The outstanding feature of the remarkable "Conversations with
Eckermann" is this, that the compilation furnishes an
altogether unique record of the working of Goethe's mature
mind. For Goethe's age at the period when the "Conversations"
begin is seventy-three, and eighty-two when they end. John
Peter Eckermann published his work in 1836. In 1848 appeared
an additional portion. Eckermann, born at Winsen, in Hanover,
was the son of a woollen draper. He received an excellent
education, and studied art, under Ramber, in Hanover, but soon
became enamoured of poetry through the influence of Körner and
of Goethe. He became the intimate friend of Goethe, and lived
with him for several years. In describing the friendship,
Eckermann says, "My relation to him was peculiar, and of a
very intimate kind. It was that of the scholar to the master,
of the son to the father, of the poor in culture to the rich
in culture. His conversation was as varied as his works.
Winter and summer, age and youth, seemed with him to be
engaged in a perpetual strife and change." Goethe was one of
the world's most brilliant conversationalists, ranking in this
respect with Coleridge.
_I.--On Poets and Poetry_
_Weimar, June_ 10, 1823. I reached here a few days ago, but have not
seen Goethe until to-day. He gave me a most cordial reception. I esteem
this the most fortunate day of my life. Goethe was dressed in a blue
frock-coat. He is a sublime figure. His first words were concerning my
manuscript. "I have just come from _you_" said he. He meant that he had
been reading it all the morning. He commented it enthusiastically. We
talked long together. But I could say little for I could not look at him
enough, with his strong, brown face, full of wrinkles, each wrinkle
being full of expression. He spoke like some old monarch. We parted
affectionately, for every word of his breathed kindness.
_Jena, September_ 8, 1823. Yesterday morning I had the happiness of
another interview with Goethe. What he said to me was quite important,
and will have a beneficial influence on all my life. All the young poets
of Germany should have the benefit of it. "Do not," said he, "attempt to
produce a great work. It is just this mistake which has done harm to our
best minds. I have myself suffered from this error. What have I not
dropped into the well! The present must assert its rights, and so the
poet will and should give out what presses on him. But if one has a
great work in his head, it expels everything else and deprives life for
the time of all comfort. If as to the whole you err, all time and
trouble are lost. But if the poet daily grasps the present, treating
with fresh sentiment what it offers, he always makes sure of something
good. If sometimes he does not succeed, at any rate he has lost nothing.
The world is so great and rich, and life is so manifold, that occasions
for poems are never lacking. But they must all be poems for special
occasions (_Gelegenheitsgedichte_). All my poems are thus suggested by
incidents in real life. I attach no value to poems snatched out of the
air. You know Furnstein, the so-called poet of nature? He has written
the most fascinating poem possible on hop-culture. I have suggested to
him that he should write songs on handicrafts, especially a weaver's
song, for he has spent his life from youth amongst such folk, and he
understands the subject through and through."
_February_ 24, 1824. At one to-day I went to Goethe's. He showed me a
short critique he had written on Byron's "Cain," which I read with much
interest. "We see," said he, "how the defectiveness of ecclesiastical
dogmas affects such a mind as Byron's, and how by such a piece he seeks
to emancipate himself from doctrine which has been thrust on him. Truly
the English clergy will not thank him, but I shall wonder whether he
will not proceed to treat Bible subjects, not letting slip such topics
as the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah."
_II.--Philosophical Discussions_
_February_ 25, 1824. Goethe was in high spirits at table. He showed me
Frau von Spiegel's album, in which he had written some very beautiful
verses. For two years a place had been left open for him, and he was
delighted that at length he had been able to fulfil an old promise.
Noticing on another page of the album a poem by Tiedge in the style of
his "Urania," Goethe observed that he had suffered considerably from
Tiedge's "Urania," for at one time nothing else was sung and recited.
Said he, "Wherever you went, you found 'Urania' on the table, and that
poem and immortality were the subjects of every conversation. By no
means would I lose the happiness of believing in a future existence, and
indeed I would say with Lorenzo de Medici that all they are dead, even
for this life, who believe in no other.
"But such incomprehensible matters lie too far off to be a theme of
daily meditation and thought-distracting speculation. And further, let
him who believes in immortality be happy in silence; he has no reason to
hold his head high because of his conviction. Silly women, priding
themselves on believing with Tiedge in immortality, have been offended
at my declaring that in the future state I hoped I should meet none of
those who had believed in it here. For how I should be tormented! The
pious would crowd about me, saying, 'Were we not right? Did we not
predict it? Has it not turned out exactly so?' And thus even up yonder
there would be everlasting ennui."
