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abet, 1. Putmarre

 
 
 
 
 
VILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS.

BY

JOHANN WOLFGANG GOETHE.

| Translated fiom the Later and Enlarged Edition of the German,

AND EDITED BY

EDWARD BELL, M.A,

EDITOR OF “SELECTED PROSE WORKS OF G, E, LESSING,” ETC,

| LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS, YORK STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.

1882.
f

|

|

i
LONDON :

PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,

STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.

 
/

a

y

}

]

PREFACE TO THE TRANSLATION.

pens

1 NEED scarcely warn readers who are at all familiar with
Goethe's life and works that this book is in no real sense
a continuation of ¢ Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship.’

Besides the hero, some few of the characters introduced
are the same as in the earlier work, but the story is almost

‘devoid of connected plot, and is used rather as a vehicle

for a number of detached dissertations and apologues, than

(as a presentation of character, or an illustration of life.

For this reason it has been made the subject of adverse

| criticism, and many of the independent sections have been

valued less highly than would have been the case if they
had been offered to the reader in a more artistic setting
and more intelligible association.* But the too evident
want of coherence in the whole, and the defects for which

{the author more than once apologizes, do not deprive its

contents of all value. The book has been severely criticized
by Mr. G. H. Lewes, who speaks of its composition as
“feeble ” and “ careless,” and cites a passage from Ecker-
mann showing that the second edition was purposely
made the receptacle of various odds and ends which very

| possibly would otherwise have remained unprinted. But

even in the siftings of Goethe’s work, many grains of gold

* Various portions of the work were first printed in Wieland’s

¢ “ Taschenbuch fiir Damen,”

 

 

 

 
b

iv PREFACE TO THE TRANSLATION.

may be found; and, apart from the separate interest of
some of the detached pieces, there is sufficient purpose

evident in the whole to give it a concrete value. The
main design is apparently the promulgation of a system

)

) of education and social life, as set forth in the sections

(relating to the Pedagogic Province. Unpractical as this
system may seem, it is not more so than plans which
have been gravely propounded and set afoot in our
own day, and it is safe to predict that in generations to
come there will be found educational reformers who may
read with profit the description of Goethe’s Pedagogic
Utopia.

« Wilhelm Meister’s Travels’ has hitherto been known
to English readers only through Carlyle’s admirable trans- |
lation of the first edition. In the second edition the Ger- :

man text was completely recast and considerably enlarged.
The alterations show signs of haste and carelessness, and
do not improve the work as an artistic whole. On the

other hand, they are not without individual interest. |
The lively and well-written story of the “Man of Fifty,” |
left unfinished in the earlier edition, is interwoven with |

the main narrative, and brought to a more satisfactory
end. Two or three other tales* are introduced, and a
variety of practical subjects—such as mineralogy, astro
nomy, anatomy, spinning, and weaving—are discoursed
on in a way that will give wholesome food for reflexion to
the reader of general culture, if it does not edify the un-
~ theoretical specialist. In these portions the reader may
profitably trace the wide range of Goethe's interests in his

latter days, and, to use Carlyle’s words, “see how in that |

great mind, beaming in mildest mellow splendour, beaming
if also trembling, like a great sun on the verge of the

* One of these, however, “ Die Pilgernde Thorin,” could well be
spared. The reader will be glad to know that this tasteless conception

ti orn

 

 

 

is to be ascribed to a French writer, from whom Goethe para-

phrased it.
PREFACE TO THE TRANSLATION. v

horizon, near now to its long farewell, all these things

were illuminated and illustrated.”
. Lest any confusion should arise from the concurrent
circulation of wo widely different English editions, the
table of contents has been drawn up in such a form as to
show the alterations effected in the arrangement of the
second edition. In the present version the older portions
as well as the additions are newly rendered, and for the
first rough draft of the translation, which has been care-
fully revised, I have to thank Mr. A. H. Gunlogsen, an
able Icelandic linguist.

The few notes are mostly derived from Dr. Diintzer’s
edition in Hempel’s excellent series of German classics.

BB
 
CONTENTS.

—

BOOK 1.
In First Edition.

CHAP. x : CHAP. PAGE
- I. Ter Fuear into EGYPT SE Er 1
IT. ST. JosePH THE SECOND + ~» . . iL iv. .
III. [MoNTAN] . . ee ere UA IES sie LO

IV. [FELIX AND THE Casser] isn vhovil . 30
V. Tug Witness WANDERER: « . » Jin tii, oa. 45
VI. [Toe NurseowN MaAp®) © 0 oi. ville ee, 200
VIL (Maw LANDOWNER] +» » » ~ i Wlihi,c0y od s93
WII. “Wno 3 aw TrATTOR?? . . . .XZvill. .:.. :." 82
1X. i = on hee he el RT HOS)
X. [MaKARIA] olde wean teen SND
XI. [Tue NUTBROWN Masveonined). ooviil, wo eps 0
XN. [Tse Bvoppy Friep) . . 0 . . iz . . 2143
BOOK 11.

1. [Tue Prpacogio Poovivee}.. . . . . x . . , 148
1L 7 own en ale Ud OS CITES
III. Tir Max or ¥eey 4 . . . .-. xii... . 167
wv. pi a la ea nt E188
y. . " RE a
VI. [Lerasnol . +» 228

WIL [Laco Macorone} . . . . . . . xii. . . . 227
WIL. INTERCALATION . .. . . . . « + i» » 245
IX. [Tue Pepacocic PROVINCE] . . . . Xiv. . . . 246
X. [Tor MouNTaIN FESTIVAL] . . . . « +. o . . 260
XI. [HersiLiA AND FELIX] . vont al oh 9008
XII. [Story OF THE FISHERMAN’S Sox] oath era 2 000

* The episode in which Lenardo is the hero was so called in the
first edition, though it was only given in part. In the present edition
it is carried out further in the ‘portions named “ Lenardo’s Diary.”
viii CONTENTS.

BOOK IIL
In First Edition.

cEdP. CHAP.
I [Tee GumLp-BRETHREN] . . . . XV. . . .
II. [Tee Key OF THE CASKET] . . . viii. . .
III. [ANATOMICAL STUDIES] . . . . + + +
IV. [LENABDO AND FRIEDRICH]
V. [LeNArDO’S Diary] . , we el
VI. Tog New Meposina  . . . . . 39.
VII. pHersiLia To WILHELM] «wig,
VILL THE HazarDOUS WAGER . . . . . +
IX. [LENARDO'S ADDRESS] , . . . . Xx . .
X. «DoNT Go Too Far!” . .
XT. [Soocrar. BcoNoMY] +» . + os sev. ih
XII. [ODOoARD’S ADDRESS] e cin
XIII. [LENARDO’S Disry—ocontinued) x
XIV. [Ar Magamia’s] . . . « .

Ny. wi ST RR RA Ss
XVI. [FELIX] tte one
Xvi.

 

BVI.» i eh
WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS.

BOOX 1.

 

CHAPTER 1
THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT.

Ix the shadow of a mighty rock sat Wilhelm, at a gloomy
and striking spot, where the steep mountain-path turned
sharply round a corner, and rapidly wound down into the
chasm below. The sun was still high, and illuminated
the tops of the firs in the rocky valleys at his feet. He
was just entering something in his memorandum-book,
when Felix, who had been clambering about, came up to
him with a stone in his hand. ¢“ What do they call this
stone ? 7 said the boy.

“I do not know,” replied Wilhelm.

“Ts it gold that sparkles so in it?” said the former.

“ Nothing of the kind !” replied the other; “ and now I
remember that people call it ¢ cats’-gold.” ” *

« Cats’-gold ! 7 said the boy, laughing ; « why?”

“Probably because it is false, and because cats are
thought to be false.”

«I will remember that,” said his son, and put the stone
into his leathern wallet; but at the same time pulled out
something else, and asked, “ What is this?”

“A fruit,” replied his father; “and to judge by its scales
it ought to be akin to the fir-cones.”

2, * A common name for the mineral mica,
{ of WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book L

it € ©
Cv cca crt

“Tt does not look like a cone ; why, it is round.”

“Let us ask the huntsmen : they know the whole forest
and all sorts of fruits; they know how to sow, to plant,
and to wait; then they let the stems grow and become as
big as they can.”

“The hunters know everything; yesterday the post-
man showed me where a stag had crossed the road; he
called me back and made me observe the track, as he called
it. I had jumped across it, but now I saw plainly a pair
of claws printed ; it must have been a big stag.”

“T heard how you were questioning the postman.”

“ He knew a great deal, and yet he is not a huntsman.
But I want to be a huntsman. It is glorious to be the
whole day in the forest, and to listen to the birds, to know
their names and where their nests are; how to take the
eggs or the young ones; how to feed them, and when to
catch the old ones: all this is so splendid!”

Scarcely had this been said, when there appeared coming
down the rugged path an unusual phenomenon. Two
boys, beautiful as the day, in coloured tunics, which one
might rather have taken for small shirts girt up, sprang
down one after the other; and Wilhelm found an oppor-
tunity of inspecting them more closely, as they faltered
before him, and for a moment stood still. Around the
head of the elder one waved an abundance of fair locks,
which one must needs see first on looking at him; and
next his light-blue eyes attracted the glance which lost
itself with pleasure in his beautiful figure. The second,
who looked more like a friend than a brother, was adorned
with smooth brown hair, which hung down over his
shoulders, and the reflexion of which seemed to mirror
itself in his eyes.

Wilhelm had not time to contemplate more closely these
two extraordinary, and in such a wilderness quite unex-

“pected beings, when he heard a manly voice shouting down
in a peremptory yet kindly manner from behind the corner
of the rock : “ Why are you standing still? Do not stop
the way for us!”

Wilhelm looked up ; and if the children had caused him
to wonder, what now met his eyes filled him with astonish-
ment. A strong and vigorous, but not too tall, young

 
Cuar. 1.) THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT. 3

man, lightly clad, with brown complexion and black hair,
stepped firmly yet carefully down the rocky path, leading
after him a donkey, which first displayed its own sleek
and well-trimmed head, and then the beautiful burden
which it carried. A gentle, lovable woman was sitting
in a large finely-mounted saddle; within a blue mantle,
which was wrapped round her, she held a lately-born
infant, which she pressed to her bosom and regarded with
indescribable love. The same thing occurred to the guide
as to the children: he hesitated for a moment when he
saw Wilhelm. The animal slackened its pace, but the
descent was too steep—the passers-by could not stop, and
Wilhelm with wonder saw them disappear behind the
projecting wall of rock.

Nothing was more natural, than that this unwonted
sight should snatch him from his meditations. He stood
up in curiosity and looked down from his place into the
depth to see whether they would not somewhere or other
come into sight again. And he was just on the point of
descending himself to greet these strange wanderers, when
Felix came up and said :

“ Father, may I not go with these children to their
house? They want to take me with them. You must
come too, the man said to me. Come! They are waiting
down yonder.”

«T will speak to them,” answered Wilhelm.

He found them at a place where the road was less
precipitous, and he devoured with his eyes the wonderful
forms which had so much attracted his attention. But
there were one or two other special circumstances, which
before now it had not been possible for him to observe.

The young and active man had in fact an adze on his
shoulder, and a long, thin, iron measuring-square.

The children carried tall bunches of bulrushes, as if
they were palms; and if from this point of view they
resembled angels, on the other hand they dragged along
small baskets with eatables, and in this resembled the
daily messengers, such as are accustomed to go to and fro
across the mountain. The mother, too, when he looked at
her more closely, had beneath her blue mantle a reddish
delicately-tinted under-garment, so that our friend, with
| B2
4 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

astonishment, was fain to find the Flight into Egypt,
which he had so often seen painted, actually here before
his eyes.

They greeted one another; and whilst Wilhelm, what
with astonishment and absorption, could not utter a single
word, the young man said :

«“Qur children have already made friends just now.
Will you come with us, that we may see whether the
grown-up people may not come to an understanding

Wilhelm bethought himself a little, and then replied :

«“ The sight of your little family procession inspires con-
fidence and kindliness, and—I may as well confess it at
once—no less curiosity, and a lively desire to know more
of you. For at the first moment one might almost ask
oneself whether you are real travellers, or only spirits
who take a pleasure in animating this inhospitable
mountain with pleasant visions.”

“Then come with us to our dwelling,” said the other.

« Come along!” shouted the children, already dragging
Felix along with them.

“(ome with us!” said the lady, turning her amiable
kindly look from her babe towards the stranger.

Without hesitation, Wilhelm said :

«I am sorry that I cannot follow you immediately.
This night at least I must pass at the frontier-house
above. My wallet, papers and everything are still lying
up there unpacked and unattended-to. But, that I may
show myself ready and willing to do justice to your kind
invitation, I will hand you over my Felix as a pledge.
To-morrow I shall be with you. How far is it from
here ?”

«Before sunset we shall reach our dwelling,” said the

carpenter, “and from the frontier-house it will be only

an hour and a half more for you. Your boy will augment
our family for this night; to-morrow we shall expect
ou.”

The man and the beast set themselves in motion.
Wilhelm with visible pleasure saw his Felix in such good
company ;- he could compare him with the dear little
angels, from whom he differed so markedly. For his
Crap. 1] THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT. 5

years he was not tall, but robust, with a broad chest and
strong shoulders. In his nature there was a peculiar
mixture of authority and obedience ; he had already laid
hold of a palm-branch and a little basket, whereby he
seemed to express both. The procession was already on
the point of disappearing a second time round a rocky wall,
when Wilhelm collected himself, and shouted after them :

“ But how shall I inquire for you?”

“ Only ask for St. Joseph's!” rang from the depth, and
the whole vision had disappeared behind the blue walls of
shadow. A solemn religious hymn, sung in parts, arose
and died away in the distance, and Wilhelm thought that
he distinguished the voice of his Felix.

He mounted upwards, and in so doing retarded for him-
self the sunset. The star of heaven which he had lost
more than once, shone on him again as he ascended higher,
and it was still day when he arrived at his lodging. Once
more he gladdened himself with the grand mountain view,
and then withdrew to his chamber, where he at once
seized a pen, and spent a part of the night in writing.

Wilhelm to Nataliae

“Now at last is the summit reached—the heights of the
mountain chain which will set a more effectual separation
between us than the whole stretch of country so far.
It is my feeling that one is still ever in the neighbour-
hood of one’s beloved ones, as long as the streams flow
from us to them. To-day I can still fancy to myself that
the twig which I cast into the forest brook might leisurely
float downwards to her—might in a few days be stranded
in front of her garden; and thus our spirit sends its
images, our heart its feelings, more easily downwards.
But over there I fear that a partition wall is placed against
imagination and feeling. Yet that is perhaps only a
premature anxiety ; for there, too, it will very likely not
be otherwise than it is here.

“What could separate me from thee—from thee, to whom
I am destined for ever, although a wondrous fate keeps
me from thee, and unexpectedly shuts to me the heaven
6 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. ' [Book L

to which I was standing so near! I had time to collect
myself, and yet no time would have sufficed to give me
this self-possession, if I had not won it from thy mouth,
from thy lips, in that decisive moment. How should I
have been able to tear myself away, if the indestructible
thread had not been spun, which is to unite us for time
and eternity.

«Still, T ought not indeed to speak of all this. Iwill not
transgress thy tender commands. Upon this summit let
it be for the last time that I utter before thee the word,
Separation. My life shall become a journey. I have to
discharge the traveller's special duties, and to undergo
tests of a peculiar kind. How often I smile when I read
through the rules which my craft has prescribed for me, and
those which I myself have made! Much has been observed
and much transgressed ; but even at the transgression, this
sheet, this witness to my last confession, my last absolution,
serves me instead of an admonishing conscience, and I make
a fresh start. I am on my guard, and my errors no longer
rush, like mountain torrents, one upon the top of the other.

« Still, I will willingly confess to you, that I often admire
those teachers and leaders of men who only impose on
their disciples outward mechanical duties. They make
the thing easy to themselves and to the world. For just
this part of my obligations, which formerly seemed to mo
the most arduous and the most wonderful—this I observe
most conveniently and most pleasantly.

«T must stay not more than three days under the same
roof. I must leave no inn without at least removing one
mile from the same. These regulations are really designed
to make my years years of journeying, and to prevent the
least temptation of settling down occurring to me. I have
hitherto scrupulously subjected myself to this condition—
nay, not once availed myself of the indulgence allowed. It
is in fact here for the first time that I make a halt—that I
sleep for a third night in the same bed. From here I send
you many things that I have, so far, learnt, observed,
saved up; and then to-morrow early we descend on the
other side, in the first place to a wonderful family—a
Holy Family, I might perhaps say—about which you will
find more in my diary. |
Cuar 1.] THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT. 7

“ Now, farewell, and lay down this sheet with the feel-
ing that it has only one thing to say; only one thing that
it might say and repeat for ever, but will not say, will not
repeat, until I have the happiness to lie again at thy feet,
and over thy hands to sob out all that I have had to
forego.

“ Morning.

“I have packed up. The postman is fastening the wallet
upon his frame. The sun has not yet risen, the mists are
steaming out of all the valleys, but the sky overhead is
bright. We are going down into the gloomy depth, which
also will soon brighten up above us. Let me send across
to you my last sigh! Let my last glance towards you be
still filled with an involuntary tear! I am decided and
determined. You shall hear no more complaints from me ;
you shall only hear what happens to the wanderer. And
still, whilst I wish to conclude, a thousand more thoughts,
wishes, hopes, and intentions, cross one another. Fortun-
ately they urge me away. The postman is calling, and
the host is already clearing up again in my presence,
as if I had gone; even as cold-hearted improvident heirs
do not conceal from the departing the arrangements for
putting themselves in possession.”
8 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

CHAPTER IL

ST. JOSEPH THE SECOND.

Avrreapy had the traveller, following on foot his porter’s
steps, left steep rocks behind and above him; already
were they traversing a less rugged intermediate range,
ever hurrying forwards, through many a well-wooded
forest, through many a pleasant meadow- ground, until at
last they found themselves upon a declivity, and looked
down into a carefully cultivated valley shut in all round
by hills. A large monastic building, half in ruins, half
in good repair, at once attracted their attention.

“This is St. Joseph's,” said the carrier; “a great pity
for the beautiful church! Only look how fresh its pillars
and columns still look through the underwood and the
trees, although it has been lying so many hundreds of
years in ruins.”

“The convent buildings, on the other hand,” replied
Wilhelm, « are still, I see, in good preservation.”

“Yes,” said the other, «a steward lives on the spot, who
manages the household, and collects the rents and tithes
which have to be paid here from far around.”

