rich man, who possessed a very handsome house by the Horse-market, and
derived a good income from salt-pits. He also lived quite secluded: but
in summer he was a great deal in his garden, near the Bockenheim gate,
where he watched and tended a very fine plot of pinks.
Von Reineck was likewise an amateur of pinks; the season of flowering
had come, and suggestions were made as to whether these two could not
visit each other. We introduced the matter, and persisted in it, till
at last Von Reineck resolved to go out with us one Sunday afternoon.
The greeting of the two old gentlemen was very laconic, indeed, almost
pantomimic, and they walked up and down by the long pink frames with
true diplomatic strides. The display was really extraordinarily
beautiful, and the particular forms and colours of the different
flowers, the advantages of one over the other, and their rarity, gave
at last occasion to a sort of conversation which appeared to get quite
friendly; at which we others rejoiced the more because we saw the most
precious old Rhine wine in cut decanters, fine fruits, and other good
things spread upon a table in a neighbouring bower. But these, alas,
we were not to enjoy. For Von Reineck unfortunately saw a very fine
pink with its head somewhat hanging down; he therefore took the stalk
near the calyx very cautiously between his fore and middle fingers,
and lifted the flower so that he could well inspect it. But even this
gentle handling vexed the owner. Von Malapert courteously, indeed, but
stiffly enough, and somewhat self-complacently, reminded him of the
_Oculis, non manibus._[6] Von Reineck had already let go the flower,
but at once took fire at the words, and said in his usual dry, serious
manner, that it was quite consistent with an amateur to touch and
examine them in such a manner. Whereupon he repeated the act, and took
the flower again between his fingers. The friends of both parties--for
Von Malapert also had one present--were now in the greatest perplexity.
They set one hare to catch another (that was our proverbial expression,
when a conversation was to be interrupted, and turned to another
subject), but it would not do; the old gentleman had become quite
silent, and we feared every moment that Von Reineck would repeat the
act, when it would be all over with us. The two friends kept their
principals apart by occupying them, now here, now there, and at last
we found it most expedient to make preparation for departure. Thus,
alas! we were forced to turn our backs on the inviting side-board, yet
unenjoyed.
[Side-note: Frankfort Characters - Hofrath Huisgen.]
HOFRATH HUISGEN, not born in Frankfort, of the reformed[7] religion,
and therefore incapable of public office, including the profession
of advocate, which, however, because much confidence was placed in
him as an excellent jurist, he managed to exercise quietly, both in
the Frankfort and the imperial courts, under assumed signatures, was
already sixty years old when I took writing lessons with his son, and
so came into his house. His figure was tall without being thin, and
broad without corpulency. You could not look, for the first time, on
his face, which was not only disfigured by smallpox, but deprived
of an eye, without apprehension. He always wore on his bald head a
perfectly white bell-shaped cap, tied at the top with a ribbon. His
morning-gowns, of calamanco or damask, were always very clean. He
dwelt in a very cheerful suite, of rooms on the ground-floor by the
_Allée_, and the neatness of everything about him corresponded with
this cheerfulness. The perfect arrangement of his papers, books, and
maps, produced a favourable impression. His son Heinrich Sebastian,
afterwards known by various writings on Art, gave little promise in
his youth. Good-natured but dull, not rude but blunt, and without
any special liking for instruction, he rather sought to avoid the
presence of his father, as he could get all he wanted from his mother.
I, on the other hand, grew more and more intimate with the old man,
the more I knew of him. As he attended only to important cases, he
had time enough to occupy and amuse himself in another manner. I
had not long frequented his house, and heard his doctrines, than I
could well perceive that he stood in opposition to God and the world.
One of his favourite books was _Agrippa de Vanitate Scientiarum_,
which he especially commended to me, and so set my young brains in a
considerable whirl for a long time. In the happiness of youth I was
inclined to a sort of optimism, and had again pretty well reconciled
myself with God or the Gods; for the experience of a series of years
had taught me that there was much to counterbalance evil, that one can
well recover from misfortune, and that one may be saved from dangers
and need not always break one's neck. I looked with tolerance, too, on
what men did and pursued, and found many things worthy of praise which
my old gentleman could not by any means abide. Indeed, once when he had
sketched the world to me, rather from the distorted side, I observed
from his appearance that he meant to close the game with an important
trump-card. He shut tight his blind left eye, as he was wont to do in
such cases, looked sharp out of the other, and said in a nasal voice,
"Even in God I discover defects."
My Timonic mentor was also a mathematician, but his practical turn
drove him to mechanics, though he did not work himself. A clock,
wonderful indeed in those days, which indicated not only the days
and hours, but the motions of the sun and moon, he caused to be made
according to his own plan. On Sunday, about ten o'clock in the morning,
he always wound it up himself, which he could do the more regularly, as
he never went to church. I never saw company nor guests at his house;
and only twice in ten years do I remember to have seen him dressed and
walking out of doors.
