bentham the man of passion, who, in his exaggerated love of utility, overstepped the boundaries of his own doctrine, and thereby ran into radicalism, both in politics and religion." "But that,' rejoined Goethe, 'is precisely a new problem to me-namely, how an old man can close the course of a long life by remaining a radical in his last days.' “I tried to explain this contradiction by remarking that Bentham, in the conviction of the excellence of his doctrine and system of legislation, and seeing the impossibility of introducing it into England without a complete alteration of the ruling system, had been carried away by his passionate zeal, the more easily that he came little into contact with the world, and could not accurately measure the danger of a violent overturn. "Dumont on the contrary,' I continued, who has less passion and more clearness, has never approved of Bentham's fanaticism, and is very far from falling into a similar error. He has, besides this, had the privilege of applying Bentham's principles in a country which, in consequence of political changes, was at that time in a certain measure to be regarded as a new one, namely, in Geneva, where moreover everything succeeded perfectly, and a happy result exhibited the worth of the principle.' 66 6 “Dumont,' said Goethe, is a moderate liberal, as all sensible people are and ought to be, and as I myself not only am, but as such have endeavored to work through the course of a long life. The true liberal,' he continued, 'seeks to effect as much good as he can with the means actually at his disposal, but he is chary of destroying mischiefs, often inevitable, by fire and sword. He labors by prudent progression gradually to expel the disease of the commonwealth, without destroying by violent expedients much that is excellent along with them. In this world, always one of imperfections, he is content with the good, until time and circumstances are favorable for his attainment of the better.'" * * * * * "There is nothing,' said Goethe, 'by which I have acquired more knowledge of mankind than by my scientific studies. The acquisition has, indeed, cost me much trouble and annoyance; but I rejoice in it nevertheless.' 6 "It appears,' said I, that the egotism of men is especially awakened in the pursuit of science; and when that is once put in action, all the defects of a character usually make their appearance.' In "The questions of science,' replied Goethe, are frequently questions of existence. A single discovery may make a man famous, and lay the foundation of his social position. This is often the occasion of the vigilance and jealousy with which scientific men watch over each other. the region of æsthetics, offenses of this sort are more easily pardoned. Thoughts are more or less the property of all men; and all depends on the treatment and carrying out of them, so that there is less room for envy. A single thought may ask only which poet has embodied it in the most serve as matter for a hundred epigrams; and we beautiful and effective manner. In matters of science, on the contrary, the first thought is all; there is little that is universal or subjective in these things; but the particular manifestations of the laws of Nature lie dumb, rigid and sphinx-like before us. Every new observation of a phenomenon is a discovery-every discovery a property; his passions stands before you. It happens, howand the moment property is touched, man with ever, that what is merely learned traditionally and then should any one appear who brings with him in academies, is also regarded as property; and anything new-anything that does not harmonize with the creed that we have for years been repeating and teaching to others—all our passions are up in arms, and we endeavor, by every method to suppress him. We struggle as long as we can-pretend not to hear him, or not to understand him, and speak of him in a depreciating manner; so many obstacles has a new truth to encounter, before it can make its way.' Soon after, he recurs again to the accusation of having been an admirer of arbitrary power, and an enemy of the popular cause. "I know not,' said Goethe,' what sin against the people I have committed, that I should be accused of being no friend to them. I am, indeed, no lover of revolutionary mobs-practising incendiarism, robbery, and murder; who, behind the mask of the public weal, have none but objects of Speaking of the natural sciences, and of the lowest selfishness in view. Of such a people * Our readers will probably be astonished, and even shocked by the epithet, but we cannot help it. Thus it stands written. The word narr cannot, that we are aware of, be translated otherwise than by simpleton, fool, or ass. Among these they must take their choice. as this I am no more a friend than I am of Louis XV. I hate all violent overthrows; for they destroy as much good as they effect. I hate those who execute them, as well as those who give cause for them; but am I, for that reason, no friend to the people? Can any right-minded man think otherwise on this point? "You know how I rejoice at every improve ment which the future promises; but, as I have said, everything violent and sudden is hateful to to me; for it is not according to nature. "I love plants-I love the rose, as the most perfect flower that our German climate can produce; but I am not fool enough to require my garden to provide me with them at the end of April. I am content if I then find the first green buds-if, from week to week, I can see the leaves, one after another, unfolding themselves; and rejoice when, at the end of June, the rose unfolds itself in all its glory and fragrance. If any one has not patience to wait for this, let him go to the forcing-house. 66 6 "I have been reproached with being a servant of princes. Do I then serve a tyrant or a despot? Do I serve one who lives for his own pleasure at the cost of his subjects? Such princes and such times lie, thank God, far behind us! For half a century I have been strongly and intimately attached to the Grand Duke; for half a century I have worked and striven with him--but I should speak falsely if I said I knew of a single day during that period in which the Duke has had no thought tending to the good of his country, and the improvement of the condition of his people. What does he get personally by his princely rank but a weight of care and trouble? Is his habitation, his dress, his table better appointed than that of many a private man? There are merchants enough in our great trading cities who expend more upon their kitchen and cellar than ever he did. We shall celebrate this autumn the day on which the Grand Duke will have ruled and reigned for fifty years. But when we consider this reign, what has it been other