With these words they had entered, through the open
gate, a spacious courtyard, which, surrounded by solemn
well-preserved buildings, announced itself as the abode of a
peaceful community. He at once perceived his Felix, with
the angels of yesterday, busy round a big market-basket,
which a strongly-built woman had placed in front of her.
They were just about to buy some cherries; but in point
of fact, Felix, who always carried some money about him,
was beating down the price. He now played the part of
host as well as guest, and was lavishing an abundance of
fruit on his playmates ; even to his father the refreshment
Cuar. IL] ST. JOSEPH THE SECOND. 9

was welcome amidst these barren mossy wilds, where the
coloured shining fruits always seemed so beautiful. ¢She
brought them up some distance from a large garden,’ the
fruit-woman remarked, in order to make the price satis-
factory to the buyers, to whom it had seemed somewhat
too high. »

“Father will soon return,” said the children; “in the
meanwhile you must go into the hall and rest there.”

Yet how astonished was Wilhelm, when the children
took him to the room which they called the hall. It was
entered directly from the courtyard by a large door, and
our traveller found himself in a very clean well-preserved
chapel, which, however, as in fact he saw, had been
arranged for the domestic use of daily life. On one side
stood a table, a settle, several chairs and benches; on the
other side a carved dresser with various-coloured pottery,
jugs and glasses. There were not wanting a number of
chests and boxes, and, neatly ordered as everything was,
there was no want of what is attractive in domestic every-
day life. The light fell through high windows at the
side. But what most aroused the traweller’s attention
were coloured pictures painted on the wall at a moderate
height below the windows, extended like tapestries round
three sides of the chapel, and coming down to a panelled
skirting which covered the rest of the wall to the
ground. The pictures represented the history of St.
Joseph. Here you saw him busy with his carpenter’s
work; there he was meeting Mary, and a lily sprouted
out of the ground between them, whilst several angels
hovered watchfully about them. Here he is being be-
trothed; then follows the angelic salutation. There he
is sitting despondent amidst unfinished work, letting his
axe lie, and is thinking of leaving his wife. But presently
there appears to him the angel in a dream, and his posi-
tion is changed. With devotion he regards the new-born
Child in the manger at Bethlehem, and adores it. Soon
after follows a wonderfully beautiful picture. All kinds
of carpentered wood are seen; it is on the point of being
put together, and accidentally a couple of pieces form a
cross. The Child has fallen asleep upon the cross; its
mother is sitting close by regarding it with tender love,
10 WILHELM MEISTER’'S TRAVELS. [Book I.

and the foster-father stops his work in order not to disturb
its sleep. Immediately after follows the Flight into Egypt.
It provoked a smile from the traveller as he looked at it,
when he saw on the wall the repetition of the living picture
of yesterday.

He had not been left long to his meditations when the
host entered, whom he recognised immediately as the
leader of the holy caravan. They saluted each other most
cordially; a conversation on sundry matters followed;
still Wilhelm’s attention remained directed towards the
picture. The host saw the interest of his guest, and com-
menced laughingly :

“No doubt you are wondering at the harmony of this
structure with its inhabitants, whom you learned to know
yesterday. But it is perhaps still more strange than
might be supposed; the building has, in fact, made the
inhabitants. For, if the lifeless comes to life, then it may
well be able also to create a living thing.”

“Qh, yes,” rejoined Wilhelm, *it would surprise me if
the spirit who centuries ago worked so powerfully amid
this mountain desert, and attracted towards itself such
a huge mass of buildings, possessions and rights, and
thereby diffused manifold culture in the neighbourhood,
—it would surprise me if it did not still display its vital
energy even out of these ruins upon a living human
being. Still, let us not abide by the general; make me
acquainted with your history, in order that I may learn
how it was possible that, without trifling or pretension,
the Past is again represented in you, and that which is
past and gone comes a second time upon the scene.”

Just as Wilhelm was expecting an instructive answer
from the lips of his host, a friendly voice in the courtyard
shouted the name of Joseph. The host heard it, and
went to the door.

So he is called Joseph, too! said Wilhelm to himself.
That is wonderful enough, and yet not quite so wonderful
as that he represents his patron saint in the life. At the
same time he glanced towards the door, and saw the
Madonna of ‘yesterday speaking with her husband. At
last they separated; the woman went to the opposite
dwelling.
Crap. IL] ST. JOSEPH THE SECOND. 11

“Mary!” he shouted after her, “just a word more.”

So she is called Mary, too! But a little more, and I
shall feel myself transported backwards eighteen hundred
years. He mused on the solemn pent-up valley in which
he found himself, on the ruins and the stillness, and a
strange olden-time sort of mood fell upon him. It was
time that the host and children came in. The latter
begged Wilhelm to come for a walk, whilst the host still
discharged a few duties. They went now through the
ruins of the church, with its wealth of columns: the lofty
roof and walls seemed to strengthen themselves in
wind and storm ; whilst strong trees had, ages ago, struck
root in the broad tops of the walls, and in company with
a good deal of grass, flowers, and moss, represented gardens
hanging boldly in the air. Grassy meadow-paths led to
a rapid brook, and the traveller could now, from a certain
height, look over the building and its situation with an
interest which grew greater as its inhabitants became
more and more remarkable to him, and, through their
harmony with their surroundings, aroused his liveliest
curiosity.

They returned, and found a table laid in the consecrated
hall. At the upper end there stood an arm-chair, in which
the housewife sat down. She had standing by her side a
high basket, in which the little child was lying ; next, the
father on her left hand, and Wilhelm on her right. The
three children occupied the lower part of the table. An
old female servant brought in a well-prepared repast. The
eating- and drinking-vessels likewise indicated a bygone
time. The children gave occasion for amusement, whilst
Wilhelm could not look enough at the figure and bearing
of his holy hostess.

After dinner the company separated ; the host took his
guest to a shady spot in the ruins, where from an elevated
position one had in full view the pleasant prospect down
the valley, and saw the hills of the lower land, with their
fertile declivities and woody summits ranged one behind
the other.

© «It is fair,” said the host, “ that I should satisfy your

curiosity, and the rather as I feel, in your case, that you

are capable of taking the marvellous seriously, if it rests
{
12 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

upon a serious foundation. This religious institution, of
which you still see the remains, was dedicated to the Holy
Family, and in olden times, on account of many miracles,
was renowned as a place of pilgrimage. The church was
dedicated to the Mother and the Son. It was destroyed
several centuries ago. The chapel, dedicated to the holy
Foster-father, has been preserved, as also the habitable
part of the convent. The income for a great many years
back has belonged to a secular prince, who keeps an agent
up here, and that am I, the son of the former agent, who
likewise succeeded his father in this office.”

«St. Joseph, although all ecclesiastical honours had long
ago ceased up here, had been so beneficent towards our
family, that it is not to be wondered at, if they felt parti-
cularly well disposed towards him ; and thence it came to
pass, that at baptism I was called Joseph, whereby to a
"certain extent my manner of life was determined. I grew
up, and if I became an associate of my father whilst he
looked after the rents, still I clung quite as much, nay,
even more affectionately, to my mother, who according to
her means was fond of distributing relief, and through
her kindly disposition and her good deeds was known
and beloved on the whole mountain-side. She would send
me, now here, and now there; at one time to fetch, at
another to order, at another to look after; and I felt quite
at home in this kind of charitable business.

“In general a mountain life has something more
humanizing than life on the lowlands; inhabitants are
closer together, or farther apart, if you wish it; wants
are smaller, but more pressing. Man is more thrown
upon his own resources,—must learn to rely on his hands,
on his feet. The labourer, postman, carrier, are all united
in one and the same person ; everybody also stands nearer
to his neighbour, meets him oftener, and lives with him
in a common sphere of activity.

“When I was still young, and my shoulders unable to
carry much, it occurred to me to furnish a small donkey
with baskets, and drive it before me up and down the
steep footpaths. In the mountains, the ass is no such con-
temptible animal as in the lowlands, where the labourer
who ploughs with horses thinks himself better than
Cuar. I1.] ST. JOSEPH THE SECOND. 13

another who tears up the sod with oxen. And I trudged
along behind my beast with all the less misgiving, that I
had before noticed, in the chapel, that it had attained
to the honour of carrying God and His Mother. Still,
this chapel was not then in the condition in which it
is now. It was treated like an outbuilding, almost like
a stable. Firewood, hurdles, tools, tubs and ladders, and
all sorts of things, were heaped pell-mell together. It
was fortunate that the paintings were situated so high,
and that wainscot lasts a little while. But as a child I
was especially fond of clambering here and there all about
the wood, and looking at the pictures, which nobody could
properly explain to me. Enough, I knew that the saint
whose life was painted above was my namesake, and I
congratulated myself on him, as much as if he had been
my uncle. I grew up, and as it was a special condition
that he who would lay claim to the profitable office of
steward must exercise a trade, therefore, in accordance
with the wish of my parents, who were anxious that I
should one day inherit this excellent post, I was to learn
a trade—and, moreover, such a one as would prove useful
to the household up here.

“ My father was a cooper by trade, and made every-
thing of this sort of work that was necessary himself,
whence accrued great advantage to himself and the whole
family. But I could not make up my mind to follow him
in this line. My inclination drew me irresistibly towards
the carpenter's trade, the implements of which I had
from my youth seen so circumstantially and correctly
painted by the side of my saint. I declared my wish;
they did not oppose it, and the less so as the carpenter
was often required by us for so many different constructions,
and even because, if he has some ability and love for his
work, the cabinet-maker’s and wood-carver’s arts, especially
in forest districts, are closely allied to it. And what still
more strengthened me in my higher designs was that
picture, which, alas! now is almost entirely obliterated.
As soon as you know what it is meant to represent, you
will be able to make it out, when I take you to it presently.
St. Joseph had been entrusted with nothing less than the
making of a throne for King Herod. The gorgeous seat

i
14 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book 1.

was to be placed between two specified pillars. Joseph
carefully takes the measure of the breadth and height,
and constructs a costly royal throne. But how aston
ished is he, how distracted, when he brings the chair of
state : it is found to be too high and not wide enough.
Now, as is well known, King Herod was not to be
trifled with: the pious master-joiner is in the greatest
embarrassment. I'he Christ-child, accustomed to accom-
pany him everywhere, to carry his tools in childishly
humble sport, sees his distress, and is immediately ready
with advice and help. The wondrous Child desires his
foster-father to take hold of the throne by one side. He
seizes the other side of the carved work, and both begin
to pull. With the greatest ease and as conveniently as if
it had been of leather, the throne expands in breadth, loses
proportionately in height, and fits most excellently to
the place and position, to the greatest consolation of the
reassured carpenter and to the perfect satisfaction of the
king. *

“In my youth that throne was still quite easy to see, and
from the remains of one side you will be able to observe
that there was no lack of carved work, which indeed must
have proved easier to the painter than it would have been
to the carpenter, if it had been demanded of him.

“ However, I had no misgivings in consequence, but
looked upon the craft to which I had devoted myself in
such a favourable light, that I could scarcely wait until
they had put me into apprenticeship ; which was all the
more easy to effect, inasmuch as there lived in the neigh-
bourhood a master-carpenter who worked for the whole
district, and who could employ several assistants and
apprentices. Thus I remained near my parents, and con-
tinued to a certain extent my former life, whilst employ-
ing hours of leisure and holy-days for the charitable com-
missions with which my mother continued to charge me.

* This story is substantially the same as one given in the first
Gospel of the Infancy of Christ, which was received as authentic by
the Gnostics of the second century. The same apocryphal book gives
various details of the Flight into Egypt, which St. Matthew so bricfly
records.—ED.
Crap. IL] ST. JOSEPH THE SECOND. 15

Ture VISITATION.

«In this way a few years passed,” continued the
narrator. “I very soon understood the advantages of the
craft ; and my body, developed through work, was capable
of undertaking anything required for the purpose. In
addition, I discharged the former duties which I rendered
to my good mother, or rather to the sick and needy. I
went with my beast through the mountain, distributed
the load punctually, and from grocers and merchants I
took back with me what we lacked up here. My master
was satisfied with me, and so were my parents. Already
I had on my wanderings the pleasure of seeing many a
house which I had helped to erect, which I had decorated.
For it was especially this last—the notching of the
beams, the carving of certain simple forms, the branding
of ornamental figures, the red-colouring of certain cavities,
by which a wooden mountain-house offers such a cheerful
aspect,—all such performances were entrusted to me espe-
cially, because I showed myself best in the matter, always
bearing in mind as I did the throne of Herod and its
adornments.

“ Among the help-worthy persons of whom my mother
took particular care, the first place was especially awarded
to young wives in expectation of childbed, as I by degrees
could well observe, although in such cases it was usual to
keep the messages a secret so far as I was concerned. In
such cases I never had any direct commission, but every-
thing went through the medium of a good woman who
lived at no great distance down the valley, and who
was called Frau Elizabeth. My mother, herself experi-
enced in the art which rescues for life so many at the
very entrance into life, was on unalterably good terms
with Frau Elizabeth, and I often had to hear on all sides
that many of our robust mountaineers had to thank both
these women for their existence. = The mystery with
which Elizabeth every time received me, her reserved

answers to my puzzling questions, which I myself did

not understand, awoke in me a particular reverence for
her and her house, which was in the highest degree clean,

and seemed to me to represent a kind of little sanctuary.
16 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boox I.

“In the meanwhile, by my knowledge and skill in my
trade, I had acquired a certain amount of influence in the

family. As my father, in his quality of cooper, had pro-
vided for the cellar, so did I now care for house and home,
and mended many injured portions of the ancient building.

I particularly succeeded in restoring to domestic use certain

dilapidated out-houses and coach-houses ; and scarcely was
this done, than I set about clearing and cleansing my be-
loved chapel. In a few days it had been put in order,
almost as you see it; whereupon I set about restoring, in
uniformity with the whole, the missing or injured parts
of the panel-work. And you might perhaps take these
folding-doors of the entrance to be rather old, but they
are my own work. I have spent several years in carving

them in hours of leisure, after I had in the first place

neatly joined them into a whole by the aid of strong
planks of oak. Whatever of the pictures had not up to
that time been injured or obliterated, has also been pre-
served up to now; and I assisted the glazier at a new
building on the condition that he restored the coloured
windows.

If those pictures and thoughts on the life of the saint
had occupied my imagination, so it all became only more
deeply impressed upon me when Iwas able to consider the
spot as once more a sanctuary, and while away the time
in it, particularly in the summer, and meditate at leisure
upon whatever I saw or imagined. I felt within me an
irresistible inclination to imitate the saint; and, as simi-
lar circumstances cannot easily be called forth, I deter-
mined at least to begin to resemble him from below, as in
fact I had already begun to do long ago by the use of the
beast of burden. The little creature of which I had
availed myself hitherto would not suffice me any longer.
I found for myself a much finer animal, and was careful to
get a well-constructed saddle, which was equally convenient
for riding or for carrying goods. A pair of new baskets
were procured, and a net with coloured ribbons, tassels,
and knots, mingled with chinking metal tags, adorned the
neck of the long-eared creature, which was now soon able
to vie with its prototype on the wall. It occurred to

no one to mock me, when in this array I passed along
Cuar II] ST. JOSEPH THE SECOND. 17

the mountain; for people willingly allow benevolence a
marvellous outward aspect.

“In the meantime the war, or rather its consequences,
had approached our district, whilst on several occasions
dangerous bands of runaway rascals collected together,
and here and there perpetrated many a violent deed and
much mischief. By a good system of country militia,
patrols, and continuous vigilance, the evil was certainly
very soon quelled ; yet people too soon fell into careless-
ness again, and, before they had become aware of it, fresh
mischiefs broke out.

“ There had long been quiet in our district, and I with
my sumpter beast went peacefully trudging along the
accustomed paths, until, on a certain day, I came across
the newly-sown clearing in the wood, and on the edge of
the sunk fence I found sitting, or rather lying, a female
figure. She seemed to be asleep or in a swoon. I attended
to her, and when she opened her beautiful eyes, and sat
up, she exclaimed passionately, ¢ Where is he? Have you
seen him?’

“¢Whom ?’ I asked.

“She answered, ‘ My husband!’

“Seeing how very youthful her aspect was, this answer
was not expected by me ; still, I continued to assist her
only the more readily, and to assure her of my sympathy.
1 gathered that the two travellers had left their carriage
at some distance, on account of the difficult carriage-road,
in order to turn into a shorter foot-path. Close by the
spot they had been assailed by armed men : her husband,
whilst fighting, had got to some distance off. She had not
been able to follow him far, and had been lying on this
spot she did not know how long. She begged me im-
ploringly to leave her and to hurry in search of her
husband. She got upon her feet, and the most beautiful,
the loveliest form stood before me; yet I could easily see
that she was in a condition in which she might very soon
need the assistance of my mother and Frau Elizabeth.
We disputed for a while, for I wished first to take her to
a place of safety; she wished first of all for news of her
husband. She would not go far herself from the path he
had taken, and all my representations would perhaps have

Cc
18 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IL

proved fruitless, if a troop of our militia, which had turned
out upon the news of fresh outrages, had not just then
arrived through the forest. They were informed of what
had happened; the necessary course was agreed upon,
the place of meeting fixed. and thus the matter was so far
set straight. I quickly hid my basket in a neighbouring
cave, which had already often served me as a storehouse,
arranged my saddle into a comfortable seat, and lifted,
not without a peculiar emotion, the lovely burden upon
my willing beast, which was able by itself to find the
familiar paths at once, and gave me an opportunity of
walking along by her side.

“You may imagine, without my describing at length,
in what a strange state of mind I was. What I so long
had sought for I had really found. I felt as if I were
dreaming, and then again, suddenly, as if I had awoke
from a dream. This heavenly form, as I saw it hovering
as it were in the air, and moving in front of the green
trees, came before me now like some dream, which was
called forth in my soul through those pictures in the
chapel. Then, again, those pictures seemed to me to have
been only dreams, which now resolved themselves into a
beautiful reality. I questioned her on many things; she
answered me gently and politely, as beseerns a person. of
good standing, in trouble. She often begged me, when we
reached some open height, to stand still, look round, and
listen. She begged me with such grace, with such a
deeply-imploring glance from beneath her long black
eyelashes, that I had to do whatever was but possible :
I actually climbed an isolated, tall, and branchless fir-
tree. Never had this evidence of my dexterity been more
welcome to me; never had I on holidays and at fair-times
with greater satisfaction fetched down ribbons and silk
handkerchiefs from similar altitudes. Yet this time I
went, alas! without any prize; neither did T see or hear
anything from above. At last she herself called to me
to come down, and beckoned to me quite urgently with
her hand ; nay, when at length in sliding down I let go
my hold at a considerable height and jumped down, she
gave a cry, and a sweet friendliness overspread her face,
when she saw me uninjured before her. :
Cuar. II] - ST. JOSEPH THE SECOND. 19

“Why should I detain you long with the hundred
attentions with which 1 tried to make the whole way
pleasant to her, in order to distract her thoughts. And
how too could I?—for this is just the peculiar quality of
true attentiveness, that for the moment it makes every-
thing of nothing. To my own feeling, the flowers which
I plucked for her, the distant landscapes which I showed
her, the mountains, forests, which I named to her, were so
many precious treasures, which I seemed to present to her
in order to bring myself into relation with her, as one
will try to do by the aid of gifts.

