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The Autobiography of Goethe
However, the strange elements of our little society still worked quite tolerably one upon another; we were partly united by our own manner and style of breeding, and partly restrained by the peculiar conduct of our hostess, who, being but lightly touched by that which passed around her, always resigned herself to certain ideal notions, and while she understood how to utter them in a friendly and benevolent way, contrived to soften everything sharp that might arise in the company, and to smooth down all that was uneven.
Merck had sounded a retreat just at the right time, so that the party separated on the best of terms. I went with him and his in a yacht, which was returning up the Rhine towards Mayence; and although this vessel went very slowly of itself, we nevertheless besought the captain not to hurry himself. Thus we enjoyed at leisure the infinitely various objects, which, in the most splendid weather, seem to increase in beauty every hour, and both in greatness and agreeableness ever to change anew; and I only wish that, while I utter the names, Rheinfels and St. Goar, Bacharach, Bingen, Ellfeld, and Biberich, every one of my readers may be able to recall these spots to memory.
We had sketched industriously, and had thus at least gained a deeper impression of the thousandfold changes of those splendid shores. At the same time, by being so much longer together, by a familiar communication on so many sorts of things, our connexion became so much the more intimate, that Merck gained a great influence over me, and I, as a good companion, became indispensable to him for a comfortable existence. My eye, sharpened by nature, again turned to the contemplation of art, for which the beautiful Frankfort collections afforded me the best opportunity, both in paintings and engravings, and I have been much indebted to the kindness of MM. Ettling and Ehrenreich, but especially to the excellent Nothnagel. To see nature in art became with me a passion, which, in its highest moments, must have appeared to others, passionate amateurs as they might be, almost like madness: and how could such an inclination be better fostered than by a constant observation of the excellent works of the Netherlanders? That I might make myself practically acquainted with these things, Nothnagel gave me a little room, where I found every thing that was requisite for oil painting, and painted after nature some simple subjects of still life, one of which, a tortoise-shell knife-handle, inlaid with silver, so astonished my master, who had last visited me an hour before, that he maintained one of his subordinate artists must have been with me during the time.
Reviving Taste for Art.
Had I patiently gone on practising myself on such objects catching their light and the peculiarities of their surface, I might have formed a sort of practical skill, and made a way for something higher. I was, however, prevented by the fault of all dilettantes – that of beginning with what is most difficult, and ever wishing to perform the impossible, and I soon involved myself in greater undertakings, in which I stuck fast, both because they were beyond my technical capabilities, and because I could not always maintain pure and operative that loving attention and patient industry, by which even the beginner accomplishes something.
At the same time, I was once more carried into a higher sphere, by finding an opportunity of purchasing some fine plaster casts of antique heads. The Italians, who visit the fairs, often brought with them good specimens of the kind, and sold them cheap, after they had taken moulds of them. In this manner I set up for myself a little museum, as I gradually brought together the heads of the Laocoön, his sons, and Niobe's daughters. I also bought miniature copies of the most important works of antiquity from the estate of a deceased friend of art, and thus sought once more to revive, as much as possible, the great impression which I had received at Mannheim.
While I now sought to cultivate, foster, and maintain all the talent, taste, or other inclination that might live in me, I applied a good part of the day, according to my father's wish, in the duties of an advocate, for the practice of which I chanced to find the best opportunity. After the death of my grandfather, my uncle Textor had come into the council, and consigned to me the little offices to which I was equal; while the brothers Schlosser did the same. I made myself acquainted with the documents; my father also read them with much pleasure, as by means of his son, he again saw himself in an activity of which he had been long deprived. We talked the matters over, and with great facility; I then made the necessary statements. We had at hand an excellent copyist, on whom one could rely for all legal formalities; and this occupation was the more agreeable to me as it brought me closer to my father, who, being perfectly satisfied with my conduct in this respect, readily looked with an eye of indulgence on all my other pursuits, in the ardent expectation that I should now soon gather in a harvest of fame as an author.