_April_ 14, 1824. I went, about one, for a walk with Goethe. We
conversed on the style of different authors. Said he, "Philosophical
speculation is, on the whole, a hindrance to the Germans, for it tends
to induce a tendency to obscurantism. The nearer they approach to
certain philosophical schools, the worse they write. Those Germans write
best who, as business men, and men of real life, confine themselves to
the practical. Thus, Schiller's style is the noblest and most
impressive, as soon as he ceases to philosophise, as I see from his
highly interesting letters, on which I am now busy. Many of our genial
German women in their style excel even many of our famous male writers.
"The French, in their style, are consistent with their general
character. They are sociable by nature and as such never forget the
public whom they address. They take the trouble to be clear in order to
convince, and agreeable in order to please. The English, as a rule,
write well, as born orators and as practical and realistic men.
Altogether, the style of a writer is a true reflection of his mind. If
anyone would acquire a lucid style, let him first be clear in his
thoughts; if he would command a noble style, he must first possess a
noble character."
_May_ 2, 1824. During a drive over the hills through Upper Weimar we
could not look enough at the trees in blossom. We remarked that trees
full of white blossom should not be painted, because they make no
picture, just as birches with their foliage are unfit for the foreground
of a picture, because the delicate foliage does not adequately balance
the white trunk. Said Goethe, "Ruysdael never placed a foliaged birch in
the foreground, but only broken birch stems, without leaves. Such a
trunk suits the foreground admirably, for its bright form stands out
most powerfully."
After some slight discussion of other subjects, we talked of the
erroneous tendency of such artists as would make religion art, while
their art ought to be religion. Goethe observed, "Religion stands in the
same relation to art as every other higher interest of life. It is
merely to be regarded as a material, which has equal claims with all
other vital materials. Also, faith and unbelief are not those organs
with which a work of art is to be comprehended. Far otherwise; totally
different human powers and capacities are required for such
comprehension. Art must appeal to those organs with which we can
apprehend it, or it misses its aim. A religious material may be a good
subject for art, but only if it possesses general human interest. Thus,
the Virgin with the Child is a good subject that may be treated a
hundred times, and will always be seen again with pleasure."
_November_ 24, 1824. In a conversation this evening concerning Roman and
Greek history, Goethe said, "Roman history is certainly no longer suited
to our time. We have become too humane for the triumphs of Cæsar to be
anything but repellent to us. So also does Greek history offer little to
allure us. The resistance to a foreign enemy is indeed glorious, but the
constant civil wars of states against each other are intolerable.
Besides, the history of our own time is overwhelmingly important. The
battles of Leipzig and Waterloo eclipse Marathon, and such heroes as
Blücher and Wellington are rivals of those of antiquity."
_III.--Literary Dicta_
_January_ 10, 1825. In accordance with his deep interest in the English,
Goethe requested me to introduce to him the young Englishmen staying
here. I took this afternoon Mr. H., a young English officer, who, in the
course of the conversation, mentioned that he was reading "Faust," but
found it somewhat difficult.
Said Goethe, laughing, "Really, I should not have recommended you to
undertake 'Faust.' It is mad stuff, and goes beyond all usual feeling.
But as you have done it of your own accord, without asking me, you will
see how you get through. Faust is so strange an individual that only a
few persons can sympathise with his inner condition. Then the character
of Mephistopheles is also very difficult, because of his irony, and also
because he is the living result of an extensive acquaintance with the
world. But you will see what light comes to you.
"'Tasso,' on the other hand, lies far nearer to the common feeling of
mankind, and the elaboration of its form is favourable to an easier
understanding of it. What is chiefly needed for reading 'Tasso' is that
one should be no longer a child, and should not have been deprived of
good society."
_October_ 15, 1825. I found Goethe this evening in a very elevated mood,
and had the happiness of hearing from him many significant observations.
Concerning the state of the newest literature, he said, "Want of
character in individual investigators and writers is the source of all
the evils in our most recent literature. Till now the world believed in
the heroism of Lucretia and of Mucius Scævola, and allowed itself thus
to be stimulated and inspired. But now comes historical criticism, and
says that those persons never lived, but are to be regarded as fables
and fictions, imagined by the great mind of the Romans. What are we to
do with so pitiful a truth? And if the Romans were great enough to
invent such stories, we should at least be great enough to believe
them."