« She had already gained me for my whole life, when
we arrived at our destination in front of that good woman's
door, and I at once saw a painful separation before me.
Once more I cast a glance over her whole form, and when
my eyes had reached her feet, IT stooped down, as if I
had to do something to the saddlegirth, and I kissed the
prettiest shoe that 1 had ever seen in my life, but without
her perceiving it. I helped her down, sprang up the steps
and shouted into the house-door: ‘Frau Elizabeth, here
is a visitor for you!’ The good woman came out, and I
looked over her shoulders towards the house, when the
lovely being, with charming sorrow and inward conscious-
ness of pain, mounted the steps and then affectionately
embraced my worthy old woman, and let her conduct her
into the better room. They shut themselves within it,
and I remained standing by my ass before the door, like
one who has unladen costly goods, and has again become
but a poor driver as before.

TeE LILY-STALK.

«T was still hesitating to leave the spot, for I was
irresolute as to what I should do, when Frau Elizabeth
came to the door and asked me to summon my mother to
her, and then to go about the neighbourhood and obtain
if possible some news of the husband. ‘Mary begs you

- particularly to do this,’ said she.

«Can I not speak to her once more ?’ answered I.

¢ ¢ That will not do,’ said Frau Elizabeth, and we parted.

c2
20 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

“In a short time I reached our dwelling ; my mother

was ready to go down the very same evening and assist.

the young stranger. I hurried down to the lower district
and hoped to obtain the most trustworthy news at the
bailiff’s. But lie was himself still in uncertainty, and as
he knew me he invited me to spend the night with him.
It seemed to me interminably long, and I constantly had
the beautiful form before my eyes, as she sat rocking to
and fro on the animal, and looked down at me with such
a look of sorrowful friendliness. Every moment I hoped for
news. I did not grudge but wished for the preservation of
the good husband, and yet could so gladly think of her as
a widow. The flying detachment by degrees came together
again, and after a number of varying reports the truth
at last was made clear, that the carriage had been saved,
but that the unfortunate husband had died of his wounds
in the neighbouring village. I also heard, that according
to the previous arrangement some had gone to announce
the sorrowful news to Frau Elizabeth. I had accordingly
nothing more to do, or aid in, there, and yet a ceaseless
impatience, a. boundless longing, drove me back through
mountain and forest to her door. It was night ; the house
was shut up. I saw light in the rooms, 1 saw shadows
moving on the curtains, and so I sat down upon a bench
opposite, continually on the point of knocking, and con-
tinually held back by various considerations.

“Yet why do I go on relating circumstantially what in
point of fact has no interest. Enough! Even the next
morning they did not let me into the house. They knew
the sad occurrence, they did not want me any more; they
sent me to my father, to my work; they did not answer
my questions; they wanted to get rid of me.

“They had been treating me this way for a week, when
at last Frau Elizabeth called me in. ‘Tread gently, my
friend,’ she said ; ¢ but come in with good comfort!’ She led
me into a cleanly apartment, where, in the corner, through
the half-opened bed-curtains, I saw my fair one sitting.
Frau Elizabeth went to her as if to announce me, lifted
something from the bed and brought it towards me: a
most beautiful boy wrapt in the whitest of linen. Frau
Elizabeth held him just between me and his mother, and

a a
Cuar. IL] ST. JOSEPH THE SECOND. 21

upon the spot ‘there occurred to me the lily-stalk in the
picture, growing out of the earth bétween Mary and
Joseph,* in witness of a pure relationship. From that
instant my heart was relieved of all oppression; I was
sure of my aim and of my happiness. T'could freely walk
towards her, speak ‘to her ; I could bear her heavenly look,
take the boy in my arms, and press a hearty kiss upon his
brow.

«¢«How I thank you for your affection for this orphan
child!’ said the mother.

'«] exclaimed, thoughtlessly and passionately : “It is
an orphan no longer, if you are willing!”

« Frau Elizabeth, wiser than I, took the infant from me,
and managed to send me away.

“ The recollection of that time still serves me constantly
for my happiest diversion when 1 am obliged to roam
through our mountains and valleys. I am still able to
call ‘to mind the smallest circumstance—which, however,
it is but fair that I should spare you. :

“Weeks passed by: Mary had recovered and T could
see her more frequently. My intercourse with her was
a series of services and attentions. Her family circum-
‘stances allowed her to live where she liked. At first she
stayed with Frau Elizabeth ; then she visited us, to thank
my mother and me for so much friendly help. She was
happy with us, and I flattered myself that this came to
pass partly on my account. Yet, what I should have
liked so much to say, and dared not say, was finally
mooted in a strange and charming fashion when I took
her into the chapel, which I had already transformed
into a habitable hall. I showed and explained to her the
pictures one after the other, and in so doing I expatiated
in such a vivid heartfelt manner upon the duties of a
foster-father, that tears came into her eyes, and I could
not get to the end of my description of the pictures. I
thought myself sure of her affection, although I was not

* The lily-stalk, of course, referred to the well-known legend of the
budding of St. Joseph’s rod, when he presented himself as a suitor for
Mary—the subject of many early paintings. The legend is probably
derived from the uncanonical Gospel of the Birth of Mary given by
St. Jerome.—ED.
*

22 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book 1.

presumptuous enough to wish to blot out so soon the
memory of her husband. The law compels widows to one
year of mourning; and certainly such a period, which
comprehends within it the change of all earthly things,
is necessary to a sensitive heart, in order to soothe the
painful impressions of a great loss. One sees the flowers
fade and the leaves fall, but one also sees fruits ripen and
fresh buds germinate. Life belongs to the living, and he
who lives must be prepared for a change.

«I now spoke to my mother about the matter which I
had most at heart. She thereupon revealed to me how
painful the death of her husband had been to Mary, and
how she had recovered again only at the thought that
she must live for the sake of the child. My attachment
had not remained unknown to the women, and Mary had
already familiarised herself with the notion of living with
us. She stayed some time longer in the neighbourhood,
then she came up here to us, and we lived for a while
longer in the godliest and happiest state of betrothal. At
last we were united. That first feeling which had brought
us together did not disappear. The duties and joys of
foster-father and of father were combined; and thus our
little family, as it increased, surpassed indeed its pattern
in the number of its individuals, but the virtues of that
example, in truth and purity of mind, were kept holy
and practised by us. And hence also we maintain with
kindly habitude the outward appearance which we have
accidentally acquired, and which suits so well our inward
disposition ; for although we are all good walkers and
sturdy carriers, yet the beast of burden remains constantiy
in our company, in order to carry one thing or another,
when business or a visit obliges us to go through these
mountains and valleys. As you met us yesterday, so the
whole neighhourhood knows us; and we are proud of the
fact that our conduct is of a kind not to shame those holy
names and persons whom we profess to follow.”

ra
( 23)

CHAPTER III

Wilhelm to Natalia.

“1 HAVE just ended a pleasant half wondrous story, which
I have written down for thee from the lips of an excellent
man. If it is not entirely in his own words—if here and
there I have expressed my own feelings in the place of
his, this is quite natural, in view of the relationship
I have here felt with him. Is not that veneration for
his wife like that which I feel for you? And has not
even the meeting of these two lovers some likeness to our
own? But, that he is happy enough in walking along by
the side of the beast that carries its double burden of
beauty ; that in the evening he can, with his family fol-
lowing, enter through the old convent gates, and that he
is inseparable from his beloved and from his children ;—all
this I may be allowed to envy him in secret. On the other
hand, I must not complain of my own fate, since I have
promised you to be silent and to suffer, as you also have
undertaken to do.

“I have to pass over many beautiful features of the
common life of these virtuous and happy people ; for how
could everything be written? A few days I have spent
pleasantly, but the third already warns me to bethink me
of my further travels.

“To-day I had a little dispute with Felix, for he wanted
almost to compel me to transgress one of the good inten-
tions which I have promised you to keep. Now it is just
a defect, a misfortune, a fatality with me, that, before 1
am aware of it, the company increases around me, and
I charge myself with a fresh burden, under which I after-
wards have to toil and to drag myself along. Now, during
my travels, we must have no third person as a constant
or

24 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

companion. We wish and intend to be and to remain two
only, and it has but just now seemed as if a new, and not
exactly pleasing, connexion was likely to be formed.

“ A poor, merry little youngster had joined the children
of the house, with whom Felix had been enjoying these
days in play, who allowed himself to be used or abused
just as the game required, and who very soon won the
favour of Felix. From various expressions I noticed already
that the latter had chosen a playmate for the next journey.
The boy is known here in the neighbourhood ; he is tolerated
everywhere on account of his merriness, and occasionally
receives gratuities. But he did mot please me, and I
begged the master of the house to send him away. This
was accordingly done, but Felix was vexed about it, and
there was a little scene.

¢ On this occasion I made a discovery which pleased me.
In a corner of the chapel, or hall, there stood a box of
stones, which Felix—who since our wandering through
the mountain had become exceedingly fond of stones—
eagerly pulled out and examined. Among them were some
fine, striking specimens. Our host said that the child might
pick out for himself any he liked : that these stones were
what remained over from a large quantity which a stranger
had sent from here a short time before. He called him
Montan,* and you can fancy how glad I was to hear this
name, under which one of our best friends, to whom we
owe so much, is travelling. As I inquired as to time and
circumstances, I may hope soon to meet with him in my
travels.”

The news that Montan was in the neighbourhood had
made Wilhelm thoughtful. He considered that it ought
not to be left merely to chance whether he should see
such a worthy friend again, and therefore he inquired of
his host whether it was not known in what direction this
traveller had bent his wav. No one had any more exact
knowledge of this, and Wilhelm had already determined
to pursue his route according to the first plan, when Felix

* A name supposed to be assumed by Jarno. See “ Wilhelm
Meister’s Apprenticeship.”
Cuar. III] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 25

exclaimed, “If father were mot so obstinate, we should
soon find Moutan.”

“In what manner?” asked Wilhelm.

Felix answered: “Little Fitz said yesterday that he
would mest likely follow up the gentleman who had the
pretty stones with him, and knew so much about them too.”

After some discussion Wilhelm at last resolved to make
the attempt, and in so doing to give all the more attention
to the suspicious boy. He was soon found, and when he
understood what was intended, he brought a mallet and
iron, and a very powerful hammer, together with a bag,
and, in this miner-like equipment, ran merrily in front.

The road led sideways up the mountain again. The
children ran leaping together from rock to rock. over
stock and stone, and brook and stream, without follow-
ing any direct path. Fitz, glancing now to his right and
now to his left, pushed quickly upwards. As Wilhelm,
and particularly the loaded carrier, could not follow
so quickly, the boys retraced the road several times for-
wards and backwards, singing and whistling. The forms
of certain strange trees aroused the attention of Felix,
who, moreover, now made for the first time the acquaint-
ance of the larches and stone-pines, and was attracted by
the wonderful gentians. And thus the difficult travelling
from place to place did not lack entertainment.

Little Fitz suddenly stood still and listened. He
beckoned to the others to come.

“Do you hear the knocking?” said he. “It is the
sound of ‘a hammer striking the rock.”

«We hear it,” said the others.

“Jt is Montan,” said he, “or someone who can give us
news of him.”

As they followed the sound, which was repeated at
intervals, they struck a clearing in the forest, and beheld
a steep, lofty, naked rock, towering above everything,
leaving even the tall forests deep under it. On the
summit they descried a person. He stood at too great
a distance to be recognised. The children at once
commenced to clamber up the rugged paths. Wilhelm
followed with some difficulty, nay, danger ; for in ascend-
ing a rock, the first one goes more safely, because he feels
26 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

his way for himself; the one that follows only sees where
the former has got to, but not how. The boys soon
reached the top, and Wilhelm heard a loud shout of joy.

«Tt is Jarno ! ” Felix called out to his father, and Jarno
at once stepped forward to a steep place, reached his hand
to his friend, and pulled him up to the top. They em-
braced and welcomed each other with rapture under the
open canopy of heaven.

But they had scarcely let each other go when Wilhelm
was seized with giddiness, not so much on his own
behalf, as because he saw the children hanging over the
fearful precipice. Jarno noticed it, and told them all
to sit down at once.

« Nothing is more natural,” said he, “than to feel giddy
before any great sight, upon which we come unexpectedly,
and so feel at the same time our littleness and our great-
ness. But then, generally speaking, there is no true
enjoyment except where one must at first feel giddy.”

« Are those below these the big mountains which we
have crossed?” asked Felix. ¢ How little they look!
And here,” he continued, loosening a little piece of stone
from the top, « here is the cats™-gold again ; it seems to be
everywhere!”

«Jt is found far and wide,” replied Jarno; “and since
you are curious about such things, take notice that at
present you are sitting upon the oldest mountain range,
on the earliest form of stone, in the world.”

«Was not the world made all at once, then ?”” asked Felix.

« Scarcely,” replied Montan; ‘good things require
time.”

« Then down there there is another sort of stone,”’ said
Felix, « and then again another, and others again, for ever,”
pointing from the nearest mountains towards the more
distant ones, and so to the plains below.

It was a very fine day, and Jarno pointed out in detail
the splendid view. Here and there stood several other
summits like that upon which they were. A mountain in
the middle distance seemed to vie with it, but still was
far from reaching the same height. Farther off it was
less and less mountainous ; yet strangely prominent forms
still showed themselves. Lastly, in the distance even
| Crap. III] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS: 27

‘the lakes and rivers became discernible, and a fertile
Iregion seemed to spread itself out like a sea. If the eye
was brought back again it penetrated into fearful depths,
traversed by roaring cataracts, depending one upon the
other in labyrinthine confusion.

Felix was never weary of asking questions, and Jarno
was accommodating enough in answering every question
for him; in which, however, Wilhelm thought that he
noticed that the teacher was not altogether truthful and
sincere. Therefore, when the restless boys had clambered
farther away, Wilhelm said to his friend :
| “You have not spoken to the child about these things
Bs you speak with yourself about them.”
|
|

 

“That is rather a burdensome demand,” answered Jarno ;
“one does not always speak even to oneself as one thinks,

and it is our duty to tell others only what they can
comprehend. Man understands nothing but what is
proportionate to him. The best thing one can do, is to
keep children in the present—to give them a name or a
description. In any case they ask soon enough for the
reasons.”
“They are not to be blamed for that,” answered Wil-
‘helm. “The complicated nature of objects confuses
everybody, and instead of dissecting them it is more
convenient to ask quickly, Whence ? and whither?”

“And yet,” continued Jarno, “as children only see
objects superficially, one can only speak to them snper-
ficially about their origin and purpose.”

“ Most people,” answered Wilhelm, “remain for their
whole life in this condition, and do not reach that glorious
epoch, in which the intelligible becomes commonplace and
foolish to us.” :

“One may indeed call it glorious,” replied Jarno, * for
it is a middle state between desperation and deification.” 4

“Let us keep to the boy, who is now my chief anxiety,”
said Wilhelm. “Now, he has acquired an interest in
minerals since we have been travelling. Can you not
impart to me just enough to satisfy him at least for a
time?”

“That will not do,” said Jarno; “in every new in-
tellectual sphere one has first to commence like a child

\

&
28 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor I

again, throw a passionate interest into the matter, and
rejoice first in the outward husk before ome has the

happiness of reaching the kernel.”

“Then tell me,” answered Wilhelm, “how have you |
arrived at this knowledge and insight ?—for it is still |.

not so long since we parted from one another!”

“My friend,” replied Jarno, “we had to resign our- i
selves, if not for always, at least for ‘a long time. The
first thing that under such circumstances occurs to a i,
brave man, is to commence a new life. New objects are |

not enough for him; these are only good as a distraction}

he demands a new whole, and at once places himself in'the |

centre of it.”
« But why,” interrupted Wilhelm, “just this passing
strange, this most solitary of all prepossessions ? ”

« Just for this reason,” exclaimed Jarno: * because it
is hermit-like ! Iwould avoid men. We cannot help them,
and they hinder us from helping ourselves. If they are

happy one must leave them alone in their vanity ; if they
are unhappy one must save them without injuring this

vanity ; and no one ever asks whether you are happy or

unhappy.”

“ But things are not yet quite so bad with them,”

replied Wilhelm, laughing.

bone
in ——

B

 

 

“I will not rob you of your happiness,” said Jarno.
“Only journey onward, thou second Diogenes! Let not
your little lamp be extinguished in broad daylight!
Yonder, below, there lies a new world before you; but I

will wager it goes on just like the old one behind us. If
you cannot mate yourself and pay debts, you are of no use
among them.”

« However,” replied Wilhelm, * they seem to me more
amusing than those stubborn rocks of yours.”

“ Not at all,” replied Jarno, “ for the latter are at least

incomprehensible.”

“ You are trying to evade,” said Wilhelm, * for it is not
in your way to deal with things which leave no hope of
being comprehended. Be sincere, and tell me what you
have found in this cold stern hobby of yours?”

oie That is difficult to tell of any hobby, particularly of
this one.”
|CHaP. III.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 29

Then he reflected for a moment, and said :
| “Letters may be fine things, and yet they are insuffi-
cient to express sounds : we cannot dispense with sounds,
jand yet they are a long way from sufficient to enable
‘mind, properly so called, to be expressed aloud. In the
end, we cleave to letters and to sound, and are no better
(off than if we had renounced them altogether: what we
communicate, and what is imparted to us, is always
‘only of the most commonplace, by no means worth the
trouble.”
“You want to evade me,” said his friend; ‘for what
‘has that to do with these rocks and pinnacles?”
| “But suppose,” replied the other, “that I treated these
| very rents and fissures as if they were letters: sought to
‘decipher them, fashion them into words, and learned to read
them off-hand : would you have anything against that?”

“ No, but it seems to me an extensive alphabet.”

“ More limited than you think : one has only to learn it
like any other one. Nature possesses only one writing,
and I have no need to drag along with a, number of
scrawls. Here I have no occasion to fear—as may happen
after I have been long and lovingly poring over a parch-
ment—that an acute critic will come and assure me. that
everything is only interpolated.”

“ And yet even here,” replied his friend, laughing,
“ your methods of reading are contested.”

“ Even for that, very reason,” said the other, «1 do not
talk with anybody about it; and with you too, just because
I love you, I will no longer exchange and barter the
wretched trash of empty words.”

 

 

 

 
 
  

30 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

CHAPTER IV.
THE two friends, not without care and difficulty, had

in a shady spot below. The mineral specimens collected

by Montan and Felix were unpacked almost more eagerly

1
i
descended to join the children, who had settled themselves =

5

  

i

3

than the provisions. The latter had many questions to
ask, and the former many names to pronounce. Felix was

delighted that he could tell him the names of them all,
and committed them quickly to memory. At last he

produced one more stone, and said, * What is this one

called ?”