My various conversations with these men were not insignificant, and
each of them influenced me in his own way. From every one I had as
much attention as his own children, if not more, and each strove to
increase his delight in me as in a beloved son, while he aspired to
mould me into his moral counterpart. Olenschlager would have made me a
courtier, Von Reineck a diplomatic man of business; both, the latter
particularly, sought to disgust me with poetry and authorship. Huisgen
wished me to be a Timon after his fashion, but, at the same time, an
able juris-consult; a necessary profession, as he thought, with which
one could in a regular manner defend oneself and friends against the
rabble of mankind, succour the oppressed, and above all, pay off a
rogue; though the last is neither especially practicable nor advisable.
But if I liked to be at the side of these men to profit by their
counsels and directions, younger persons, only a little older
than myself, roused me to immediate emulation. I name here before
all others, the brothers SCHLOSSER and GRIESBACH. But, as I came
subsequently into a more intimate connexion with these, which lasted
for many years uninterruptedly, I will only say for the present, that
they were then praised as being distinguished in languages and other
studies which opened the academical course, and held up as models, and
that everybody cherished the certain expectation that they would once
do something uncommon in church and state.
With respect to myself, I also had it in my mind to produce something
extraordinary, but in what it was to consist was not clear. But as we
are apt to think rather upon the reward which may be received than
upon the merit which is to be acquired, so, I do not deny, that if I
thought of a desirable piece of good fortune, it appeared to me most
fascinating in the shape of that laurel garland which is woven to adorn
the poet.
[1] The names of the sharp notes in German terminate in "is," and hence
"f" and "g" sharp are called "fis" and "gis."
[2] These are the technical names for classes of accents in the Hebrew
grammar.--_Trans._
[3] It should be observed that in this Biblical narrative, when we
have used the expressions "Deity," "Godhead," or "Divinity," Goethe
generally has "die Götter," or "the Gods."--_Trans,_
[4] Every kingdom divided against itself shall be brought to
desolation; for the princes thereof have become the associates of
robbers.--_Trans._.
[5] Racine's tragedy.--_Trans._
[6] Eyes, not hands.--_Trans._
[7] That is to say, he was a Calvinist, as distinguished from a
Lutheran.--_Trans._
FIFTH BOOK.
Every bird has its decoy, and every man is led and misled in a way
peculiar to himself. Nature, education, circumstances, and habit kept
me apart from all that was rude; and though I often came into contact
with the lower classes of people, particularly mechanics, no close
connexion grew out of it. I had indeed boldness enough to undertake
something uncommon and perhaps dangerous, and many times felt disposed
to do so; but I was without the handle by which to grasp and hold it.
Meanwhile I was quite unexpectedly involved in an affair which brought
me near to a great hazard, and at least for a long time into perplexity
and distress. The good terms on which I before stood with the boy whom
I have already named Pylades was maintained up to the time of my youth.
We indeed saw each other less often, because our parents did not stand
on the best footing with each other; but when we did meet, the old
raptures of friendship broke out immediately. Once we met in the alleys
which offer a very agreeable walk between the outer and inner gate of
Saint Gallus. We had scarcely returned greetings, than he said to me,
"I hold to the same opinion as ever about your verses. Those which you
recently communicated to me, I read aloud to some pleasant companions,
and not one of them will believe that you have made them." "Let it
pass," I answered; "we will make them and enjoy them, and the others
may think and say of them what they please."
"There comes the unbeliever now," added my friend. "We will not speak
of it," I replied; "what is the use of it? one cannot convert them."
"By no means," said my friend; "I cannot let the affair pass off in
this way."
After a short and indifferent conversation, my young comrade, who was
but too well disposed towards me, could not suffer the matter to drop,
without saying to the other, with some resentment, "Here is my friend
who made those pretty verses, for which you will not give him credit!"
"He will certainly not be offended at that," answered the other, "for
we do him an honour when we suppose that more learning is required to
make such verses than one of his years can possess." I replied with
something indifferent; but my friend continued, "It will not cost
much labour to convince you. Give him any theme, and he will make you
a poem on the spot." I assented, we were agreed, and the other asked
me whether I would venture to compose a pretty love-letter in rhyme,
which a modest young woman might be supposed to write to a young man,
to declare her inclination. "Nothing is easier than that," I answered,
"if I only had writing materials." He pulled out his pocket almanac,
in which there were a great many blank leaves, and I sat down upon a
bench to write. They walked about in the meanwhile, but always kept
me in sight. I immediately brought the required situation before my
mind, and thought how agreeable it must be if some pretty girl were
really attached to me, and would reveal her sentiments to me, either in
prose or verse. I therefore began my declaration with delight, and in
a little while executed it in a flowing measure, between doggerel and
madrigal, with the greatest possible _naïveté_, and in such a way that
the sceptic was overcome with admiration, and my friend with delight.