Because now, in every epoch, all things are connected together, since the ruling views and opinions are ramified in the most various manner, so in the science of law those maxims were gradually pursued, according to which religion and morals were treated. Among the attorneys, as the younger people, and then among the judges, as the elder, a spirit of humanity was diffused, and all vied with each other in being as humane as possible, even in legal affairs. Prisons were improved, crimes excused, punishments lightened, legitimations rendered easy, separations and unequal marriages encouraged, and one of our eminent lawyers gained for himself the highest fame, when he contrived, by hard fighting, to gain for the son of an executioner an entrance into the college of surgeons. In vain did guilds and corporations oppose; one dam after another was broken through. The toleration of the religious parties towards each other was not merely taught, but practised, and the civil constitution was threatened with a still greater influence, when the effort was made to recommend to that good-humoured age, with understanding, acuteness, and power, toleration toward the Jews. Those new subjects for legal treatment, which lay without the law and tradition, and only laid claim to a fair examination, to a kindly sympathy, required at the same time a more natural and animated style. Here for us, the youngest, was opened a cheerful field, in which we bustled about with delight, and I still recollect that an imperial councillor's agent, in a case of the sort, sent me a very polite letter of commendation. The French plaidoyés served us for patterns and for stimulants.
We were thus on the way to become better orators than jurists, a fact to which George Schlosser once called my attention, blaming me while doing so. I told him that I had read to my clients a controversial paper written with much energy in their favour, at which they had shown the greatest satisfaction. Upon this he replied to me, "In this case you have shown yourself more an author than an advocate. We must never ask how such a writing may please the client, but how it may please the judge."
State of the German stage.
As the occupations to which one devotes one's day are never so serious and pressing that one cannot find time enough in the evening to go to the play, thus was it also with me, who, in the want of a really good stage, did not cease thinking of the German theatre, in order to discover how one might cooperate upon it with any degree of activity. Its condition in the second half of the last century is sufficiently known, and every one who wishes to be instructed about it finds assistance at hand everywhere. On this account I only intend to insert here a few general remarks.
The success of the stage rested more upon the personality of the actors than upon the value of the pieces. This was especially the case with pieces half or wholly extemporized, when everything depended on the humour and talent of the comic actors. The matter of such pieces must be taken out of the commonest life, in conformity with the people before whom they are acted. From this immediate application arises the greatest applause, which these plays have always gained. They were always at home in South Germany, where they are retained to the present day; and the change of persons alone renders it necessary to give, from time to time, some change to the character of the comic masks. However, the German theatre, in conformity with the serious character of the nation, soon took a turn towards the moral, which was still more accelerated by an external cause. For the question arose, among strict Christians, whether the theatre belonged to those sinful things which are to be shunned, at all events, or to those indifferent things which can be good to the good and bad to the bad. Some zealots denied the latter, and held fast the opinion that no clergyman should ever enter the theatre. Now the opposite opinion could not be maintained with energy, unless the theatre was declared to be not only harmless, but even useful. To be useful, it must be moral; and in this direction it developed itself in North Germany the more as, by a sort of half-taste, the comic character60 was banished, and although intelligent persons took his part, was forced to retire, having already gone from the coarseness of the German hanswurst (jack-pudding) into the neatness and delicacy of the Italian and French harlequins. Even Scapin and Crispin gradually vanished; the latter I saw played for the last time by Koch, in his old age.
Richardson's novels had already made the citizen-world attentive to a more delicate morality. The severe and inevitable consequences of a feminine faux pas were analysed in a frightful manner in Clarissa. Lessing's Miss Sara Sampson treated the same theme: whilst the Merchant of London exhibited a misguided youth in the most terrible situation. The French dramas had the same end, but proceeded more moderately, and contrived to please by some accommodation at the end. Diderot's Père de Famille, the Honourable Criminal, the Vinegar Dealer, the Philosopher without knowing it, Eugenie, and other works of the sort, suited that honest feeling of citizen and family which began more and more to prevail. With us, the Grateful Son, the Deserter from Parental Love, and all of their kin, went the same way. The Minister, Clementini, and other pieces by Gehler, the German Father of a Family, by Gemming, all brought agreeably to view the worth of the middle and even of the lower class, and delighted the great public. Eckhof by his noble personality, which gave to the actor's profession a dignity in which it had hitherto been deficient, elevated to an uncommon degree the leading characters in such pieces, since, as an honest man, the expression of honesty succeeded with him to perfection.