Montan examined it with astonishment, and said,
“Where did you get it?”

Fitz answered quickly, “I found it; it comes from this
country.”

«Tt is not from this district,” replied Montan.

Felix enjoyed seeing the great man somewhat per-
plexed.

“ You shall have a ducat,” said Montan, “if you take
me to the place where it is found.”

“Tt will be easy to earn,” replied Fitz, “but not at
once.” : ;

“ Then describe to me the place exactly, so that I
shall be able to find it without fail. But that is
impossible, for it is a cross-stone, which comes from St.
James of Compostella, and which some foreigner has
lost, if indeed you have not stolen it from him, because
it looks so wonderful.”

“Give our ducat to your friend to take care of,” said
Fitz, “and I will honestly confess where I got the stone.
In the ruined church at St. Joseph's there is a ruined
‘altar as well. Among the scattered and broken stones at
the top I discovered a layer of this stone, which served
i
]
jas a bed for the others, and I knocked down as much
jof it as I could get hold of. If you only lifted away
ithe upper stones, no doubt you would find a good deal
tmore of it.”
| « Take your gold-piece,” replied Montan ; you deserve
\it for this discovery. It is a pretty one. One justly
rejoices when inanimate nature brings to light a semblance
of what we love and venerate. She appears to us in the
form of a sibyl, who sets down beforehand evidence of
what has been predestined from eternity, but can only in
| the course of time become a reality. Upon this, as upon
= miraculous, holy foundation, the priests had set their
| altar.”
| Wilhelm, who had been listening for a time, and who
| had noticed that many names and many descriptions came
over and over again, repeated his already expressed wish
that Montan would tell him so much as he had need of
for the elementary instruction of the boy.
| “Give that up,” replied Montan. «There is (nothing
| more terrible than a teacher who does not know more than
the scholars, at all events, ought to know. He who wants
jo teach others may often indeed be silent about the
|

Crap. IV] WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS, 31

best that he knows, but he must not be half-instructed
himself.”
«But where, then, are such perfect teachers to be
found ?”
| “You can find them very easily,” replied Montan.
| «Where, then?” said Wilhelm, with some incredulity.
| «Wherever the matter which you want to master is at
home,” replied Montan. “The best instruction is derived
from the most complete environment. Do you not learn
foreign languages best in the countries where they are at’
home—where only those given ones and no other strike
your ear?”
«“ And have you, then,” asked Wilhelm, “attained the
knowledge of mountains in the midst of mountains?”
« Of course.”
« Without conversing with people ?” asked Wilhelm.
« At least only with people,” replied the other, «who
were familiar with mountains. Wheresoever the Pygmies,
attracted by the metalliferous veins, bore their way.
a part of what is significant. To possess a subject com- i

   
  
   
   
   

32 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L |

through the rock to make the interior of the earth &
accessible, and by every means try to solve problems of =
the greatest difficulty, there is the place where the thinker J
eager for knowledge ought to take up his station. He =
sees business, action ; lets things follow their own course,
and is glad at success and failure. What is useful is only

pletely, to master it, one has to study the thing for its own 1
sake. But whilst I am speaking of the highest and the
last, to which we raise ourselves only late in the day °
by dint of frequent and fruitful observation, I see the ©
boys before me: to them matters sound quite differ-
ently. The child might easily grasp every species of
activity, because everything looks easy that is excel-
lently performed. Every beginning is difficult! That may i
be true in a certain sense, but more generally one can
say that the beginning of everything is easy, and the
last stages are ascended with most difficulty and most
rarely.”

Wilhelm, who in the meantime had been thinking, said
to Montan, “ Have you really adopted the persuasion that
the collective forms of activity have to be separated in.
precept as well as in practice ?”

“I know no other or better plan,” replied the former.
¢« Whatever man would achieve, must loose itself from
him like a second self; and how could that be pos-
sible if his {rst self were not entirely penetrated there-
with?”

“But yet a many-sided culture has been held to be
advantageous and necessary.”

“It may be so, too, in its proper time,” answered the
other. ¢ Many-sidedness prepares, in point of fact, only
the element in which the one-sided man can work, who
just at this time has room enough given him. Yes, now
is the time for the one-sided; well for him who compre-
hends it, and who works for himself and others in this
mind. In certain things it is understood thoroughly and
at once. Practise till you are an able violinist, and be
assured that the director will have pleasure in assigning
you a place in the orchestra. Make an instrument of
yourself, and wait and see what sort of place humanity
Cumar. IV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 33

will kindly grant you in universal life. Let us break off.
Whoso will not believe, let hin follow his own path : he
too will succeed sometimes; but I say it is needful every-
where to serve from the ranks upwards. To limit oneself
vo a handicraft is the best. For the narrowest heads it is
always a craft; for the better ones an art; and the best,
when he does one thing, does everything—or, to be less
paradoxical, in the one thing, which he does rightly, he
Mohali the semblance of everything that is rightly
one.”

This conversation, which we only reproduce sketchily,
lasted until sunset, which, glorious as it was, yet led
the company to consider where they would spend the
night. ;

«I should not know how to bring you under cover,”
said Fitz, “but if you care to sit or lie down for the night
in a warm place at a good old charcoal-burner’s, you will
be welcome.” !

And so they all followed him through strange paths
to a quiet spot, where anyone would soon have felt at
home.

In the midst of a narrow clearing in the forest there lay
smoking and full of heat the round-roofed charcoal-kilns,
on one side the hut of pine-boughs, and a bright fire close
by. They sat down and made themselves comfortable;
the children at once busy helping the charcoal-burner’s
wife, who, with hospitable anxiety, was getting ready some
slices of bread, toasted with butter so as to let them be
filled and soaked with it, which afforded deliciously oily
morsels to their hungry appetites.

. Presently, whilst the boys were playing at hide-and-
seek among the dimly-lighted pine stems, howling like
wolves and barking like dogs, in sich a way that even a
courageous wayfarer might well have been frightened by
it, the friends talked confidentially about their circum-
stances. i

But now, to the peculiar duties of the Renunciants apper-
tained also this, that on meeting they must speak neither
about the past nor the future, but only occupy themselves
with the present.

Jarno, who had his mind full of mining undertakings,

D
34 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Booxk I.

and of all the knowledge and capabilities that they re-
quired, enthusiastically explained to Wilhelm, with the
utmost exactitude and thoroughness, all that he promised
himself in both hemispheres from such knowledge and
capacities; of which, however, his friend, who always
sought for the true treasure in the human heart alone,
could hardly form any idea, but rather answered at last
with a laugh:

“Thus you stand in contradiction with yourself, when
beginning only in advanced years to meddle with what
one ought to be instructed in from youth up.”

“Not at all,” replied the other, “for it is precisely this,
that I was educated in my childhood at a kind uncle’s, a
mining officer of consequence, that I grew up with the
miner's children, and with them used to swim little bark
boats down the draining channel of the mine, that has led
me back into this circle wherein I now feel myself again
happy and contented. This charcoal smoke can hardly

agree with you as with me, who from childhood up have

been accustomed to swallow it as incense. I have essayed
a oreat deal in the world, and alwa:s found the same:
in habit lies the only satisfaction of man; even the un-
pleasant, to which we have accustomed ourselves, we miss
with regret. I was once troubled a very long time with a
wound that would not heal, and when at last I recovered,
it was most unpleasant to me when the surgeon remained
away and no longer dressed it, and no longer took breakfast
with me.”

“But I should like, however,” replied Wilhelm, ‘to
impart to my son a freer survey of the world than any
limited handicraft can give. Circnmscribe man as you will,
for all that he will at last look about himself in his time,
and how can he understand it all, if he dies not in some
degree know what has preceded him. And would he not
enter every grocer’s shop with astonishment if he had no
idea of the countries whence these indispensable rariiies
have come to him ?”

“What does it matter ?” replied Jarno; “let him read
the newspapers like every Philistine, and drink coffee like
every old woman. But still, if you cannot leave it alone,
and are so bent upon perfect culture, I do not understand

5
i
2
¢
5
A
4
a

 
Crap. IV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 35

how you can be so blind, how you need search any longer,

how you fail to see that you are in the immediate neigh-

bourhood of an excellent educational institution.”

: “In the neighbourhood?” said Wilhelm, shaking his
ead.

«(Certainly ! ” replied the other; ‘what do you sce
here?”

“ Where ?”’

« Here, just before your nose!” Jarno stretched out his
forefinger, and exclaimed impatiently : “What is that?”

« Well then,” said Wilhelm, “ a charcoal-kiln ; but what
has that to do with it?”

“ Good, at last! a charcoal-kiln. How do they proceed
to erect it?”

“They place logs one on the top of the other.”

«When that is done, what happens next?”

“ Ag it seems to me,” said Wilhelm, “you want to pay
me a compliment in Socratic fashion—to make me un-
derstand, to make me acknowledge, that I am extremely
absurd and thick-headed.”

“Not at all,” replied Jarno; “continue, my friend,
to answer to the point. So, what happens then, when
the orderly pile of wood has been arranged solidly yet
lightly?”

“ Why, they set fire to it.”

« And when itis thoroughly alight, when the flame
bursts forth from every crevice, what happens >—do they
let it burn on?”

“Not at all. They cover up the flames, which keep
breaking out again and again, with turf and earth, with
coal-dust, and anything else at hand.”

“To quench them?”

“ Not at all : to damp them down.”

« And thus they leave it just as much air as is neces-
sary, that all may be penetrated with the glow, so that
all ferments aright. Then every crevice is shut, every
outlet prevented ; so that the whole by degrees is extin-
guished in itself, carbonized, cooled down, finally taken
out separately, as marketable wave, forwarded to farrier
and locksmith, to baker and cook; and when it has
served sufficiently for the profit and edification of dear

D2
36 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

Christendom, is employed in the form of ashes by washer-
women and soapboilers.” ke

« Well,” replied Wilhelm, laughing, « what have youin
view in reference to this comparison?” !

“That is not difficult to say,” replied Jarno. “I look
upon myself as an old basket of excellent beech charcoal ;
but in addition I allow myself the privilege of burning
only for my own sake; whence also I appear very strange
to people.” .

« And me,” said Wilhelm; “how will you treat me?”

“At the present moment,” said Jarno, “I look on
you as a pilgrim’s staff, which has the wonderful pro-
perty of sprouting in every corner in which it is put,
but never taking root. Now draw out the comparison
further for yourself, and learn to understand why neither
forester nor gardener, neither charcoal-burner nor joiner,
nor any other craftsman, knows how to make anything
of you.”

Whilst they were talking thus, Wilhelm, T do not know
for what purpose, drew something out of his bosom which
looked half like a pocket-book and half like a case, and
which was claimed by Montan as an old acquaintance.
Our friend did not.deny that he carried it about like a
kind of fetish, from the superstition that his fate, in a
certain measure, depended thereon.

But what it was we would wish at this point not to
confide as yet to the reader; but we may say thus much:
that it led to a conversation the final result of which
was that Wilhelm confessed how he had long ago been
inclined to devot@dimself to a certain special profession,
an art of quite i usefulness, provided that Montan
would use his influence with the guild-brethren, in order
that the most burdensome of all conditions of their life,

that of not tarrying more than three days in one spot,
* might be dispensed with as soon as possible, and that for
the attainment of his purpose, it might be allowed him to
dwell here or there as might please himself. This Montan
promised to do, after the other had solemnly promised
himself unceasingly to pursue the aim which he had
confidentially avowed, and to hold most faithfully to the
purpose which he had once taken up. : Yi

 

 
Crap. IV] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 37

Talking seriously of all this, and continually replying
to one another, they had left their night’s lodgings, where
a wonderfully suspicious company had by degrees gathered
together, and by daybreak had got outside the wood on to
an open space upon which they found some game, at which
Felix particularly, who looked on delightedly, was very
glad. They now prepared to separate ; for here the paths
led towards different points of the compass. Fitz was
now questioned about the different directions, but he
seemed absent, and, contrary to his usual habit, he gave
confused answers.

« You are nothing but a rogue,” said Jarno; * you knew
all of those men, last night, who came and sat down about
us. There were woodcutters and miners, they might pass;
but the later ones I take to be smugglers and poachers, and
the tall one, the very last, who kept writing figures in the
sand, and whom the others treated with a certain respect,
was surely a treasure-digger, with whom you are secretly
in concert.”

“« They are all good people,” Fitz thereupon remarked,
«who live poorly, and if they sometimes do what others
forbid, they are just poor devils, who must give themselves
some liberty, only to live.” ing

In point of fact, however, the little rogue, when he
noticed the preparations of the friends to separate, became
thoughtful. He mused quietly for a time, for he was in
doubt as to which of the parties he should follow. He
reckoned up his prospects: Father and son were liberal with
their silver, but Jarno rather with gold ; he thought it the
best plan not to leave him. Accordingly, he at once seized
an opportunity that offered, when at parting Jarno said to
him : ©“ Now, when I come to St. Joseph's I shall see whether
you are honest; I shall look for the cross-stone and the
ruined altar.” :

«You will not find anything,” said Fitz, “and all the
samo I shall be honest; the stone is from there, but I
have taken away all the pieces, and stored them up here.
It is a valuable stone; without it no treasure can be dug
up. For a little piece they pay me a great deal. You were
quite right ; this is how 1 came to be acquainted with the
tall man.”
38 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

Now there were fresh deliberations. Fitz bound himself
to Jarno, for an additional ducat, to get at a moderate
distance a large piece of this rare mineral, on which
account he advised them not to walk to the Giants’ Castle;
but however, since Felix insisted on it, he admonished
the guide not to take the travellers too deep into the
région, for no one would ever be able to find his way out
again from those caverns and abysses.

They separated, and Fitz promised to meet them again,
in good time, in the halls of the Giants’ Castle.

The guide walked ahead, the two others followed ; the
former, however, had scarcely ascended a certain distance
up the mountain, when Felix observed that they were not
walking on the path which Fitz had indicated.

The messenger replied, however: “I ought to know it
better ; for just these last few days a violent tempest has
knocked down the next stretch of wood ; the trees thrown
one across the other obstruct this path. Follow me; I
will bring you safely to the spot.”

Felix shortened the difficulty of the road by lively
strides and jumps from rock to rock, and rejoiced at the
knowledge he had gained, that he was actually jumping
from granite to granite. :

And so they went upwards, until he at last stopped
short upon some black ruined columns, and all at once
beheld before his eye the Giants’ Castle. Pillared walls
stood out upon a solitary peak. Rows of connected
columns formed doors within doors, aisles beyond aisles.
The guide earnestly warned them not to lose themselves
in the interior ; and noticing at a sunny spot, commanding
a wide view, traces of ashes left by his predecessors, he
busied himself in keeping up a crackling fire. He was
accustomed to prepare a frugal meal at spots of this kind,
and whilst Wilhelm was seeking more correct informa-
tion concerning the boundless prospect, Felix had dis-
appeared ; he must have lost himself within the cavern;
he did not answer their shouting and whistling, and he
did not appear again.

But Wilhelm, who, as beseems a pilgrim, was prepared
against various accidents, took out of his hunting-wallet
a ball of string, carefully tied it fast, and confided himself

 
Cuar. IV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 39

to this guiding clue, by which he had already formed the
intention of taking his son into the interior. Thus he
advanced, and from time to time blew his whistle, but
for a time in vain. But at last there resounded from the
depths a shrill whistle, and soon after Felix looked out on
the ground from a cleft in the black rock.

“ Are you alone?” whispered the boy, cautiously.

«Quite alone,” replied the father.

“Give me some logs of wood! give me some sticks!”
said the boy; and, on receiving them, disappeared, first
exclaiming anxiously, “ Let nobody into the cave!”

But after a time he emerged again, and asked for a still
longer and stronger piece of wood. His father waited
anxiously for the solution of this riddle. At last the bold
fellow arose quickly from out of the cleft, and brought
out a little casket, not bigger than a small octavo volume,
of handsome antique appearance ; it seemed to be of gold,
adorned with enamel.

« Hide it, father, and let no one see it!”

Thereupon he hastily told how, from a mysterious inner
impulse, he had crept into the cleft, and found under-
neath a dimly-lighted space. In it there stood, he said, a
large iron chest, not indeed locked, but the lid of which
he could not raise, and indeed could hardly move. It was
for the sake of mastering this that he had asked for the
wood, partly to place them as supports under the lid, and
partly to push them as wedges between; finally, he had
found the box empty, save in one corner of it the orna-
mented little book. About this they mutually promised
profound secrecy.

Noon was past; they had partaken of some food ; Fitz
had not yet come as he had promised; but Felix was
particularly restless, longing to get away from the spot in
which the treasure seemed exposed to earthly or unearthly
claim. The columns seemed to him blacker, and the
caverns still deeper. A secret had been laid upon him:
a possession—lawful or unlawful? safe or unsafe? Im-
patience drove him from the spot; he thought that
he should get rid of his anxiety by changing his
locality.

They entered upon the road leading to those extensive
40 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IT

possessions of the great landowner of whose riches and
eccentricities they had been told so much. Felix no longer |
leaped about as in the morning, and all three for hours
walked silently on. Sometimes he wished to see the =
little casket, but his father, pointing to the porter, bade
him be quiet. Now he was full of anxiety that Fitz should ©
come. Then again he was afraid of the rogue; now he =
would whistle to give a signal, then again he would repent
having done it; and so his wavering continued until Fitz =
at last made his whistle heard in the distance. He excused
his own absence from the Giants’ Castle: he had been
belated with Jarno; want of breath had hindered him.
Then he inquired minutely how they had got on among
the columns and the caves—how deep they had pene-
trated. Felix, half in bravado, half in embarrassment,
told him one tale after another; he looked smiling at his
father, pinched him by stealth, and did all that was
possible to make it clear that he had a secret, and was
feigning. ;

They had at last reached a carriage-road, which ought
to have taken them comfortably to those domains; but
Fitz declared that he knew a nearer and better road:
upon which the porter would not accompany them, but
continued on the straight broad beaten road before
him. The two wanderers trusted the independent youth,
and thought that they had done well, for now they
went straight down the mountain-side, through a forest
of very tall thin-stemmed larches, which became every
moment more penetrable to the sight, and at last allowed
them to see, in the most brilliant sunlight, the loveliest
demesne that can be imagined.

A large garden, devoted entirely as it seemed to the
cultivation of produce, lay open, although plentifully
planted with fruit-trees, before their eyes; and, regularly
arranged in a number of divisions, covered an area of
ground which, while it accorded with a general plan, was
varied by many diversities of hill and hollow.

Several dwelling-houses lay scattered within it, so that
the space seemed to belong to several owners, but yet, as
Fitz declared, was owned and tilled by one single master.
Beyond the garden they beheld a boundless landscape,

 
Cuar. IV.) WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 41

richly cnltivated and planted. They could plainly discern
various lakes and rivers. .