than a fifty years' service? A service for the attainment of great objects for the welfare of his people. If, then, I must needs be a servant of princes, it is at least a consolation that I am the servant of one who is himself a servant of humanity.' " In all this we doubt not Goethe was perfectly sincere. We do not believe that he would have felt, still less that he would have stooped to profess, without feeling this attachment to a sovereign who did not possess, in a great measure, the virtues and excellences described; but would he have felt the same attachment and veneration for these virtues and excellences, had they been manifested in a humbler sphere? It belonged, perhaps, to the character of his mind, to his intense susceptibility to the beautiful, that they should attract him more powerfully when thus set in the imposing environments of princely rank; it belonged, too, to what we cannot but think a somewhat effeminate shrinking from all that was painful, that he should seek for the objects of his admiration rather on the glittering summits, than in the dark and rugged highways of life. the great for the sake of the selfish advantages to be obtained from them, he was wholy incapable; but to virtue, tranquillity, unfolding itself in the freedom and power of a high station, he had more affinity than to equal virtue struggling with adverse circumstances. He did not "despise poor folk," but he soared, perhaps, in somewhat too lordly a manner above them; and cared little to seek beneath the plain, or sometimes repulsive exterior of more humble life, for the virtues that so often "make a sunshine in that shady place." The following has much interest at the present moment. "We spoke of the unity of Germany, and in what sense it was possible and desirable. 'I have no fear,' said Goethe, but that Germany will one day be united. Our good roads and our future railways will do their part; but, before all, let us be united in love among ourselves, and united against a foreign foe. Let German dollars and gruschen have the same value all over Ger many. Let my trunk, when I am travelling, pass through the six-and-thirty states without being opened. Let the passport of a citizen of Weimar not be regarded everywhere else in Germany as that of a foreigner. Let there be no more talk of Inland and Outland among German states. Let Germany be one in her trade and commerce, in her weights and measures, and a hundred similar things that I could name.' "But if, by the unity of Germany, it is meant that it shall be one great empire, with one great capital-if it be supposed that this great capital will promote the welfare of the great mass of the people, as it may do the development of great individual talent, that is a great error. A state has been compared to a living body with many limbs ; and in this comparison the capital will, of course, take the place of the heart, from which life and well-being circulates to the nearer and more distant members. But for the members that are most distant, the stream of life will flow with less and less vigor. "A clever Frenchman-I believe Dupin-has made a map of the intellectual culture of France, and marked the greater or smaller illumination of the departments, with brighter or darker tints. We found in those provinces situated at the south, at the greatest distance from the capital, particu lar departments marked black, to represent their intellectual condition. But would this be the case if la belle France had possessed not one, but ten centres of life and light? In what is Germany great but in the admirable cultivation of her people, which has penetrated simultaneously to every part of the country? But does not this proceed from the numerous capitals? How would it stand with German culture, if, for centuries past, we had no other capitals than Vienna and Berlin, or, perhaps, only one ?-Nay, even with the general diffusion of prosperity, which goes. Of the low servility that attaches itself to hand-in-hand with culture. 666 Germany possesses twenty universities, scattered over her territory, and above a hundred public libraries, besides a proportionately large number of collections of works of art, and museums of natural history; for every prince has endeavored to draw some of these advantages to his own territory. Gymnastic and industrial schools we have in superabundance; and there is scarcely a single German village that is unprovided with the means of education. What is the position of France in this respect? "Again, we have above seventy theatres-and the theatre is by no means to be despised as the promoter of the higher popular culture. The taste and capacity for music and singing is in no country in the world so extensively diffused as in Germany. Then think of such cities as Dresden, Munich, Stuttgart, Cassel, Brunswick, Hanover, and the like; think of the great elements of life, which they have in them; of the effects which proceed from them to the neighboring provinces, -and ask yourself if they would have been what they are if they had not been the seats of separate rulers ? "Frankfort, Bremen, Hamburg, Lubeck, are splendid cities in themselves-not to calculate their effects on the general prosperity of Germany. Would they, however, remain such if they SONNETS ADDRESSED TO MY MOTHER. BY HENRY FRANK LOTT. I. Mother, thou know'st how truly I am thine Where love unselfish, glowing gratitude, I hold naught dearer than thy power to bless, Meeting or parting with the maid I love: II. Thy love was like a sheltering tree, that grew Över the stream that fed it;-thine embrace Was not more warm when first mine infant face Thou didst behold, than at our last adieu; Untiring, eager, generous, and true, Thy tenderness did with my years keep pace, Seeking all sorrow from my brow to chase, And holding truth and virtue up to view. Thanks! grateful thanks! I have not all deserved, I plead me guilty to a wayward will; Yet thou didst chide so mildly when I swerved, That I returned to love thee better still; Thy warning counsel has my spirit nerved, And proved an antidote to many an ill. III. As age accumulates upon thy brow, And all thine energies become less warm, Securely rest on my more vigorous armTime the protectorship reverses now. If, by God's blessing, health and strength allow, My toil shall comfort thee; secure from harm, No dread of want thy last days shall alarm, Nor workhouse insolence thy spirit bow. Mother, though dim thine eye, yet many a day, While blythe I sported, didst thou toil for me, Along no path of flowers, but a rude way Beset with hardship and with poverty. May I the debt that's due in part repay, By feeling grateful, and by aiding thee! IV. Dost ask why I have joined thy name to song? A pleasing theme unto her numbers joins |