The request of the former to possess the poem I could the less refuse,
as it was-written in his almanac; and I willingly saw the documentary
evidence of my capabilities in his hands. He departed-with many
assurances of admiration and respect, and wished for nothing more than
that we should often meet; so we settled soon to go together into the
country.
Our party actually took place, and was joined by several more young
people of the same rank. They were men of the middle, or, if you
please, of the lower class, who were not wanting in brains, and who
moreover, as they had gone through school, were possessed of various
knowledge and a certain degree of culture. In a large, rich city there
are many modes of gaining a livelihood. These got on by copying for the
lawyers, and by advancing the children of the lower order more than is
usual in common schools. With grown-up children, who were about to be
confirmed, they went through the religious courses; then, again, they
assisted factors and merchants in some way, and were thus enabled to
enjoy themselves frugally in the evenings, and particularly on Sundays
and festivals.
[Side-note: First Acquaintance With Gretchen.]
On the way there, while they highly extolled my love-letter, they
confessed to me that they had made a very merry use of it, viz.--that
it had been copied in a feigned hand, and, with a few pertinent
allusions, had been sent to a conceited young man, who was now firmly
persuaded that a lady to whom he had paid distant court was excessively
enamoured of him, and sought an opportunity for closer acquaintance.
They at the same time told me in confidence, that he desired nothing
more now than to be able to answer her in verse; but that neither he
nor they were skilful enough, so that they earnestly solicited me to
compose the much-desired reply.
Mystifications are and will continue to be an amusement for idle
people, whether more or less ingenious. A venial wickedness, a
self-complacent malice, is an enjoyment for those who have neither
resources in themselves nor a wholesome external activity. No age is
quite exempt from such pruriences. We had often tricked each other in
our childish years; many sports turn upon mystification and trick. The
present jest did not seem to me to go further; I gave my consent. They
imparted to me many particulars which the letter ought to contain, and
we brought it home already finished.
A little while afterwards I was urgently invited, through my friend,
to take part in one of the evening feasts of that society. The lover,
he said, was willing to bear the expense on this occasion, and desired
expressly to thank the friend who had shown himself so excellent a
poetical secretary.
We came together late enough, the meal was most frugal, the wine
drinkable: while as for the conversation, it turned almost entirely
on jokes upon the young man, who was present, and certainly not very
bright, and who, after repeated readings of the letter, almost believed
that he had written it himself.
My natural good-nature would not allow me to take much pleasure in such
a malicious deception, and the repetition of the same subject soon
disgusted me. I should certainly have passed a tedious evening, if an
unexpected apparition had not revived me. On our arrival the table
had already been neatly and orderly covered, and sufficient wine had
been put on; we sat down and remained alone, without requiring further
service. As there was, however, a want of wine at last, one of them
called for the maid; but instead of the maid there came in a girl of
uncommon, and, when one saw her with all around her, of incredible
beauty. "What do you desire?" she asked, after having cordially wished
us a good evening; "the maid is ill in bed. Can I serve you?" "The wine
is out," said one; "if you would fetch us a few bottles, it would be
very kind." "Do it, Gretchen,"[1] said another, "it is but a cat's leap
from here." "Why not?" she answered, and taking a few empty bottles
from the table, she hastened out. Her form, as seen from behind, was
almost more elegant. The little cap sat so neatly upon her little
head, which a slender throat united very gracefully to her neck and
shoulders. Everything about her seemed choice, and one could survey her
whole form the more at ease, as one's attention was no more exclusively
attracted and fettered by the quiet, honest eyes and lovely mouth.
I reproved my comrades for sending the girl out alone at night, but
they only laughed at me, and I was soon consoled by her return, as the
publican lived only just across the way. "Sit down with us, in return,"
said one. She did so; but, alas, she did not come near me. She drank
a glass to our health, and speedily departed, advising us not to stay
very long together, and not to be so noisy, as her mother was just
going to bed. It was not, however, her own mother, but the mother of
our hosts.
The form of that girl followed me from that moment on every path; it
was the first durable impression which a female being had made upon me;
and as I could find no pretext to see her at home, and would not seek
one, I went to church for love of her, and had soon traced out where
she sat. Thus, during the long Protestant service, I gazed my fill at
her. When the congregation left the church I did not venture to accost
her, much less to accompany her, and was perfectly delighted if she
seemed to have remarked me and to have returned my greeting with a
nod. Yet I was not long denied the happiness of approaching her. They
had persuaded the lover, whose poetical secretary I had been, that
the letter written in his name had been actually despatched to the
lady, and had strained to the utmost his expectations that an answer
must soon come. This, also, I was to write, and the waggish company
entreated me earnestly, through Pylades, to exert all my wit and employ
all my art, in order that this piece might be quite elegant and perfect.