As they walked down the mountain they had got con-
tinually nearer, and thought that they would be in the
garden directly, when Wilhelm started, and Fitz did not
hide his malignant glee ; for a precipitous cleft at the foot
of the mountain disclosed itself before them, steep enough
from the outside, although from inside fully on a level
with the ground. Thus a deep ditch separated them from
the garden, into which they directly looked.

« We shall have to make rather a long circuit,” said
Titz, «if we want to reach the road which leads into it.
Still, T also know an entrance from this side, which will
be a good deal nearer for us. The tunnels through which
the rain-water is regulated as it rushes into the garden
when it rains are on this side; they are high and wide
enough for one to get through them pretty easily.”

As soon as Felix heard about tunnels he could not
dismiss his curiosity to enter in this way. Wilhelm
followed the children, and they descended together the
steep steps, now lying dry, of these conduit-tunnels.
I'hey found themselves alternately in light and darkness,
according as the light fell through side-openings, or was
intercepted by columns and walls. At last they reached
a tolerably level part, and were walking slowly forwards,
when suddenly close to them a report was heard, and two
hidden iron gratings closed and shut them in on either
side. Not indeed the whole company, but only Felix and
Wilhelm were imprisoned ; for Fitz, as soon as the noise
was heard, sprang back at once, and the closing grating
caught only his large sleeves; but he, throwing off his
jacket very quickly, escaped without waiting a moment.

The two captives had scarcely time to recover from
their astonishment, when they heard human voices, which
seemed to approach slowly. Then presently came some
people with arms and torches to the grating, looking
curiously to see what sort of capture they had made.
They at once asked whether they would quietly sur-
render.

« There can be no question of surrender here,’ replied
Wilhelm ; “ we are in your power. We rather have reason

’
  

42 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL. ]

to ask whether you will spare us. I deliver unto you the i

only weapon that we carry with us,” and with these

words he handed his hunting-knife through the grating. i

This was at once opened, and quite leisurely the new

comers were taken onwards, and after being led up a i

winding stair, they soon found themselves in a curious

place. It was a neat, spacious room, lit by small windows |
beneath the cornices, which in spite of strong iron bars |
shed sufficient light. For seats, sleeping-places, and
whatever else could be required in a decent lodging, pro-
vision had been made, and it seemed as if nothing was
wanting to one who found himself there but his liberty.

Wilhelm on entering, at once sat down and thought
over the situation. Felix, on the contrary, when he had
recovered from his astonishment, broke out into an in-
credible rage. These high walls, these lofty windows,
these barred doors, this isolation, this confinement—was
altogether new to him. He looked about, he ran hither
and thither, stamped his feet, wept, rattled at the doors,
beat with his fists against them ; nay, he was on the point
of running with his forehead against them, if Wilhelm had
not caught him, and forcibly held him back.

“Only keep yourself quite quiet, my son,” began his
father, for impatience and violence will not help us
out of this situation. The mystery will clear itself up;
but I should be very much mistaken, if we have not fallen
into good hands. Look at these inscriptions: ¢ Deliverance
and compensation for the innocent,” ‘ Pity for the tempted,’
and ¢ Retributive justice for the culprit. All this shows
us that these arrangements are works of necessity, and
not of cruelty. Man has only too much cause to protect
himself against man. Of malevolent people there are °
indeed many, and of evildoers not a few: and to live as it
behoves, it is not enough always to do well.”

Felix had collected himself, but threw himself at once
upon one of the beds, without any further demonstration
or reply. His father did not desist, but said further:

“ Let this experience, which you are gaining so early
and so innocently, remain with you as living evidence of
which and of what a perfect century you have been born
in. What a long road has not humanity been forced to

 
 Cuar, IV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 43

make, before it reached the point of being gentle to the
guilty, merciful to the culprit, humane to the inhuman!
They certainly were men of a divine nature who first
taught this, and spent their lives in making possible and
hastening its practice. Men are seldom susceptible of the
beautiful ; more often of the good ; and how highly must
we then hold those who seek to promote this at the cost of
great sacrifices.

These comforting, instructive words, which quite clearly
expressed the purpose of the confining surroundings, Felix
‘had not heard. He lay fast asleep, prettier and fresher
‘than ever; for a passion, such as in general he was not
easily subject to, bad driven his whole inner being into
his full cheeks. His father stood looking complacently at
him, when a well-dressed young man entered, who, after
he had looked for a while at the stranger in a friendly
manner, began to ask him about the circumstances that
had led him on the unusual path into this trap. Wilhelm
told him about the occurrence straightforwardly, handed
him certain papers which served to declare his identity,
and referred him to the porter, who must soon arrive by
!the ordinary road from the other side. When all this
was clear so far, the official begged his guest to follow
him. It was impossible to arouse Felix; the servants
therefore carried him upon the strong mattress, like the
unconscious Ulysses of old, into the open air.

Wilhelm followed the official into a pretty garden,
where refreshments were set out, which he was bidden
to enjoy, whilst the other went to deliver his report at
headquarters. When Felix, on awaking, beheld a little
table laid out with fruit, wine, and biscuits, as also the
cheerful prospect through the open door, he felt quite
bewildered. He runs out, he returns, he thinks he
has been dreaming, and over such good fare and such
pleasant surroundings has soon forgotten his previous
terror and all his sotrow, like an unpleasant dream in
broad daylight.

The porter had arrived, the official returned with him,
and with another older and still more kindly man; and
the matter was cleared up in the following manner. The
master of this estate, benevolent in the higher sense, in

 

 
   

44 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boos L

that he aroused all about him to activity and industry,
had for many years disposed of young plants from his

extensive nursery-garden—to industrious and careful culti- =
vators for nothing— to the negligent at a certain price—and |
likewise at a price, though a low one, to those who wished
to trade with them. These two latter classes, however, *
demanded gratuitously what only the worthy received -
gratuitously, and as they were not yielded to they sought
to purloin the plants. They had succeeded in doing so in
various manners. This vexed the owner all the more, *
because not only were the nurseries plundered, but by =
excessive haste had also been injured. There were traces
of their having entered through the water-channel, and on
that account the grating with a spring-gun had been
arranged, though it was only meant to serve as a symbol. =
The little boy had under many pretexts allowed himself

to be seen in the garden, and nothing was more natural
than that, from audacity and roguery, he should wish
to take the strangers by a road which he had found out i
earlier, with a different object in view. They had wished

to make him prisoner; meanwhile, his jacket would be

preserved amongst other penal objects.
{i45)

CHAPTER V,

Ox the road to the castle, our friend, to his astonish-
ment, found nothing that would have resembled an older
 pleasure-garden or a modern park. Upon a gently sloping
‘space he beheld, in one glance, fruit-trees planted in
straight lines, vegetable beds, large plots sown with
medicinal herbs, and only what could be esteemed useful
lin some way or other. A space, shaded round by tall
| lime-trees, expanded like an entrance-hall worthy of
the fine building; a long alley leading out of it with
trees of similar growth and beauty afforded an oppor-
tunity, at every hour of the day, of taking exercise
or strolling in the open air. On entering the castle, he
fonnd the walls of the ground floor covered in a peculiar
fashion : large geographical drawings of all the four quar-
ters of the world met his eye. The walls of the stately
staircase were similarly adorned with maps of particular
countries ; and on being admitted into the principal hall,
he found himself surrounded by views of the most remark-
able cities, enclosed above and below by landscape pictures
of the neighbourhoods in which they were situated; all
depicted with such art, that the peculiarities of each
distinctly met the eye, and at the same time an un-
interrupted connexion was perceptible throughout. The
master of the house, a cheerful little man, somewhat
advanced in years, welcomed his guest, and asked, without
further introduction, pointing to the walls, whether by
chance one of these towns were known to him; whether
he had ever lived in any of them ? Of many of them our
friend was now able to give an account at length, and
prove that he had not only seen several of the places, but
also that he had not neglected to observe carefully their
condition and peculiarities.

 
   

46 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book L |

The master rang, and ordered that a room should be
assigned to the two guests; and that presently they
should be shown in to supper, which was accordingly ©
done. In a large hall on the ground floor two ladies
advanced towards him, one of whom said to him with
great liveliness: « Here you will find little company, but
good. I, the younger niece, am called Hersilia; this my
elder sister is named Julietta; the two gentlemen are
father and son, officials, as yon know—friends of the
family, who enjoy all the confidence that they deserve. ©
Let us sit down!” ‘I'he two ladies placed Wilhelm
between them, the officials sat at the ends, Felix at the
other side, where he at once moved himself opposite to
Hersilia, and never took his eyes off her.

After some general preliminary talk, Hersilia seized an
opportunity of saying: “In order that the stranger may
the sooner become familiar with us, and initiated into our
conversation, I must acknowledge that we read a great deal
here, and that by accident, inclination, and perhaps also
from a spirit of contradiction, we have divided ourselves
amongst the different literatures. Our uncle has taken
to the Italian ; this lady, here, does not take it ill to be
thought a perfect Engiishwoman; but I hold to the French,
in so far as they are cheerful and elegant. Papa-steward
here rejoices in German antiquities, and the son is thus
able, as is fitting, to devote his sympathy to the more
modern and younger. You will judge of us accordingly,
take part accoruingly, agree or dispute; in every sense
you will be welcome.” And in this sense, too, the con-
versation grew animated.

In the meantime the direction of the handsome Felix’s
ardent glances had by no means escaped Hersilia; she
felt surprised and flattered, and sent him the most
delicate morsels, which he glad'y and thankfully re-
ceived. But at dessert, as he was looking towards her
across a dish of apples, she fancied that in the splendid
fruit she beheld so many rivals. Quick as thought
she seized an apple, and reached it across the table
to the enterprising youth. He, seizing it hastily, at once
began to peel it; but as he looked unremittingly at his
lovely opposite neighbour, he cut himself deeply in the

 

 

 

 

 
| Crap. V.] THE WITLESS WANDERER. 47

thnmb. The blood flowed quickly: Hersilia jumped up
and attended to him, and when the blood had been stopped,
she closed the wound with English plaster from her case.
In the meantime the boy had caught hold of her and
would not let her go; the interruption became general,
the company rose from the table, and preparations were
made to separate.

“1 suppose you read before going to sleep,” said
Hersilia to Wilhelm ; “I will send you a manuscript, a
translation from the French by myself, and you shall say
whether you have ever met with anything prettier. A
distracted girl enters upon the scene—that perhaps might
not be any particular recommendation ; but if I ever should
become demented, as I sometimes have a wish to be, it
would be in this manner.”

 

«Tug WiTLESS WANDERER.

“ Herr von Revanne, a rich private gentleman, pos-
sesses the finest estates in his province. Together with
his son and sister, he inhabits a chateau that would
be worthy of a prince; and, in fact, as his park, his
waterworks, his farms, his manufactures, and his house-
hold, support one half the inhabitants for six miles
round, he is, by his high repute and by the good that
he causes, a prince in reality.

“ A few years ago he was walking along the walls of his
park out towards the public road, and it pleased him to
rest himself in a little plantation in which travellers are
fond of stopping awhile. Tall trees rear their tops above
the young dense undergrowth; provision is made against
sun and wind, and a modestly-fitted fountain gives forth,
its ‘water over the roots, stones, and turf.

“The pedestrian, according to his wont, carried with him.
a book and a gun. Now and then he attempted to read,
but often the song of the birds, and sometimes the steps
of a traveller, pleasantly interrupted and disturbed him.

A beautiful morning was fast advancing, when a youth-
ful and amiable-looking young lady appeared walking
towards him. She left the road, seeming to promise herself
48 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor ri

rest and refreshment at the cool spot where he was. This
wanderer, who had the loveliest eyes in the world, and |
a face pleasingly animated by expression, was also dis- |
tinguished to such a degree by figure and demeanour, that |
he involuntarily got up from his seat and looked towards
the road to see if the attendants, whom he supposed to be |
behind her, were coming. As she bowed towards him |
with dignity, her figure again attracted his attention,
and he respectfully answered her greeting. The beautiful
wayfarer sat down on the margin of the fountain with a |

sigh, without uttering a word.

«Strange effect of sympathy!’ exclaimed Herr von. i

Revanne, as he told me the event: ‘in the stillness this

sigh was echoed by me. I remained standing, without |

knowing what I ought to say or do. My eyes did not

avail me to take in all her perfections. Lying thus

reclined and resting on her elbow, she was the most
beauteous female form one could imagine! Her shoes

    

gave occasion for special observation on my part: all

covered with dust, they bore witness to her having
walked a long distance; and still her silken stockings:

were as shining as if they just then had been taken from
beneath the smoothing-stone. Her fastened-up dress was
not rumpled ; her hair seemed to have been curled that
very morning; fine linen, fine lace: she was dressed as
if she were going to a ball. Nothing betrayed in her the
vagabond ; and yet she was one, but one to be pitied and
revered.

«“¢ At last I took advantage of certain glances which

she cast towards me, to ask if she were travelling alone.

«¢« Veg sir,” said she, “I am alone in the world.”

«¢<« How, madam ? Can you be without parents, with-
out acquaintances?’

«««T ghould not exactly say that, sir; parents I have,
and acquaintances enough, but no friends.”

«“¢« That,” I continued, cannot possibly be your own
fault. You possess an outward form, and surely too a
heart, to which much would be forgiven.”

«“¢She felt the kind of reproof which was hidden
beneath my compliment, and I formed a favourable idea of
her good-breeding. She opened towards me two heavenly.
 

Cuar. V.] THE WITLESS WANDERER. 49

eyes of the most perfect and purest azure, transparent and
sparkling ; then she said in a dignified tone, that she could
not blame a gentleman, as I seemed to be, for looking
with some degree of suspicion on a young girl whom he
met alone on the high road; that had often happened to
her already ; still, although entirely a stranger, although
nobody had any right to cross-question her, she neverthe-
less begged him to believe that the object of her jour-
ney was consistent with the strictest decorum. Certain
causes, of which she owed nobody an account, compelled
her to carry her grief about in the world. She had found
that the dangers that people used to fear for her sex were
purely imaginary, and that the honour of a woman even
among highwaymen only ran a risk through weakness
of heart or of principles. Moreover, she only walked
at hours and on roads where she thought herself safe;
that she did not speak to everybody, and often stayed at
respectable places, where she could earn her maintenance
‘by services of any sort consistent with her education.
Here she lowered her voice; she dropped her eyelids, and
I saw a few tears steal down her cheek.

«<To this I replied that I by no means doubted her
gentle extraction, and still less her honourable conduct. I
only regretted that any necessity should compel her to
serve other people, since she seemed so worthy of having
servants herself; and that notwithstanding a lively curi-
osity, I would not further press her; that I wished rather
by knowing her better to convince myself that she was in

all respects as anxious about her reputation as her virtue.
| These words seemed again to offend her, for she answered
that she concealed her name and her country precisely
on account of her reputation, which after all generally
comprises less of reality than of supposition. When she
offered her services she showed testimonials from the last
| houses in which she had served, and did not conceal that
| she wished not to be asked about her country or her
| family. To this people accommodated themselves, and
| left to Heaven or to her own word the innocence of her
| whole life, and her honesty. Expressions of this kind did
| not cause a suspicion of any mental derangement on the
| part of the beautiful adventuress.’

E
50 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Booz I. &

« Herr von Revanne, who could not well understand q

this determination to wander about in the world, sus-

pected now that there had been an intention of marry-
ing her against her inclination. Thereupon the thought
occurred to him, Might it not be despair from love? and =

wonderfully enough, though such a thing has happened

before, in giving her credit for loving another, he fell in i

love with her himself, and feared lest she might travel i

further away. He could not turn his eyes away from

her fair face, the beauty of which was enhanced by the
green half-licht. Never, if ever there were nymphs, was
a fairer one seen reclining on the green sward; and the
somewhat romantic nature of this meeting endued it with =

a charm which he was unable to resist.

«So, without considering the thing very carefully, Herr

von Revanne induced the fair stranger to let him conduct

her to the chateau. She makes no difficulty; she goes
with him, and shows herself to be a person acquainted
with the great world. Refreshments are brought, which

she accepts without affected politeness and with the most
graceful acknowledgments. Whilst waiting for dinner,
she is shown over the house. She only remarks on what

deserves special notice, whether in furniture or pictures,

or in something pertaining to the convenient arrangement
of the roonis. She finds a library: she knows the good

books, she speaks about them with taste and modesty. =

No chattering, no embarrassment. At table, just the same
high-bred and natural demeanour, and the most amiable
style of conversation. So far, everything is rational in her
speech, and her character seems as amiable as her person.

« After dinner a little trait of self-will made her seem

still prettier. Turning to Friulein Revanne with a

smile, she said that it was a custom of hers to pay

tor her mid-day meal with some work, and whenever
money failed her, to ask her hostesses for needles. ‘Allow
me, ’ she added, ‘to leave a flower behind on your em-
broidery frame, so that in future the sight of it may
remind you of the poor stranger.’

 

 

 

Soda

“To this Friulein Revanne replied, that she was very )

sorry that she had no pattern drawn, and should therefore
be obliged to forego the pleasure of admiring her ability.

 
Crap. V.] THE WITLESS WANDERER. 51

«The wanderer immediately turned her glance towards
the piano.

«¢Then I shall discharge my debt in “ wind-money,”’
she said, ‘as has been the fashion of other strolling
minstrels before now.” She tried the instrument with two
or three preludes that showed a well-practised hand.
There was no longer any doubt but that she was a young
lady of condition, endowed with all attractive accomplish-
ments. At first her performance was lively and brilliant ;
then she passed into serious tones, to tones of deep melan-
choly, which was also visible in her eyes. They became
wet with tears, her face was changed, her fingers stayed ;
but of a sudden she surprised every one, by delivering
merrily and laughingly a bantering song with the love-
liest voice in the world. As there may be reason in the
sequel for thinking that this burlesque ballad concerned
herself more closely, I shall probably be pardoned for
inserting it here: *

« ( thou in cloak, so speedy, whence!
Ere scarce the day begins to break?
A pilgrimage our friend, perchance,
In this keen wind has vowed to male.
Who of his hat has him deprived?
Does he on purpose barefoot go?

How has he in the wood arrived
Across the hilly waste of snow?

«Richt marvellous, from cosy nest,
Which did to better cheer invite!
And had he not this flowing vest,
How terrible would be his plight!
That rascal must have him betrayed,
And tuken all he had to wear;
Our friend is piteously arrayed,
Nigh like to Adam, stark and bare,

«Why did he, then, such ways pursue,
To pluck an apple full of woe

That in the mill-plot—fair, ’t is true,
As erst in Paradise—did grow.

a —————e

* (Goethe inserted a version of this ballad in Schiller’s Musenal-
manach for 1799, before he translated the story. The French original
is ¢ La Folle en Pélérinage.’ ”

E
52

WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

Not soon again such sport he’ll try:
Forth from the house he quickly went,
And, once beneath the open sky,
Breaks out in loud and bitter plaint:

«< Amil her looks, so full of light,

« read no syllable of guile;
In me she seemed to have delight—

And planned so black a deed the while!
Co ld I divine, in her embrace,

How treacherously her bosom moved ?
She called on Love to stay his pace,

And kind enough to us he proved.