While now the German theatre was completely inclining to effeminacy, Schröder arose as an author and actor, and prompted by the connexion between Hamburg and England, adapted some English comedies. The material of these he could only use in the most general way, since the originals are for the most part formless, and if they begin well and according to a certain plan, they wander from the mark at last. The sole concern of their authors seems to be the introduction of the oddest scenes; and whoever is accustomed to a sustained work of art, at last unwillingly finds himself driven into the boundless. Besides this, a wild, immoral, vulgarly dissolute tone so decidedly pervades the whole, to an intolerable degree, that it must have been difficult to deprive the plan and the characters of all their bad manners. They are a coarse and at the same time dangerous food, which can only be enjoyed and digested by a large and half-corrupted populace at a certain time. Schröder did more for these things than is usually known; he thoroughly altered them, assimilated them to the German mind, and softened them as much as possible. But still a bitter kernel always remains in them, because the joke often depends on the ill-usage of persons, whether they deserve it or not. In these performances, which were also widely spread upon our stage, lay a secret counterpoise to that too delicate morality; and the action of both kinds of drama against each other fortunately prevented the monotony into which people would otherwise have fallen.
Schroeder's Adaptation of English Comedies.
The German, kind and magnanimous by nature, likes to see no one ill-treated. But as no man, however well he thinks, is secure that something may not be put upon him against his inclination, and as, moreover, comedy in general, if it is to please, always presupposes or awakens something of malice in the spectator, so, by a natural path, did people come to a conduct which hitherto had been deemed unnatural: this consisted in lowering the higher classes, and more or less attacking them. Satire, whether in prose or verse, had always avoided touching the court and nobility. Rabener refrained from all jokes in that direction, and remained in a lower circle. Zachariä occupies himself much with country noblemen, comically sets forth their tastes and peculiarities, but this is done without contempt. Thümmel's Wilhelmine, an ingenious little composition, as pleasant as it is bold, gained great applause, perhaps because the author, himself a nobleman and courtier, treated his own class unsparingly. But the boldest step was taken by Lessing, in his Emilia Galotti, where the passions and intrigues of the higher classes are delineated in a bitter and cutting manner. All these things perfectly corresponded to the excited spirit of the time; and men of less mind and talent thought they might do the same, or even more; as indeed Grossmann, in six unsavoury dishes, served up to the malicious public all the tidbits of his vulgar kitchen. An honest man, Hofrath Reinhardt, was the major-domo at this unpleasant board, to the comfort and edification of all the guests. From this time forward the theatrical villains were always chosen from the higher ranks; and a person must be a gentleman of the bedchamber, or at least a private secretary, to be worthy of such a distinction. But for the most godless examples, the highest offices and places in the court and civil list were chosen, in which high society, even the justiciaries, found their place as villains of the first water.
But as I must fear already that I have been carried beyond the time which is now the subject in hand, I return back to myself, to mention the impulse which I felt to occupy myself in my leisure hours with the theatrical plans which I had once devised.