_December_ 25, 1825. I found Goethe alone this evening, and passed with
him some delightful hours. The conversation at one time turned on Byron,
especially on the disadvantage at which he appears when compared with
the innocent cheerfulness of Shakespeare, and on the frequent and
usually not unmerited blame which he drew on himself by his manifold
works of negation. Said Goethe, "If Byron had had the opportunity of
working off all the opposition that was in him, by delivering many
strong speeches in parliament, he would have been far purer as a poet.
But as he scarcely ever spoke in parliament, he kept in his heart all
that he felt against his nation, and no other means than poetical
expression of his sentiments remained to him. I could therefore style a
great part of his works of negation suppressed parliamentary speeches,
and I think the characterisation would suit them well."
_IV.--"Faust" and Victor Hugo_
_May_ 6, 1827. At a dinner-party at Goethe's, after conversation on
certain poems, he said, "The Germans are certainly strange people. They
make life much more burdensome to themselves than they ought by their
deep thoughts and ideas, which they seek everywhere and fix on
everything. Only have the courage to surrender yourself to your
impressions, permit yourself to be moved, instructed and inspired for
something great. But never imagine that all is vanity, if it is not
abstract thought and idea.
"Next they come and ask what idea I meant to embody in my 'Faust'? As if
I knew that myself, and could inform them. _From Heaven through the
world to hell_ would, indeed, be something; but that is no idea, only a
course of action. And further, that the devil loses the wager, and that
a man, continually struggling from difficult errors towards something
better, should be redeemed, is truly a more effective, and to many a
good, enlightening thought; but it is no idea lying at the basis of the
whole, and of each individual scene. It would have been a fine thing,
indeed, if I had strung so rich and diversified a life as I have brought
to view in 'Faust' upon the slender thread of one single, pervading
idea.
"It was altogether out of my province, as a poet, to strive to embody
anything abstract. I received in my mind impressions of an animated,
charming, hundredfold kind, just as a lively imagination presented them;
and as a poet I had nothing more to do than artistically to elaborate
these impressions, and so to present them that others might receive like
impressions. But I am somewhat of the opinion that the more
incommensurable, and the more incomprehensible to the understanding a
poetic production is, so much the better it is."
_June_ 20, 1831. At Goethe's, after dinner, the conversation fell upon
the use and misuse of terms. Said he, "The French use the word
'composition' inappropriately. The expression is degrading as applied to
genuine productions of art and poetry. It is a thoroughly contemptible
word, of which we should seek to get rid as soon as possible.
"How can one say, Mozart has _composed_ 'Don Juan'! Composition! As if
it were a piece of cake or biscuit, which had been mixed together with
eggs, flour, and sugar! It is a spiritual creation, in which the details
as well as the whole are pervaded by _one_ spirit. Consequently, the
producer did not follow his own experimental impulse, but acted under
that of his demoniac genius."
_June_ 27, 1831. We conversed about Victor Hugo. "He has a fine talent,"
said Goethe. "But he is altogether ensnared in the unhappy romantic
tendency of his time, by which he is constrained to represent, side by
side with the beautiful, the most hateful and intolerable. I have
recently read his 'Notre Dame de Paris,' and needed no little patience
to endure the horror that I felt. It is the most abominable book ever
written! And one is not even compensated by truthful representation of
human nature or character. On the contrary, his book is totally
destitute of nature and truth. The so-called acting personages whom he
brings forward are not men with living flesh and blood, but miserable
wooden puppets, moved according to his fancy and made to produce all
sorts of contortions and grimaces. But what kind of an age is this,
which not only makes such a book possible, but even finds it endurable
and delightful!"
_V.--On the Bible_
_Sunday, March_ 11, 1832. This evening for an hour Goethe talked on
various excellent topics. I had purchased an English Bible, but found to
my great regret that it did not include the Apocrypha, because these
were not considered genuine and divinely inspired. I missed the truly
noble Tobias, the wisdom of Solomon and Jesus Sirach, all writings of
such deeply spiritual value, that few others equal them. I expressed to
Goethe my regret at the narrow exclusiveness thus manifested. He
entirely agreed with me.
"Still," said he, "there are two points of view from which Biblical
subjects may be regarded. There is that of primitive religion, of pure
nature and reason, which is of divine origin. This will ever remain the
same, and will endure as long as divinely endowed beings exist. It is,
however, only for the elect, and is far too high and noble to become
universal.