%¢ Such pleasure in my love to take,
Which ne’er did end the livelong night,
Then call and bid her mother wake,
Just at the dawn of morning light!
A dozen round of kith and kin
Burst in—a very human flood :
Here brothers came, and aunts peeped in;
There cousins or an uncle stood.

%¢< What rage and madness on them came!
A very beast each seemed to be:
Then wreath and garland they did claim,
With din most horrible, from me.
“ Why do ye all, as if insane,
Upon a guiltless youth so press?
For such-like treasures to obtain,
One needs, I trow, much more address.

«¢« And Amor sure enough takes heed
Of when to have his pretty will;
And flowers of sixteen years indeed
He leaves not standing at the mill.”?
So did they him of clothing rob,
And tried to take his cloak and all;
How e’er did such a cursed mob
Into the narrow dwelling crawl?

«¢So up I sprang, and raved and swore

Through all, I wis, to force my way

I gave the mad girl one glance more,
And ah, so lovely still she lay!

Before my wrath they all were cowed,
Yet many a wild word flew about;

And so, with voice as thunder loud,
The den at last I got without.

 

 

 

 

 

 
Cuar. V.] THE WITLESS WANDERER. 53

“¢ You maidens, then, of rustic sort,
Like city wenches, one must flee;
Yet fooling lovers is a sport
Best left to dames of high degree ;
And if to practise ye are fain,
And know no gentle faith in love,
Change lovers o’er and o’er again,
But traitors must ye never prove!’

% So sings he in this wintry tide,

When ne'er a sorry blade is green ;
His dire misfortunes I deride,

For rightly is he served, I ween.
So may it hap to every wight

Who sweetheart true by day deludes,
And all too recklessly by night

Into Love's treacherous mill intrudes

“Tt was indeed ominous that she could forget herself
in such a fashion; and this outbreak might have served
for an indication of a head that was not at all times equal
to itself. :

“¢« But, said Herr von Revanne to me, ‘ we also forgot
all remarks that we might have made: I do not know
how it came to pass. The unspeakable grace with which
she performed these freaks must have prejudiced us.
She played fantastically, but with understanding. She
controlled her fingers completely, and her voice was
really bewitching. When she had finished, she seemed
as composed as before, and we thought that she had only
wished to enliven the after-dinner interval.’

«¢Soon after she asked for permission to resume her
journey; but at a sign from me my sister said that, if she
was not in a hurry, it would be a treat to us to have her
with us for several days. I thought of offering her some
occupation, since for once she agreed to remain. Yet
this first day and the following one we only took her
about the place. She never belied herself for one single
moment ; she was Reason endued with every grace. Her
mind was subtle and striking, her memory so well stored,
and her disposition so beautiful, that she repeatedly
aroused our admiration, and fettered all our attention.
Moreover, she knew the rules of good behaviour, and
practised them towards every ome of us, and no less
54 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

towards certain friends who visited us, so perfectly, that
we found it impossible to reconcile her singularities with
such a degree of education.

«¢J really no longer ventured to suggest any plans
for household occupation with us. My sister, who was
much pleased with her, likewise thought it her duty
to spare the delicate feelings of this Unknown. They
managed the household affairs together, and with respect
to these the good child would often condescend to perform
manual work, and understood how to take her part in
everything which required higher arrangement and
calculation.

« «In a short time she established a degree of order, such
as we had hitherto certainly not felt the want of in the
chateau. She was a very sensible housekeeper; and, as
she had commenced with sitting at table with us, she did
not, from false modesty, withdraw herself now, but con-
tinued to dine with us without any hesitation; but she
did not touch any cards or instrument before she had
brought to an end the duties which she had undertaken.

“ «Now, I must freely confess that the fate of this girl
began to move me most profoundly. I pitied the parents,
who probably would sorely miss such a daughter; I
sighed that such gentle virtues and so many endowments
should be lost. She had already lived several months with
us, and I hoped that the confidence with which we sought
to inspire her would at last bring the secret to her lips.
If it were a misfortune, we might help; if a fault, it was
to be hoped that our mediation, our testimony, might be
able to gain forgiveness for her for any transient error;
but all our assurances of friendship, our prayers even,
were in vain. If she perceived an intention of winning
an explanation from her, she would shelter herself behind
general moralizations, in order to justify herself, without
informing us. For instance, if we spoke to her about her
ill-fortune: * Misfortune,” she would say, ¢ falls upon both
good and evil. It isa potent medicine, which attacks the
good juices along with the bad.”

“¢ If we tried to discover the reason of her flight from
her paternal home: ¢If the deer flies,” she said, laughing,
“it is not therefore guilty.” If we asked whether she

 
Cuar. V.] THE WITLESS WANDERER. 55

had suffered persecutions: “It is the fate of many girls
of good birth to experience and endure persecutions. He
who cries at an offence will meet with more.” But how
could she have made up her mind to expose her life to
the roughness of the multitude, or at least to owe it
often to its compassion ? At this she would laugh again,
and say, « The poor man who greets the rich at table does
not lack sense.” Once, as the conversation turned to jest,
we spoke to her of lovers, and asked whether she did not
know the chilly hero of her ballad. Istill remember well
how this word seemed to cut through her. She opened
towards me a pair of eyes, so serious, so severe, that mine
could not endure such a glance; and afterwards, too,
whenever love was spoken of, one was sure to see the
grace of her person and the vivacity of her spirit over-
clouded. She immediately fell into thoughtfulness, which
we took for brooding, but which probably was only grief.
Still, upon the whole she remained cheerful, but with-
out great liveliness; high-bred, without giving herself
importance; frank without communicativeness, reserved
without sensitiveness; rather patient than meek, and
more grateful than affectionate in return for all caresses
and courtesies. She was certainly a lady, educated to
preside over a large household ; and yet she did not seem
older than one-and-twenty. So did this incomprehensible
young person, who had quite captivated me, show herself
during the two years which it pleased her to stay with
us; until she wound up with a piece of folly, which is
all the more strange as her qualities were sterling and
brilliant. My son, who is younger than I, will be able
to console himself, but as concerns myself, I fear that I
shall be weak enough to miss her always.

«Now I will relate this act of folly in a sensible
woman, to show that folly often is nothing but reason
under another exterior. It is true that one will find a
strange contradiction between the noble character of the
pilgrim and the comical cunning of which she availed
herself; but we already know two of her inconsistencies
—the pilgrimage itself and the ballad.’

« It is probably clear that Herr von Revanne had fallen
in love with the stranger. Now, he could not altogether
56 * WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor I.

rely upon his face, which was fifty years old, although he 4
looked as fresh and robust as a man of thirty ; but perhaps =
he hoped to please by his pure, childlike health, by the =

goodness, cheerfulness, gentleness, generosity of his cha-

racter ; perhaps also by his fortune, although he had

delicacy enough to feel, that one does not buy what is
riceless.

« But the son, on the other hand, amiable, tender, high-
spirited, without taking more thought than his father,
rushed headlong into the venture. First he tried pru-
dently to win the unknown one who had first become
really appreciated by him through the praise and the
friendship of his father and aunt. He made sincere
efforts to gain an amiable woman, whom his passion
seemed to have raised far above her present condition.
Her severity more than her merits and her beauty, in-
flamed his love; he ventured to speak, to undertake, to
promise.

«The father, without wishing it himself, always gave to
his wooing a somewhat paternal aspect. He knew him-
self, and when he had become aware of his rival, he could
not hope to conquer him, unless he were willing to adopt
means which do not beseem a man of principle. Never-

theless he pursued his course, although it was not un-

known to him that kindness, nay, even fortune, are only
attractions to which a young woman yields herself with
caution; but which remain ineffectual as soon as love
reveals itself with the charms of, and accompanied by,
youth. Herr von Revanne also made other mistakes,

which he repented later. In the midst of a friendship

full of esteem, he spoke of ‘a lasting, secret, legal union.’
He even complained, and uttered the word ‘ingratitude.
Surely he did not know her whom he loved, when one
day he said to her, that many benefactors received back
evil for good. The Unknown answered him with frank-
ness: Many benefactors would like to acquire all the
rights of their protégés at the price of a lentil. The
beautiful stranger, involved in the courtship of two rivals,
induced by unknown motives, seems to have had no other
intention but to spare herself and others any foolish
pranks, and in these doubtful circumstances adopted

 
Crap. V.] THE WITLESS WANDERER 57

a wonderful expedient. The son pressed her with the
boldness of his age, and threatened, as usual, to sacrifice
his life to the inexorable one. The father, somewhat less
unreasonable, was still equally pressing; both were in
earnest. This amiable creature might now probably
have assured herself of a well-deserved position of life;
for both the Herren von Revanne aver that it had been
their intention to marry her.

“But from the example of this girl let woman learn
that an honest soul, even if the mind should have given
way to vanity or to real derangement, does not cherish
the wounds of the he. t which it is not willing to heal.
The pilgrim felt that she was standing at a critical point,
where it would not be so easy for her to defend herself
long. She was in the power of two lovers, who could
excuse every pressure with the purity of their motives,
inasmuch as they intended to justify their boldness by
a sanctified tie. So it was, and so she understood it.

« She could shelter herself behind Fraulein von Revanne ;
but she omitted to do so, no doubt from consideration,
from esteem for her benefactors. She is not put out of
countenance ; she thinks out a method for preserving to
each his virtue, whilst she allows her own to be suspected.
She is mad with a fidelity which her lover certainly does
not deserve, if he feels not all her sacrifices, even if they
should remain unknown to him.

“One day, as Herr von Revanne returned somewhat
too impetuously the friendship, the gratitude, which she
showed towards him, she assumed on a sudden a simple
manner, which struck him. ‘Your goodness, sir, alarms
me ; and allow me frankly to confess why. I feel indeed
that only to you I owe my whole gratitude; but in
fact ?

«¢ Cruel girl!’ said Herr von Revanne. ¢I understand
you ; my son has touched your heart ?

«“<Alas! sir, it has not stopped there. I can only
express by my confusion

«“¢<How? Mademoiselle, you would

«<Tndeed I think so,” said she, as she bent low down
and dropped a tear—for women are never at a loss for a
tear in their artifices, nor for an excuse for their evil-doing.

 

 

 

?

 
58 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. = (Box I.

« Smitten with love as Herr von Revanne was, still he =
was forced to wonder at this new kind of innocent sincerity
in such circumstances, and he found the lowly posture
very much in place. :

««But, mademoiselle, it is quite incomprehensible to me.”

«To me too, said she, and the tears flowed more
abundantly. They flowed so long that at last Herr von
Revanne, after a very unpleasant reverie, again broke
silence with a quiet air, and said :

«¢This enlightens me! I see how ridiculous are my
pretensions. I bestow on you no reproaches; and as the
only penalty for the grief which you cause me, I promise
you so much of his inheritance as is necessary to show
whether he loves you as much as 1.”

«¢Alas, sir, have pity on my innocence, and tell him
nothing about it.’

«To ask for secrecy is not the means to obtain it.
After these steps, the fair Unknown now expected to see
her lover before her full of anger and highly incensed.
He soon appeared with a look which augured annihilating
words. However, he was choked, and could bring out no
more than, ¢ How, mademoiselle, is it possible ?

«¢« Well, what is it, sir? she said, with a laugh, which
on such an occasion can provoke despair.

«<How ? What is it? Away! mademoiselle; you are a
nice creature! But at least legitimate children are not to
be disinherited ; it is quite enough to accuse them. Yes,
mademoiselle, I see through your conspiracy with my
father. You two give me a son, and he is my brother.
Of that I am certain.’

“ With the same quiet cheerful countenance the lovely
unwise one answered him, ¢ You are certain of nothing:
it is neither your son nor your brother. Boys are
naughty ; Ihave never wanted one. It is a poor little girl
that I will také away, far away, quite far from men—
wicked, foolish, faithless men.’

“Then, giving free vent to her heart: ¢ Farewell,’ she
continued, ¢ farewell, dear Revanne! From Nature you
have an honest heart ; keep to the principles of upright-
ness. These are not dangerous with well-established
wealth. Be kind towards the poor. He who despises the

 
Crap. V.] THE WITLESS WANDERER. 59

| prayer of troubled innocence, will one day himself beg,
and not be listened to. He who has no scruple in setting
at naught the scruples of an unprotected girl, will himself
become the victim of unscrupulous women. He who does
not feel what a chaste girl must feel when she is being
wooed, deserves not to gain her. He who, against all
| reason, against the intentions, against the design of his
family, constructs schemes in behalf of his own passions,

deserves to be deprived of the fruits of his passions, and to
lose the esteem of his family. I believe indeed that you have
loved me sincerely ; but, my dear Revanne, the cat knows
well whose beard it licks; and if you ever become the
beloved of a worthy wife, then remember the mill of
the unfaithful one. Learn from my example to rely on
| the constancy and discretion of your beloved. You know
' whether I am unfaithful; your father knows it also. I
' intended to roam through the world and to expose my-
self to all dangers; surely the greatest are those which
threatened me in this house. But because you are young
I tell it to you only and in confidence: men and women
are only unfaithful of set purpose; and that I wanted to
prove to the friend of the mill, who perhaps will see me
again, when his heart will have become sufficiently pure
to miss what he has lost.’

“ Young Revanne still listened, though she had finished
speaking. He stood as if struck by lightning; tears at
last unclosed his eyes, and in this state of emotion he ran
to his aunt, his father, to tell them that mademoiselle
was going away, that mademoiselle was an angel, or rather
a demon, roaming about in the world in order to torture
the hearts of everybody. But the wanderer had taken
her measures so well that she was not found again; and
when father and son had come to a mutual explanation,
her innocence, her talents, and her insanity, were no
longer doubted ; and, great as were the pains that Herr
von Revanne took from that time, he did not succeed in
obtaining the least enlightenment in reference to this
beautiful person, who had made her appearance as
transiently and in as lovely a form as an angel.”

 
NL em

 
  

60 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

CHAPTER VIL

AFTER a long and thorough rest, of which the travellers
might well stand in need, Felix jumped actively out of
his bed, and made haste to dress himself; and, as his
father thought he noticed, with more care than hitherto.
Nothing fitted him neatly or smartly enough: he would
have liked everything to be newer and less worn. He
sprang into the garden, and only tasted on the way a little
of the first meal, which the servant had brought for the
guests, since the ladies would not appear in the garden
for another hour. 4
The servant was accustomed to entertain strangers, and
to show many of the things in the house; so he conducted
- our friends also into a gallery, in which only portraits were
hung up and exhibited—all of persons who had worked
in the eighteenth century—a large and glorious company ;
pictures and busts as well, when possible, by excellent
masters.
/~ “You will not find,” said the keeper, “in the whole
castle, a single picture that points even distantly to re-
~ ligion, tradition, mythology, legend or fable: our master
wishes that the imaginative power shall only be re-
quired to make present to itself the True. We deal
enough in fiction, he is wont to say, without needing to :
exalt still higher this dangerous quality of our intellect
by external stimulants.”

Wilhelm’s question, when they might expect him down,
he answered with the information that his master, accord-
ing to his habit, had ridden out quite early. He was
accustomed to say: “Observation is life!” “You will
see this and other maxims, in which he reflects himself,
written in the fields above the gates—as for instance

 
 

 

Crap. VL.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 61

we forthwith light upon: ¢ From the Useful, through the

| True, to the Beautiful.’”

The women had already prepared the breakfast under the
| lime-trees ; Felix frolicked about them, trying by all sorts
of follies and extravagances to bring himself forward so as
| to get a warning or a reproof from Hersilia. The sisters
| now tried by frankness and communicativeness to gain
the confidence of their taciturn guest, who pleased them ;
they told him about a favourite cousin, who had been
three years absent, and was presently expected home ;
about a worthy aunt, who lived in her castle at no great
distance, and was to be regarded as the tutelary genius of
the family. In a state of bodily decay, she was described as
| being in blooming health of spirit, just as if the voice of
"a primeval sibyl no longer visible were to utter, quite
simply, pure divine words on human things.

The new guest now turned his conversation and ques-
tions to the present. He wished to know the noble uncle
more closely in a purely distinctive activity : he thought
of the road which he had pointed out, “ From the Useful,
through the True, to the Beautiful,” and sought to inter-
pret the words after his own fashion—in which, moreover,
he succeeded quite well, and had the good fortune to gain
Julietta’s approval.

Hersilia, who up to this time had remained silently
smiling, replied on the other hand: “ We women are in a
peculiar position. We hear the maxims of men continu-
ally repeated, nay, we have to behold them in gilt letters
above our heads, and yet we girls might be able in private
to say the very reverse, which would also pass current,
as is precisely the case in the present instance. The
Beautiful maiden finds admirers, also suitors, and pro-
bably at last a husband; then she arrives at the True,
which may not prove to be the pleasantest possible, and
if she is wise she will devote herself to the Useful,
attend to house and children, and in this abide. At
least I have often found it so. We girls have time to
observe, and then we generally find what we did not
look for.”

A messenger from the uncle arrived with the news
that the whole party was invited to dinner at a neigh-

ny
 
 
  
 

62 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor I.

bouring hunting-box; they could either ride or drive 3

thither.

Hersilia chose to ride. Felix also begged urgently that =
they would give him a horse. It was agreed that Julietta 3
should drive with Wilhelm, and that Felix as a page
should be indebted for his first ride to the lady of his

young heart.

In the meantime Julietta drove with her new friend

through a series of plantations that all pointed to utility
and enjoyment ; nay, the innumerable fruit-trees made it
doubtful whether the fruit could ever all be consumed.
“You have passed through such a wonderful ante-
chamber into our society, and have found so much that
is really uncommon and strange, that I may suppose that
you wish to know the connexion of all this. All depends
on the spirit and sense of my excellent uncle. The

vigorous years of this noble person’s manhood fell in .

the time of Beccaria * and Filangieri;t the maxims of
a universal humanitarianism prevailed at that time on
all sides. But his striving spirit and severe character
transformed this general ideal into ideas which occupied
themselves with the practical. He did not conceal from
us, how according to his own fashion he had transformed
that liberal motto : ¢ The Best for the largest number,’ and
destined ¢ For the Many, the Desirable.” The most cannot find
or know what is the best, still less procure it. But many
are always around us : what they wish, we learn to know ;
what they ought to wish, we reflect on; and thus something
of importance can always be effected and created. With
this view,” she continued, “everything that you see here
has been planted, constructed and arranged ; and simply
for a quite close, easily-attainable purpose; all this has
come to pass from love to the great neighbouring moun-
tain range.