By my lasting interest in Shakspeare's works, I had so expanded my mind, that the narrow compass of the stage and the short time allotted to a representation, seemed to me by no means sufficient to bring forward something important. The life of the gallant Götz von Berlichingen, written by himself, impelled me into the historic mode of treatment; and my imagination so much extended itself, that my dramatic form also went beyond all theatrical bounds, and sought more and more to approach the living events. I had, as I proceeded, talked circumstantially on this subject with my sister, who was interested, heart and soul, in such things, and renewed this conversation so often, without going to any work, that she at last, growing impatient, and at the same time wishing me well, urgently entreated me not to be always casting my words into the air, but, once for all, to set down upon paper that which must have been so present to my mind. Determined by this impulse, I began one morning to write, without having made any previous sketch or plan. I wrote the first scenes, and in the evening they were read aloud to Cornelia. She gave them much applause, but only conditionally, since she doubted that I should go on so; nay, she even expressed a decided unbelief in my perseverance. This only incited me the more; I wrote on the next day, and also the third. Hope increased with the daily communications, and from step to step everything gained more life, while the matter, moreover, had become thoroughly my own. Thus I kept, without interruption, to my work, which I pursued straight on, looking neither backwards nor forwards, – neither to the right nor to the left; and in about six weeks I had the pleasure to see the manuscript stitched. I communicated it to Merck, who spoke sensibly and kindly about it. I sent it to Herder, who, on the contrary, expressed himself unkindly and severely, and did not fail, in some lampoons written for the occasion, to give me nicknames on account of it. I did not allow myself to be perplexed by this, but took a clear view of my object. The die was now cast, and the only question was how to play the game best. I plainly saw that even here no one would advise me; and, as after some time I could regard my work as if it had proceeded from another hand, I indeed perceived that in my attempt to renounce unity of time and place, I had also infringed upon that higher unity which is so much the more required. Since, without plan or sketch, I had merely abandoned myself to my imagination and to an internal impulse, I had not deviated much at the beginning, and the first acts could fairly pass for what they were intended to be. In the following acts, however, and especially towards the end, I was unconsciously carried along by a wonderful passion While trying to describe Adelheid as amiable, I had fallen in love with her myself, – my pen was involuntarily devoted to her alone, – the interest in her fate gained the preponderance; and as, apart from this consideration. Götz, towards the end, is without activity, and afterwards only returns to an unlucky participation in the Bauernkrieg61 nothing was more natural than that a charming woman should supplant him in the mind of the author, who, casting off the fetters of art, thought to try himself in a new field. This defect, or rather this culpable superfluity, I soon perceived, since the nature of my poetry always impelled me to unity. I now, instead of the biography of Götz and German antiquities, kept my own work in mind, and sought to give it more and more historical and national substance, and to cancel that which was fabulous or merely proceeded from passion. In this I indeed sacrificed much, as the inclination of the man had to yield to the conviction of the artist. Thus, for instance, I had pleased myself highly by malting Adelheid enter into a terrific nocturnal gipsy-scene, and perform wonders by her beautiful presence. A nearer examination banished her; and the love-affair between Franz and his noble, gracious lady, which was very circumstantially carried on in the fourth and fifth acts, was much condensed, and could only be suffered to appear in its chief points.
Goetz von Berlichingen.
Therefore, without altering anything in the first manuscript, which I still actually possess in its original shape, I determined to rewrite the whole, and did this with such activity, that in a few weeks an entirely new-made piece lay before me. I went to work upon this all the quicker, the less my intention was ever to have the second poem printed, as I looked upon this likewise as a mere preparatory exercise, which in future I should again lay at the foundation of a new treatment, to be accomplished with greater industry and deliberation.
When I began to lay before Merck many proposals as to the way in which I should set about this task, he laughed at me, and asked what was the meaning of this perpetual writing and rewriting? The thing, he said, by this means, becomes only different, and seldom better; one must see what effect one thing produces, and then again try something new. "Be in time at the hedge, if you would dry your linen."62 he exclaimed, in the words of the proverb; hesitation and delay only make uncertain men. On the other hand, I replied to him that it would be unpleasant to me to offer to a bookseller a work on which I had bestowed so much affection, and perhaps to receive a refusal as an answer; for how would they judge of a young, nameless, and also audacious author? As my dread of the press gradually vanished, I had wished to see printed my comedy Die Mitschuldigen, upon which I set some value, but I found no publisher inclined in my favour.