"Then there is the point of view of the Church, which is of a more human
nature. This is fallible and fickle, but, though perpetually changing,
it will last as long as there are weak human beings. The light of
cloudless divine revelation is far too pure and radiant for poor, weak
man. But the Church interposes as mediator, to soften and moderate, and
all are helped. Its influence is immense, through the notion that as
successor of Christ it can relieve the burden of human sin. To secure
this power, and to consolidate ecclesiasticism is the special aim of the
Christian priesthood.
"Therefore it does not so much ask whether this or that book in the
Bible effects a great enlightenment of the mind, it much more looks to
the Mosaic and prophetic and Gospel records for allusions to the fall of
man, and the advent to earth and death of Christ, as the atonement for
sin. Thus you see that for such purposes the noble Tobias, the wisdom of
Solomon, and the sayings of Sirach have little weight.
"Still, the question as to authenticity in details of the Bible is truly
singular. What is genuine but the really excellent, which harmonises
with the purest reason and nature, and even now ministers to our highest
development? What is spurious but the absurd, hollow, and stupid, which
brings no worthy fruit? If the authenticity of a Biblical writing
depends on the question whether something true throughout has been
handed down to us, we might on some points doubt the genuineness of the
Gospels, of which Mark and Luke were not written from immediate presence
and experience, but long afterwards from oral tradition. And the last,
by the disciple John, was written in his old age.
"Yet I hold all four evangelists as thoroughly genuine, for there is in
them the reflection of a greatness which emanated from the person of
Jesus, such as only once has appeared on earth. If anyone asks whether
it is in my nature to pay Him devout reverence, I say--'Surely, yes!' I
bow before Him as the divine revelation of the highest principle of
morality. If I am asked whether it is in my nature to revere the sun,
again I say--'Surely, yes!' For the sun is also a manifestation of the
highest, and, indeed, the mightiest which we children of earth are
allowed to behold. But if I am asked whether I am inclined to bow before
a thumb-bone of the apostle Peter or Paul, I say, 'Spare me, and stand
off with your absurdities!'
"Says the apostle, 'Quench not the spirit.' The high and richly-endowed
clergy fear nothing so much as the enlightenment of the lower orders.
They withheld the Bible from them as long as possible. What can a poor
member of the Christian church think of the princely pomp of a richly
endowed bishop, when against this he sees in the Gospels the poverty of
Christ, travelling humbly on foot with His disciples, while the princely
bishop drives along in a carriage drawn by six horses!
"We do not at all know," continued Goethe, "all that we owe to Luther
and the Reformation generally. We are emancipated from the fetters of
spiritual narrowness. In consequence of our increasing culture, we have
become capable of reverting to the fountain-head, and of comprehending
Christianity in its purity. We have again the courage to stand with firm
feet upon God's earth, and to realise our divinely endowed human nature.
Let spiritual culture ever go on advancing, let the natural sciences go
on ever gaining in breadth and depth, and let the human mind expand as
it may, it will never go beyond the elevation and moral culture of
Christianity as it shines and gleams in the Gospel!
"But the more effectually we Protestants advance in our noble
development, so much the more rapidly will the Catholics follow. As soon
as they feel themselves caught in the current of enlightenment, they
must go on to the point where all is but one.
"The mischievous sectism of Protestantism will also cease, and with it
alienation between father and son, brother and sister. For as soon as
the pure teaching and love of Christ, as they really are, are
comprehended and consistently practised, we shall realise our humanity
as great and free, and cease to attach undue importance to mere outward
form.
"Furthermore, we shall all gradually advance from a Christianity of word
and faith to one of feeling and action."
The conversation next turned on the question how far God is influencing
the great natures of the present world. Said Goethe, "If we notice how
people talk, we might almost believe them to be of opinion that God had
withdrawn into silence since that old time before Christ, and that man
was now placed on his own feet, and must see how he can get on without
God. In religious and moral matters a divine influence is still
admitted, but in matters of science and art it is insisted that they are
merely earthly, and nothing more than a product of pure human powers.
"But now let anyone only attempt with human will and human capabilities
to produce something comparable with the creations that bear the names
of Mozart, Raphael, or Shakespeare. I know right well that these three
noble men are not the only ones, and that in every department of art
innumerable excellent minds have laboured, who have produced results as
perfectly good as those mentioned. But, if they were as great as those,
they transcended ordinary human nature, and were in just the same degree
divinely gifted."
Goethe was silent, but I cherished his great and good words in my heart.
* * * * *