«The excellent man, endowed with both strength and

* (Cesare Beccaria of Bonesana, whose work ¢ Dei Delitti e Delle
Pene, first published anonymously in 1764, gave an impulse to the
study of penal laws.—D.

+ Gaetana Filangieri, the renowned author of ¢La Scienza della
Legislazione’ (8 vols. 1781-88), whose acquaintance Goethe Lad made
in Naples.—D.

3
i
H
3
2
4
]
|
|
Cmae. VI] ~~ WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 63
|
the means, said to himself: No child up yonder shall want
“a cherry or an apple, for which with good reason they are
so greedy ; the housewife shall not lack cabbage or turnips
or any other vegetable for her saucepan, so that to some
degree the unwholesome consumption of potatoes may be
counterbalanced. To this end and in this manner he tries
to achieve what his possessions give him an opportunity
of doing; and thus for many years carriers, men and
women, have been organized, who take the fruit for sale
into the deepest clefts of the mountain rocks.”

“I have enjoyed it myself like any child,” replied
Wilhelm ; “there, where I never hoped to meet with
anything of the sort, among pines and rocks, I was less
surprised at finding pure simplicity of mind than new
refreshing fruit! The gifts of the spirit are at home every-
where, but the gifts of nature are only sparely distributed
over the earth’s surface.”

« Moreover, our worthy man has brought many things
from distant places nearer to the mountain; in the build-
ings below here you will find salt laid up, and stores of
spices. For tobacco and brandy he lets others provide;
these are not necessaries, he says, but lusts, and conse-
quently they have providers enough already.”

Arrived at the appointed place, a roomy huntsman’s
house in the forest, the party found themselves assembled,
and a small table ready laid out.

¢ Let ussit down,” said Hersilia. ¢ Here, to be sure, stands
our uncle’s chair, but as usual he is sure not to come.
In a certain manner it gives me satisfaction, that our new
guest, as I hear, is not going to stay long with us; for he
might be wearied wher he became acquainted with our
company. The composition of it is what is everlastingly
repeated in novels and plays: a wonderful uncle, one
gentle and one lively niece, a sensible aunt, domestics
of the well-known sort; and if our cousin were now to
return, he would learn to recognize a fantastic traveller,
who perhaps would bring with him a still more eccentric
companion, and then the trite theatrical piece would be
composed, and transformed into reality.”

“The peculiarities of our uncle we must needs revere,”
replied Julietta; “they are not a burden to any one, but
64 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book

  

rather a convenience to everybody. He detests, as he always =
will, a fixed dinner-hour, but he rarely interferes with it, =
for indeed he maintains that one of the finest inventions
of modern times is dinner a la carte.” 1

Amidst much other conversation they also discussed the =
worthy man’s taste to affect inscriptions everywhere. a

«My sister,” said Hersilia, “knows how to interpret |
them all, and she vies with the keeper in making them out;
but I find they can all be reversed, and that then they are
just as true, and perhaps more so.” 1

«I do not deny,” replied Wilhelm, “that there are
mottoes among them which seem to neutralize themselves.
Thus, for instance, I saw written up very strikingly,
«Ownership and Common-property.’ Do not these two
ideas exclude one another?” ;

Hersilia interrupted him: “Such inscriptions, it seems,
our uncle has borrowed from the Orientals, who on all
their walls do honour to, rather than understand, the
maxims of the Koran.”

Julietta, not to be put off, replied to the preceding
question : “If you paraphrase the few words, their sense
will at once become clear.”

After some discussion, Julietta continued to explain how
it was meant: “ Every one should try to dignify, to keep,
and to increase the possession which has been granted to
him by fate or by nature; with all his faculties he should
grasp as far around him as he can reach, but should at
the same time always think how he shall let others have
a share in it; for people of means are only valued in so
far as others enjoy through them.”

When they now began to seek for instances, our friend
found himself in his proper element: they vied with each
other, they strained their wits, in the endeavour to prove
the truth of those laconic words.

“Why,” they maintained, “do people honour the prince
—Dbut because he can put in activity, can advance and
bestow favours on every one, and make them, as it were,
shareholders of his absolute power? Why does every-
body look up to the rich? Because he himself, the most
needy, on all sides wants participators in his abundance.
Why do all men envy the poet ? Because his nature makes
Cuar. VI.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 65

communication necessary—nay, is communication itself.
The musician is happier than the painter; he expends
welcome gifts in person, immediately, whilst the latter
only gives when the gift has been sundered from himself.”

Then they further asserted generally: Man ought to
retain firmly every sort of possession; he ought to make
himself a central point, from which the common good can
issue; he must be an egoist, in order not to become an
egoist ; must keep together, in order to be able to expend.
What does it mean—to give possession and goods to the
poor? It is more praiseworthy to behave as a steward
for them. This is the sense of the words “ Ownership
and Common-property :” the capital no one ought to
attack ; the interest will none the less belong in due
course to every one.

In this manner the ladies conversed about many things
with their new friend, and as their mutual confidence
increased more and more, they also spoke about a cousin,
who was shortly expected. * We believe that his strange
behaviour has been arranged with our uncle. For some
years he has let us hear nothing from him. He will send
charming presents, figuratively intimating his place of
residence, then all of a sudden he writes from somewhere
quite close by, but will not come before we have given
him some information about our own condition. This
behaviour is not natural; what lurks behind it we must
discover before his return. To-night we will give you a
packet of letters, from which the rest may be seen.”

Hersilia added: ¢ Yesterday I made you acquainted
with a foolish wandering woman; to-day you shall hear
about a crazy traveller.”

“ But confess,” added Julietta, ¢ that this communica-
tion is not without purpose.”

Hersilia was just asking, somewhat impatiently, what
had become of the dessert, when the announcement was
made that the uncle expected the company to enjoy dessert
with him in the large summer-house. On the way back they
observed a camp-kitchen staff very busily engaged in pach-
ing up, with much clatter, their brightly-burnished sauce-
pans, plates, and dishes. They found the old gentleman
in a spacious arbour, before a large, round, freshly-spread

F
66 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

table, upon which, as they took their seats, the finest fruits,
delicious pastry, and all the best sweets, were abundantly
served. On the uncle’s asking what had they met with
to amuse them, Hersilia replied quickly, “Our good guest
would probably have run astray over your laconic inscrip-
tions, if Julietta had not come to his assistance with a
running commentary.”

«“ You always bring in Julietta,” replied the uncle;
“she is a good girl, who can learn and understand some-
thing too.” :

«I should like to forget much of what I know ; and what
I do understand is not worth much either,” replied Hersilia,
in joke.

Ilereupon Wilhelm joined in, and said, thoughtfully,
“Pithy mottoes of every kind I know how to honour,
especially if they incite me to reflect on and bring into
accord what contravenes them.”

“Precisely so,” replied the uncle; “indeed, rational
man throughout his whole life has never yet had any
other occupation.”

They had, as appeared in the course of the conversation,
‘made the objection to the uncle, that his property did not
bring him in what it ought. He replied thereto, * The defi-
ciency of income I look on as an outlay, which gives me
pleasure, inasmuch as I thereby render life more easy to
others. I have not even the trouble of making this
disbursement myself, and thus everything is made fair
again.”

In the meantime the table had gradually filled all round,
so that at last there was scarcely a place left.

The two stewards had arrived, huntsmen, horse-breakers,
gardeners, foresters, and others whose occupation one could
not tell at once. Each had something of the most recent
occurrence to say and to report, which the old gentleman
heard good-naturedly, or perhaps even elicited by sym-
pathising inquiries ; but at last he rose, and saluting the
company, whom he would not have move, went away
with the two bailiffs. All had indeed enjoyed the fruit—
and the young people the pastry—although they may
have looked a little unconventional. One after another
rose, saluted those that stayed, and went away.

 
|

CHAr. VI.) WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 67

The ladies, who noticed that the guest observed what
passed with some wonder, expressed themselves as fol-
lows: “You see here again the effect of the peculiarities
of our excellent uncle ; he affirms, that no invention of the
age deserves more admiration, than that you should be able
to dine at inns at small separate tables “a la carte” ; as
soon as he became aware of this, he also tried to introduce
it into his family for himself and others. When he is in
his best humour, he likes to paint vividly the horrors
of a family table, where every member sits down occu-
pied with extraneous thoughts, listens unwillingly, speaks
absently, remains sullenly silent, and if ill-luck intro-
duces little children, calls forth, with a sudden recourse to
pedagogism, the most unreasonable bad humour.

“¢<One has to bear with so many ills,” he says, ‘but
from this I have found out how to emancipate my-
self” He seldom appears at our table, and occupies the
chair that stands empty for him only for a few moments.
He carries his camp-kitchen about with him, and generally
dines alone; others must take care of themselves. But if
once in a way he offers breakfast, dessert, or other refresh-
ment, then all his scattered dependants have to assemble
together, and partake of what is offered, as you have seen.
That gives him pleasure; but no one dares come who does
not bring an appetite with him. Every one who has
satisfied himself has to rise, and only thus he is certain
of always being surrounded by people who enjoy them-
selves. ‘If you want to give people a treat,” I heard him
say, ‘you must try to procure for them what they are
seldom or never in a condition to obtain.” ”

On the return journey an unexpected mishap caused
some excitement among the party. Hersilia said to
Felix, who was riding by her side, “Look there, what
flowers are those ? they cover the whole sunny side of the
hill ; I have never seen them before.” Felix at once urged
on his horse, galloped towards the place, and in returning
with a whole bunch of blonming flowers, which he waved
in the air at a distance, ail of a sudden disappeared
with the horse. He had fallen into a ditch. Immediately
two horsemen detached themselves from the party and
galloped towards the spot. y

F
68 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

Wilhelm wanted to get out of the carriage, but Julietta
forbade it. “He has already got help, and our law in
such cases is, that only one who is giving help may stir
from the spot.”

Hersilia stopped her horse. “Yes, indeed,” she said,
«doctors one wants but seldom, but surgeons every
moment.” :

Felix was already cantering up again, with a bandaged
head, clutching the blooming booty, and holding it aloft.
With complacency he reached the nosegay to his mistress.
Hersilia in return gave him a light, bright-coloured
neckerchief.

« The white bandage does not suit you,” she said ; «this
will look much prettier.” And thus they reached home,
reassured indeed, but in a sympathetic mood.

It had grown late: they separated in the friendly hope
of meeting again on the morrow, but the following cor-
respondence kept our friend awake and thoughtful for
some hours.

Lenardo to his Aunt.

“At last, dear aunt, you receive, after three years, my
first letter, according to our arrangement, which indeed
was strange enough. I wanted to see the world, and
abandon myself to it, and for this period I wished to
forget my home, from which I came and to which I hoped
to return again. I wanted to retain the whole impression,
- and that single details should not lead me, when at a dis-
tance, into misconception. In the meantime the necessary
tokens of existence have been interchanged between us
from time to time. I have received money, and little gifts
for my nearest friends have meanwhile been handed over
to you for distribution. From the sort of things sent,
you could see where and how I was. In the wines my
uncle has surely tasted out my place of residence every
time; then the lace, the quodlibets, the steel-ware, have
marked my way for the ladies through Brabant to Paris
and on to London ; thus, on your writing, sewing, and tea-
tables, your morning robes and evening dresses, I shall
find many a mark on which I can hang my tales of travel.

§

 
Cuar. VI.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS, 69

You have accompanied me, without hearing from me, and
* perhaps are by no means curious to know anything further.
To me, on the contrary, it is in the highest degree neces-
sary to learn, through your goodness, how the circle which
I am on the point of re-entering, goes on. I should like to
enter actually from foreign parts like a stranger who, to
be agreeable, first informs himself about what they wish
or like in the house, and does not imagine to himself that
they must receive him exactly according to his own liking,
just for the sake of his fine hair or eyes. Write to me,
therefore, about the good uncle, the dear nieces, about
yourself, about our relations near and remote, and also
about old and new servants.

« Enough ; let your practised pen, which you have not
for so long inked for your nephew, hold sway on the
paper for his benefit. Your instructive letter shall be
my credentials, with which I shall present myself as
soon as I have received it. Thus it depends upon you to
see me in your arms. One changes far less than one thinks,
and circumstances remain for the most part much the same.
Not what has changed, but what has remained, what has
gradually increased and decreased, I wish to recognize all
at once, and to look again upon myself as in a familiar
mirror. Greet all our friends heartily, and believe that
in the strange fashion of my absence and return, more
warmth is contained than is often found in uninterrupted
sympathy and cordial correspondence. A thousand greet-
ings to each and all.

«Postscript.

“Do not neglect, dearest aunt, to say a word about our
men of business, how our agents and tenants are getting
on. What has become of Valerina, the daughter of the
tenant whom uncle shortly before my departure had
ejected —rightly indeed, but still, as it seems to me,
rather severely? You see that I still remember much; I
still know pretty well all. You must examine me about
the past, after you have communicated the present to
me.”
70 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

The Aunt to Julielia.

« At last, dear children, there is a letter from the Three-
years-mute. How these wonderful people are wonderful
indeed! He thinks that all his articles and tokens are as
good as one single good word that one friend can say or
write to another. He really imagines that the balance is
in his favour, and wants us on our part to do what on his
own he so harshly and unkindly denied us. What ought
we to do? I, for my part, would at once meet his wishes
with a long letter, if my headache did not announce itself,
and scarcely allow me to finish the present letter. We all
wish to see him. Take the matter, my dear ones, in hand.
If I have recovered before you have finished, then I shall
contribute my own quota. Choose the persons and circum-
stances as you like best; describe them. Divide them
between you. You will doit all better than I. I suppose

the messenger will bring me back a line from you?”

Julietta to her Aunt.

“ We have already read, reflected, and tell you through
the messenger our opinion, each for herself, though we
have first satisfied ourselves together, that we are not so
good-naturedly disposed as our dear aunt towards her
always spoilt nephew. He having for three years kept his
cards hidden from us, and still keeping them hidden, we
are to throw up ours, and play an open game against
his concealed one. That is by no means fair, but still it
may pass; for even the most subtle often deceives himself
just because he makes too sure. Only as to the style and
manner we are not agreed; as to what shall be sent to
him, and how. To write about what you think of your
own people, that is, to us at least, a strange task. As a
rule one only thinks about them in this or that case, when
they cause one exceptional pleasure or vexation. Other-
wise everyone leaves others alone. You only could do it,
dear aunt, for you have penetration and impartiality at
the same time. Hersilia, who, as you know, is easily
excited, has hurriedly given me a funny review of the

 

 
Crap. VI] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 71

whole family upon the spur of the moment; I wish it
stood on paper, so as to win a smile from you amidst
your suffering; but not that it should be sent to him.
My proposal, however, is to send him our correspondence
of these last three years; this he may peruse himself, if
he has the courage, or may come to see what he does not
care to read. Your letters to me, dear aunt, are in the
best order, and are at your disposal at once.
~~ « Hersilia is not of the same opinion ; she excuses herself
with the confusion of her papers, etc., as she will tell you
herself.”

Hersilia to her Aunt.

«I must and will be very short, dear aunt, for the
messenger shows himself disagreeably impatient. I con-
sider it superfluous kindness and quite out of place to
communicate our letters to Lenardo. What business
has he to know what good we have said of him, what
business has he to know what evil we have said of him,
in order to find out from the latter still more than from
the former, that we are well-disposed to him. Keep a tight
hand on him, I beg you. There is something so cool and
presumptuous in this demand, in this behaviour, such as
these gentlemen generally show when they come from
foreign lands. They always consider those who stay at
home as not complete. Excuse yourself with your head-
ache. He will come fast enough ; and if he does not come
we will wait a little longer. Perhaps in that case it will
occur to him to introduce himself amongst us in some
queer secret fashion, and learn to know us unrecognized,
and I don’t know what all might not enter into the plans
of such a clever man. That would be pretty and wonder-
ful indeed! It might produce all kinds of complications,
which could not possibly develope themselves under the
diplomatic entry into the family which he now has in
mind.

“The messenger! the messenger! Instruct your old
people better, or send young ones. This one is not to
be bribed either by flattery or wine. A thousand times
farewell |
72 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

« Postscript for postscript.

« Tell me, what does our cousin mean in his postscript
about Valerina? This question has doubly occurred to
me. She is the only person whom he mentions by name.
‘We others are to him nieces, aunts, agents ; no person-
alities, but only denominations. Valerina, the daughter
of our lawyer! A fair, pretty child enough, who may
have dazzled the eyes of our Herr Cousin before his
departure. She is married, well and happily ; that I need
not tell you. But he knows as little about it as he knows
in other respects about us. By no means forget to tell
him, also in a postscript, that Valerina has become prettier
every day, and on this very account too has made a very
good match: that she is the wife of a.rich landowner.
The beautiful blonde is married : make that quite clear
to him. But now, dear aunt, this is not yet all. How
he can remember the fair beauty so well, and yet confound
her with the daughter of the dissolute tenant, a wild romp
of a brunette, called Nachodina, who is gone no one knows
where—this is altogether incomprehensible to me, and
puzzles me wonderfully, for it seems that Sir Cousin,
who boasts of his good memory, mixes up names and
persons in an extraordinary way. Perhaps he feels this
defect, and wants to refresh again what has been forgotten
by your description. Keep a tight hand on him, I beg
you; but try to find out how Valerina and Nachodina
are, and what Inas and Trinas and all are still preserved
in his imagination, whilst the Ettas and Ilias have
disappeared from it. The messenger! the confounded
messenger ! ”

The Aunt to her Nieces. (Dictated.)

“What is the good of much dissembling towards those
with whom one has to spend one’s life! Lenardo with
all his peculiarities deserves confidence. I am sending
him both your letters; from them he will learn to know
you, and I trust the rest of us will unconsciously seize an
opportunity as soon as possible of presenting ourselves be-
fore him in the same way. Farewell! Iam in great pain.”
Cusp. VI.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 73

Hersilia to her Aunt.

“ What is the good of dissembling towards those with
whom we spend our lives! Lenardo is a spoiled nephew.
It is abominable, that you should send him our letters.
He will not learn to know us from them, and I only
wish for an opportunity of presenting myself as soon as
possible in another way. You make others suffer a great
deal, whilst you suffer and are blind. A speedy recovery
from your pain! There is no remedy for your love.”

The Aunt to Hersilia.

“I should also have enclosed your last little note for
Lenardo, if I had actually kept to the purpose which my
incorrigible partiality, my illness, and considerations of
convenience had suggested. Your letters are not gone.”

Wilhelm to Natalia.