Here the technically mercantile taste of my friend was at once excited. By means of the Frankfort Zeitung (Gazette), he had already formed a connexion with learned men and booksellers, and therefore he thought that we ought to publish at our own expense this singular and certainly striking work, and that we should derive a larger profit from it. Like many others, he used often to reckon up for the booksellers their profit, which with many works was certainly great, especially if one left out of the account how much was lost by other writings and commercial affairs. Enough, it was settled that I should procure the paper, and that he should take care of the printing. Thus we went heartily to work, and I was not displeased gradually to see my wild dramatic sketch in clean proof-sheets; it looked really neater than I myself expected. We completed the work, and it was sent off in many parcels. Before long a great commotion arose everywhere; the attention which it created became universal. But because, with our limited means, the copies could not be sent quick enough to all parts, a pirated edition suddenly made its appearance. As, moreover, there could be no immediate return, especially in ready money, for the copies sent out, so was I, as a young man in a family whose treasury could not be in an abundant condition, at the very time when much attention, nay, much applause was bestowed upon me, extremely perplexed as to how I should pay for the paper by means of which I had made the world acquainted with my talent. On the other hand, Merck, who knew better how to help himself, entertained the best hopes that all would soon come right again; but I never perceived that to be the ease.
Goetz von Berlichingen.
Through the little pamphlets which I had published anonymously, I had, at my own expense, learned to know the critics and the public; and I was thus pretty well prepared for praise Slid blame, especially as for many years I had constantly folio wed up the subject, and had observed how those authors were treated, to whom I had devoted particular attention.
Here even in my uncertainty, I could plainly remark how much that was groundless, one-sided, and arbitrary, was recklessly uttered. Now the same thing befel me, and if I had not had some basis of my own, how much would the contradictions of cultivated men have perplexed me! Thus, for instance, there was in the German Mercury a diffuse, well-meant criticism, composed by some man of limited mind. Where he found fault, I could not agree with him, – still less when he stated how the affair could have been done otherwise. It was therefore highly gratifying to me, when immediately afterwards I found a pleasant explanation by Wieland, who in general opposed the critic, and took my part against him. However, the former review was printed likewise; I saw an example of the dull state of mind among well-informed and cultivated men. How, then, would it look with the great public!
The pleasure of talking over such things with Merck, and thus gaining light upon them, was of short duration, for the intelligent Landgravine of Hesse-Darmstadt took him with her train on her journey to Petersburg. The detailed letters which he wrote to me gave me a farther insight into the world, which I could the more make my own as the descriptions were made by a well-known and friendly hand. But nevertheless I remained very solitary for a long time, and was deprived just at this important epoch of his enlightening sympathy, of which I then stood in so much need.
Just as one embraces the determination to become a soldier, and go to the wars, and courageously resolves to bear danger and difficulties, as well as to endure wounds and pains, and even death, but at the same time never calls to mind the particular cases in which those generally anticipated evils may surprise us in an extremely unpleasant manner, – so it is with every one who ventures into the world, especially an author; and so it was with me. As the great part of mankind is more excited by a subject than by the treatment of it, so it was to the subject that the sympathy of young men for my pieces was generally owing. They thought they could see in them a banner, under the guidance of which all that is wild and unpolished in youth might find a vent; and those of the very best brains, who had previously harboured a similar crotchet, were thus carried away. I still possess a letter – I know not to whom – from the excellent and, in many respects, unique Bürger, which may serve as an important voucher of the effect and excitement which was then produced by that phenomenon. On the other side, some men blamed me for painting the club-law in too favourable colours, and even attributed to me the intention of bringing those disorderly times back again. Others took me for a profoundly learned man, and wished me to publish a new edition, with notes, of the original narrative of the good Götz; – a task to which I felt by no means adapted, although I allowed my name to be put on the title to the new impression. Because I had understood how to gather the flowers of a great existence, they took me for a careful gardener. However, this learning and profound knowledge of mine were much doubted by others. A respectable man of business quite unexpectedly pays me a visit. I find myself highly honoured by this, especially as he opens his discourse with the praise of my Götz von Berlichingen, and my good insight into German history, but I am nevertheless astonished when I remark that he has really come for the sole purpose of informing me that Götz von Berlichingen was no brother-in-law to Franz von Sichingen, and that therefore by this poetical matrimonial alliance I have committed a great historical error. I sought to excuse myself by the fact, that Götz himself calls him so, but was met by the reply, that this is a form of expression which only denotes a nearer and more friendly connexion, just as in modern times we call postilions "brothers-in-law,"63 without being bound to them by any family tie. I thanked him as well as I could for this information, and only regretted that the evil was now not to be remedied. This was regretted by him also, while he exhorted me in the kindest manner to a further study of the German history and constitution, and offered me his library, of which I afterwards made a good use.