[Side-note: Gretchen's Advice.]
In the hope of again seeing my fair one, I went immediately to work,
and thought of everything that would be in the highest degree pleasing
if Gretchen were writing it to me. I imagined I had written out
everything so completely from her form, her nature, her manner, and
her mind, that I could not refrain from wishing that it were so in
reality, and lost myself in rapture at the mere thought that something
similar could be sent from her to me. Thus I mystified myself, while
I intended to impose upon another; and much joy and much trouble was
yet to arise out of the affair. When I was once more summoned, I had
finished, promised to come, and did not fail at the appointed hour.
There was only one of the young people at home; Gretchen sat at the
window spinning; the mother was going to and fro. The young man desired
that I should read it over to him; I did so, and read not without
emotion, as I glanced over the paper at the beautiful girl; and when I
fancied that I remarked a certain uneasiness in her deportment, and a
gentle flush on her cheeks, I uttered better and with more animation
that which I wished to hear from herself. The cousin, who had often
interrupted me with commendations, at last entreated me to make some
amendments. These affected some passages which indeed were rather
suited to the condition of Gretchen than to that of the lady, who was
of a good family, wealthy, and known and respected in the city. After
the young man had designated the desired changes, and had brought me
an inkstand, but had taken, leave for a short time on account of some
business, I remained sitting on the bench against the wall, behind the
large table, and essayed the alterations that were to be made, on the
large slate, which almost covered the whole table, with a pencil that
always lay in the window, because upon this slate reckonings were often
made, and various memoranda noted down, and those coming in or going
out even communicated with each other.
I had for a-while written different things and rubbed them out again,
when I exclaimed impatiently, "It will not do!" "So much the better,"
said the dear girl, in a grave tone; "I wished that it might not do!
You should not meddle in such matters." She arose from the distaff,
and stepping towards the table, gave me a severe lecture, with a great
deal of good sense and kindliness. "The thing seems an innocent jest;
it is a jest, but it is not innocent. I have already lived to see
several cases, in which our young people, for the sake of such mere
mischief, have brought themselves into great difficulty." "But what
shall I do?" I asked; "the letter is written, and they rely upon me to
alter it." "Trust me," she replied, "and do not alter it; nay, take
it back, put it in your pocket, go away, and try to make the matter
straight through your friend. I will also put in a word; for look you,
though I am a poor girl, and dependent upon these relations,--who
indeed do nothing bad, though they often, for the sake of sport or
profit, undertake a good deal that is rash,--I have resisted them, and
would not copy the first letter, as they requested. They transcribed
it in a feigned hand, and if it is not otherwise, so may they also do
with this. And you, a young man of good family, rich, independent, why
will you allow yourself to be used as a tool in a business which can
certainly bring no good to you, and may possibly bring much that is
unpleasant?" I was glad to hear her speaking thus continuously, for
generally she introduced but few words into conversation. My liking
for her grew incredibly,--I was not master of myself,--and replied, "I
am not so independent as you suppose; and of what use is wealth to me,
when the most precious thing I can desire is wanting?"
She had drawn my sketch of the poetic epistle towards her, and read it
half aloud in a sweet and graceful manner. "That is very pretty," said
she, stopping at a sort of _naïve_ point; "but it is a pity that it is
not destined for a real purpose." "That were indeed very desirable,"
I cried, "and, oh! how happy must he be, who receives from a girl he
infinitely loves, such an assurance of her affection." "There is much
required for that," she answered; "and yet many things are possible."
"For example," I continued, "if any one who knew, prized, honoured,
and adored you, laid such a paper before you, what would you do?" I
pushed the paper nearer to her, which she had previously pushed back to
me. She smiled, reflected for a moment, took the pen, and subscribed
her name. I was beside myself with rapture, sprang up, and would have
embraced her. "No kissing!" said she, "that is so vulgar; but let
us love if we can." I had taken up the paper, and thrust it into my
pocket. "No one shall ever get it," said I; "the affair is closed.
You have saved me." "Now complete the salvation," she exclaimed, "and
hurry off, before the others arrive, and you fall into trouble and
embarrassment." I could not tear myself away from her; but she asked me
in so kindly a manner, while she took my right hand in both of hers,
and lovingly pressed it! The tears stood in my eyes; I thought hers
looked moist. I pressed my face upon her hands and hastened away. Never
in my life had I found myself in such perplexity.
[Side-note: Juvenile Love.]