Goetz von Berlichingen.
A droll event of the sort which occurred to me was the visit of a bookseller, who, with cheerful openness, requested a dozen of such pieces, and promised to pay well for them. That we made ourselves very merry about this may be imagined; and yet, in fact, he was not so very far wrong, for I was already greatly occupied in moving backwards and forwards from this turning-point in German history, and in working up the chief events in a similar spirit – a laudable design, which, like many others, was frustrated by the rushing flight of time.
That play, however, had not solely occupied the author, but while it was devised, written, rewritten, printed, and circulated, other images and plans were moving in his mind. Those which could be treated dramatically had the advantage of being oftenest thought over and brought near to execution; but at the same time was developed a transition to another form, which is not usually classed with those of the drama, but yet has a great affinity with them. This transition was chiefly brought about by a peculiarity of the author, which fashioned soliloquy into dialogue.
Accustomed to pass his time most pleasantly in society, he changed even solitary thought into social converse, and this in the following manner: – He had the habit, when he was alone, of calling before his mind any person of his acquaintance. This person he entreated to sit down, walked up and down by him, remained standing before him, and discoursed with him on the subject he had in his mind. To this the person answered as occasion required, or by the ordinary gestures signified his assent or dissent; – in which every man has something peculiar to himself. The speaker then continued to carry out further that which seemed to please the guest, or to condition and define more closely that of which he disapproved; and, finally, was polite enough to give up his notion. The oddest part of the affair was, that he never selected persons of his intimate acquaintance, but those whom he saw but seldom, nay, several who lived at a distance in the world, and with whom he had had a transient connexion. They were, however, chiefly persons who, more of a receptive than communicative nature, are ready with a pure feeling to take interest in the things which fall within their sphere, though he often summoned contradicting spirits to these dialectic exercises. Persons of both sexes, of every age and rank accommodated themselves to these discussions, and showed themselves obliging and agreeable, since he only conversed on subjects which were clear to them, and which they liked. Nevertheless, it would have appeared extremely strange to many of them, could they have learned how often they were summoned to these ideal conversations, since many of them would scarcely have come to a real one.
How nearly such a mental dialogue is akin to a written correspondence, is clear enough; only in the latter one sees returned the confidence one has bestowed, while in the former, one creates for oneself a confidence which is new, ever-changing, and unreturned. When, therefore, he had to describe that disgust which men, without being driven by necessity, feel for life, the author necessarily hit at once upon the plan of giving his sentiments in letters; for all gloominess is a birth, a pupil of solitude – whoever resigns himself to it flies all opposition, and what is more opposed to him than a cheerful society? The enjoyment in life felt by others is to him a painful reproach; and thus, by that which should charm him out of himself, he is directed back to his inmost soul. If he at all expresses himself on this matter, it will be by letters; for no one feels immediately opposed to a written effusion, whether it be joyful or gloomy, while an answer containing opposite reasons gives the lonely one an opportunity to confirm himself in his whims, – an occasion to grow still more obdurate. The letters of Werther, which are written in this spirit, have so various a charm, precisely because their different contents were first talked over with several individuals in such ideal dialogues, while it was afterwards in the composition itself that they appeared to be directed to one friend and sympathizer. To say more on the treatment of a little book which has formed the subject of so much discussion, would be hardly advisable, but, with respect to the contents, something may yet be added.