« Man is a sociable, communicative creature ; his enjoy-
ment is great when he exercises the faculties that have
been given to him, even if nothing further were the out-
come of it. How often is the complaint made in society,
that one does not allow the other to have his say ; and one
can just as well say that one did not allow another to
write, if writing were not usually a sort of business that
one must discharge in solitude and alone. Of how much
people write we have no idea at all. I do not wish to
speak about so much of it as is printed, although it is
quite enough. But of the amount in letters, news, stories,
anecdotes, descriptions of the present condition of in-
dividual people, quietly circulating in letters and longer
compositions—of this one may gain an idea by living for a
time, as I do now, in a family of culture. In the sphere
in which I find myself at present, one almost spends as
much time in imparting information to relations and
friends about what one is occupied with as one has for
74 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

occupation itself. This observation, which has forced |

itself on my notice during the last few days, I make all
the more gladly, since my new friends’ facility in writing

gives me the opportunity of learning to know their

mutual relations quickly and from all sides. They con-
fide in me, give me a packet of letters, a few travelling
journals, the confessions of a mind not yet at one with
itself, and thus in a short time I am everywhere in the
house. I know the neighbouring society ; I know the per-
sons whose acquaintance I am going to make, and know
almost more about them than they do themselves, since
they are entangled in their own circumstances, whilst I
flit past them, always at your hand, discussing everything
with you. It is my first condition, too, before I accept a
confidence, that I shall be allowed to impart everything
to you. Here accordingly are a few letters, which will
introduce you to the circle within which I am at present
moving, without breaking or evading my vows.”
CB

 

CHAPTER VII

VERY early in the morning our friend found himself alone

in the gallery, and was enjoying himself over many a
well-known form; to those unknown, a catalogue, which
he found at hand, gave him the desired clue. Portraiture,
like biography, has quite a peculiar interest; the dis-
‘tinguished man, whom one cannot think of without a
surrounding, steps forward isolated, and places himself
before us as before a mirror; we accordingly turn on him
our special attention, we occupy ourselves with him
exclusively, as he is complacently occupied with himself
in the mirror. It is a general, who now represents the
whole army, behind whom emperors as well as kings for
whom he fights, step back into the shade. The clever
courtier stands before us, even as if he were paying court
to us; we do not think of the great world, for the sake
of which he in fact has made himself so fascinating.
Surprising, too, to our observer was the likeness of many
a one long gone, to living people known to him, whom he
had seen in the flesh—mnay, even the likeness to himself.
And why should Menachmi-twins result only from one
mother ? Ought not the great mother of the gods and
men also be able to bring forth the like form, at the
same time or at intervals, from her fruitful lap? Finally,
too, the sympathetic observer could not deny that many
an attractive and many a repulsive form flitted across
his vision.

In the midst of this contemplation he was surprised by
the master of the house, with whom he conversed freely
on these subjects, and whose favour he seemed to gain
still more. For he was kindly taken into the inner room
before the most precious portraits of remarkable men of
the sixteenth century in complete presence just as they
76 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

  
 
 

loved and lived, without any displaying of themselves in
the mirror or to the spectator, self-reliant and self-con-
tented, working by their own character, and not through
any sort of willing or purposing. 3

The master of the house, satisfied that his guest should a
know how to value completely a past so richly brought
before him, showed him the autographs of many persons,
about whom they had been speaking before in the gallery; =
and at last some relics, which there was no doubt that the =
former possessors had used and touched. i

« This is my kind of poetry,” said the master of the =
house, laughing; “my imagination must take hold of =
something! I can scarcely believe that anything has =
ever been, that is not still here. About such sacred
relics of the past I try to procure the most rigid proofs, =
otherwise they are not admitted. Written traditions are
most closely examined; for I believe, indeed, that the
monk has written the chronicle, but what he bears witness
to, that I seldom believe.”

At last he put a clean sheet of paper before Wilhelm
with a request for a few lines but without signature;
after which our guest found himself ushered through a
side-door into the hall, and by his side the custodian.

«I am glad,” said the latter, “ that you are valued by
our master; the very fact that you have come out at
this door is a proof of it. But do you know what he
takes you for? He thinks that in you he sees a pro-
fessional pedagogue; he supposes that the boy belongs
to a family of rank, and has been entrusted to your
guidance, in order to be initiated in the world and all its
manifold conditions and principles, with right ideas in
good time.”

« He does me too much honour,” said our friend ; « still
I shall not have heard this in vain.”

At breakfast, at which he found his Felix already busy
amongst the ladies, they expressed to him the wish that,
since he could on no account be detained, he would go to
their noble Aunt Makaria, and perhaps thence to the
cousin, to clear up the strange delay. He would thus
become as it were a member of their family; he would
confer upon them a distinct service, and without any

 
|
|
|
great preparation would enter into confidential relations
‘with Lenardo.

To this he replied, however: ¢ Whithersoever you send
‘me, I willingly betake myself. I set out for the purpose
of seeing and thinking ; with you I have experienced and
learned more than I dared to hope, and I am convinced
that on the next path to which I am introduced I shall
find out and learn more than I can expect.”

“And you, pretty good-for-nothing? what are you
going to learn?” asked Hersilia.

To which the boy answered very boldly : “I am learn-
ing to write, in order to be able to send you a letter; and
to ride better than anyone, so that I may always be with
you again immediately.”

 Hereupon Hersilia said thoughtfully: “I have never
‘been able to get on perfectly well with admirers of my
own years; it seems as if the following generation is
‘going to indemnify me very quickly.”

Cuar. VIL] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 77

| But now we feel with our friends how close at hand is
‘the painful hour of leave-taking, and we should like to
‘give a clear idea of the peculiarities of his excellent host,
‘of the singularities of that extraordinary man. But in
order not to judge him falsely, we must first direct our
attention to the descent and early development of this
worthy person, already far advanced in years. What we
were able to find out is as follows:

His grandfather lived as an active member of an
embassy in England, just in the last years of William
Penn.* The great benevolence, the pure aims, the un-
flagging activity of such a distinguished man, the conflict
into which for this reason he fell with the world, the
dangers and afflictions to which this noble man seemed
to be subjected, aroused in the susceptible soul of the
young man a decisive interest ; he associated himself with
the enterprise, and finally went himself to America. The

* William Penn, to whom, in 1681, Charles II. granted estates in
North America, which he settled as a colony of Quakers, and from
which arose the State of Pennsylvania, died in England in 1718.—Ep.
78 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

 
  
 
    

father of our squire was born in Philadelphia, and they =
both had the fame of having contributed to the result =
that a general increase of religious freedom prevailed
in the colonies. i
Here was deduced the maxim, that any nation isolated
in itself and in harmony as regards morals and religion, :
ought carefully to guard itself against all foreign influ-
ence and all innovation; but that where on a new soil we
wish to gather together many members from all sides,
there should be granted the most unfettered activity in
all pursuits, and a free scope to the universal moral and
religious ideas. ;
The brisk, lively impetus towards America in the
beginning of the eighteenth century was considerable,
inasmuch as everyone on this side who felt himself in
any degree uncomfortable, hoped over there to emancipate
himself. This impetus was encouraged by the desirable
possessions which could be obtained, before population
had as yet spread farther westward. Whole so-called
counties were still for sale on the border of the inhabited
territory ; and the father of our proprietor had acquired
considerable possessions there.
Yet here also was shown how often in sons a contradic-
tion to the paternal disposition manifests itself. Our squire
arriving as a youth in Europe, felt himself another
man. This inestimable culture, that had been called
into being several thousands of years ago; which had
grown, expanded, been curbed, oppressed, never entirely
suppressed ; breathing afresh, reviving, and afterwards as
before displaying itself in infinite forms of activity—gave
him quite different notions respecting the goal which
humanity is able to reach. He preferred to take his share
of the great, immeasureable advantages ; and to lose him-
self as a fellow-worker amidst the great mass moving
in orderly activity, rather than- there beyond the seas,
belated by many centuries, playing the part of an Orpheus
or Lycurgus. He used tosay: “Everywhere man has need
of patience, must everywhere be on his guard, and I would
rather settle matters with my king, that he should grant
me such and such rights, rather accommodate myself with
my neighbours, that they may allow me certain restric-

 
;

 

 

Crap. VII.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 79

| tions, provided that I yield to them on some other point,

than be fighting with the Iroquois, in order to expel them,
or deceiving them by contracts, in order to drive them
out of their marshes, where one will be tortured to death
by mosquitoes.”

He took possession of the family estates ; he knew how
to deal with them in a liberal spirit, to manage them
economically, to annex prudently large and apparently
useless neighbouring tracts of land, and thus within the
civilized world,—which, in a certain sense only, may too
often be called a wilderness,—to acquire and cultivate a
moderate domain, which with the limitations of circum-
stances is still always sufficiently utopian.

Religious liberty is therefore indigenous within this dis-
trict; public worship is regarded as a free confession that
we have a common ownership in life and in death; but
very great care is at the same time taken that no one
should separate himself.

In the several plantations are seen moderately large
edifices ; each of these is the room which the owner of the
soil devotes to each community; here the eldest gather,
in order to consult together; here the many assemble
to listen to instruction and pious exhortation. But this
room is also destined for merry-making ; here the wedding
dances are celebrated, and the holiday concluded amidst
music.

Nature herself can lead us towards this. In ordinarily
fine weather under the same lime-tree we see the elders
in consultation, the community at its instruction, and the
youth whirling round in dance. Upon a serious back-
ground of life, the holy thus appears beautiful ; seriousness
and holiness moderate enjoyment, and only by modera-
tion do we preserve ourselves.

If the community is otherwise disposed, and sufficiently
well-to-do, it is at liberty to devote different buildings to
the different purposes.

But if all this has been calculated for the public and
common morality, still religion itself remains as before,
something inward, nay, something individual. For it
has only to do with the conscience. This must be aroused
or tranquillized : aroused, when blunt, inactive. and in a
80 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. (Book I

state of torpor; but soothed down, when it threatens to
embitter life by a remorseful restlessness. For itis closely
allied to the pain which threatens to become sorrow, when
through our own fault we have drawn down any ill upon
ourselves or others. 4

But as we are not always disposed to considerations
such as are required for this, nor even always care to be 4
stirred, therefore the Sunday has been set apart, in which =
all that oppresses man must, in a religious, moral, social
or economical aspect, come under discussion.

 

«If you would stay a little longer with wus,” said Juli-
etta, “ our Sunday would not displease you either. The
day after to-morrow, early, you would notice a great
stillness; every one remains alone and devotes himself
to a prescribed meditation. Man is a limited being: in
order that we may meditate on our narrowness the Sunday
is set apart. If there happen to be bodily suffering, which
during the whirl of the week we set at naught; then at
the beginning of the new week we must at once look out
for the doctor ; if our difficulty is economical or otherwise
connected with business, then our bailiffs are obliged to
hold their sittings; if it is something spiritual, moral,
that overclouds us, then we have recourse to a friend, to
a right-minded person, and ask for his advice, his influ-
ence ; enough, it is the law, that no one dare to transfer
to the next week any concern that may disturb or afflict
him. From oppressive duties, only the most conscientious
practice is able to deliver us, and what cannot be relieved
at all we leave finally to God, as the all-controlling, all-re-
deeming Being. Even our uncle himself does not omit this
probation ; there are even cases in which he will speak con-
fidently to us about a difficulty, that he has not been able
to overcome at the moment ; but generally he consults with
our noble aunt, to whom he from time to time pays a
visit. On Sunday evening he is also in the habit of
asking whether a clean confession and settlement of all
has been made. From this you may see that we take
every care not to be admitted into your order, the com-
munity of the Renunciants.”
Cusp. VII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 81

“Jt is a tolerable life,” cried Hersilia; “if I resign
myself once every seven days, at least I have it to my
credit for three hundred and sixty-five!”

Before his departure our friend received from the
younger bailiff a packet with writing enclosed —from
which we extract the following passage :

«Jt seems to me, that in every nation there prevails a
different frame of mind, which only can make it happy,
and one observes this in different individuals. He who
desires to have his ear filled with grand and harmoniously
regulated tones, and thereby elevate spirit and soul,—
will he thank me if I place before his eyes the most
beautiful picture? A lover of pictures will look; but he
will decline to have his imagination aroused by a poem
or a novel. Who then is so endowed, that he can enjoy
in many different ways?

“But you, our passing friend, have appeared to. me
like such an one, and if you have known how to appreciate
the prettiness of a fashionable rich French aberration,
then I trust you will not scorn the simple, true honesty
of German ways; and pardon me if, according to my
custom and manner of thinking, according to my birth
and position, I find no more charming image than is
shown us by the German middle class in its pure domestic
life.

« Take this kindly : and remember me.”
82 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

CHAPTER VIIL

WHO IS THE TRAITOR?

“No, no!” he exclaimed, as he burst violently and
hurriedly into the bedroom assigned to him, and put down
the light; “no, it is not possible! But whither shall I
turn myself! For the first time I think differently—for
the first time I feel and wish otherwise. Oh, my father!
if you could be present invisibly, and look me through
and through, you would convince yourself that I am still
the same, ever the faithful, obedient and loving son. To
say no—to oppose the dearest and long-cherished wish of
my father! How shall I reveal it >—how shall I express
it? No, I cannot marry Julia. Whilst uttering it, I
am frightened. And how shall I present myself to him
—reveal it to him, my kind, dear father? He looks at
me astounded and silent; he shakes his head; the clear-
headed, wise and learned man cannot find a single word.
Woe is me! Oh, I know well to whom I should confide
this pain, this embarrassment, whom I should choose as
my intercessor : of all people, you, Lucinda! And to you
I should like to tell first, how I love you, how I abandon
myself to you, and implore you piteously, Be my repre-
sentative ; and if you can love me, if you will be mine, then
represent both of us.” :

To explain this short, heartfelt, passionate soliloquy, a
great many words will be required.

Professor N y OF N , had an only son of wonderful
beauty, whom, until his eighth year, he left under the
care of his wife, a very worthy lady. She guided the
. hours and days of the child to life, to learning, and all
"good conduct. She died, and at the moment the father
telt that he would be unable, personally, to further con-

 

 

 
Cuar. VIIL] WHO IS THE TRAITOR? 83

tinue this tutorship. Hitherto all had been harmony be-
tween the parents; they worked with one object, together
determined what was to be done in the time immediately
at hand, and the mother knew how to carry out every-
thing wisely. Double and threefold was now the anxiety
of the widower, who saw daily before his eyes that for
sons of professors at the universities themselves, only
by a mere chance could a successful education be hoped
for. In this perplexity he turned to his friend the high-
bailiff * at R , with whom he had already discussed
earlier plans of a closer family connexion. He was able
to advise and to help, so that the son was received in one
of the good educational institutes which then flourished
in Germany, and in which all possible care was taken of
the whole man—body, soul, and spirit.

The son had now been provided for, yet his father felt
himself far too much alone: deprived of his wife, and
strange to the lovely presence of the boy, whom, without
any trouble on his own part, he had seen brought up so
satisfactorily. At this point also the friendship of the
high-bailiff stood him in good stead ; the distance between
their residences disappeared before the inclination to bestir
themselves and to seek distraction. Here the widowed
scholar found in a family circle, also deprived of a mother,
two beautiful, and in different ways lovable, daughters,
just grown up. And so the two fathers more and more
strengthened themselves in the belief, in the prospect, of
seeing at some future day their houses connected in the
pleasantest manner.

They lived in the prosperous dominions of a sovereign
prince; the able man was certain of his position for the
length of his life, and so probably was a successor of his
own nomination.

In accordance with a prudent family and official arrange-

ment, Lucidor was now to prepare himself for the im-
|

 

portant place of his future father-in-law. In this he
succeeded step by step. Nothing was neglected to impart
to him every kind of knowledge, to develope in him all
those capabilities of which the state at all times stood in

* Oberamtmann : a superior goverrment offizial charged with the
administration of justice.—ED,

| ¢ 2
 

84 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book L

need : the study of the strict judicial law ; of the more
discretionary one, where wisdom and ability lend their
assistance to the functionary; calculation for daily wants—
without excluding higher views, but everything pertaining
immediately to life as it would surely and unfailingly be
required for use. :

To this intent Lucidor had completed his school years,
and was now prepared by his father and well-wisher for
the university. He displayed the finest talent for every-
thing, and owed to nature also the rare good fortune
of being willing, from love to his father, and respect for
his friend, to guide his faculties just in that direction
which was indicated to him, first from obedience and then
from conviction. He was sent to a foreign university, and
there, according both to his ‘own epistolary accounts and
to the testimonials of his teachers and tutors, he pursued
the path which ought to lead him to his goal. They
could only disapprove of his having in a few instances
heen too impetuously courageous. At this the father
shook his head, and the high-bailiff nodded. Who would
not have wished for himself such a son!

Meantime the daughters, Julia and Lucinda, grew up
—the former, who was the younger, capricious, amiable,
restless, and very amusing; the latter, difficult to de-
scribe, because in rectitude and purity she represented
just that which we consider as most desirable in all
women. They interchanged visits, and Julia found the
most inexhaustible entertainment in the professor's house.

His speciality was geography, which he knew how to
enliven by topographical descriptions; and as soon as Julia
had noticed but a single volume, a whole series of similar
ones from the Homann publications were ready at hand.
Then the towns in a body were passed in review, judged,
preferred or rejected : all seaports particularly gained her
favour; other towns, that would obtain her approval only
in a moderate degree, had carefully to make themselves con-
spicuous by a multitude of towers, cupolas, and minarets.

The father left her for weeks with his trusted friend :
she really improved in knowledge and understanding, and
knew tolerably well the inhabited world in its general
features, points, and places. She was also very observant

 
+ CHar. VIII] WHO IS THE TRAITOR? 85

of the costumes of foreign nations, and when her adoptive
father sometimes jestingly asked her whether some one
or other of the many handsome young people who were
walking up and down before the window did not really
please her, she would say: Yes, certainly, if he looks
quite out of the common!” Now as our young students
are never wanting in this respect, she often had occa-
sion to take an interest in this or that one; she would
recall to mind in reference to him some foreign national
costume, but yet would declare at last, that a Greek at
least must come by, completely rigged out in his national
dress, if she was to devote to him any special attention ;
on this account she would long to be at the Leipzig fair,
where such fellows were to be seen in the streets.

After his dry and often disagreeable work our teacher
knew no happier moments than those in which he play-
fully instructed her, and at the same time secretly con-
gratulated himself on his task of educating such a
charming and always easily amused daughter-in-law.
The two fathers moreover had agreed that the girls should
not suspect anything about their intentions; and they
were concealed even from Lucidor.

Thus years passed by, as indeed years will easily pass.
Lucidor presented himself, accomplished, and approved in
every test to the satisfaction even of the higher powers,
who wished for nothing better than to be able to fulfil,
with a clear conscience, the hopes of old, worthy, favoured
and meritorious servants.

And thus the affair had, by regular steps, at last
reached the point, that Lucidor, after behaving exemplarily
in subordinate capacities, was about to obtain, according
to his merit and desire, a profitable post, situated exactly
midway between the university and the high-bailiff’s.
The father, therefore, now spoke to his son about Julia,
to whom he had hitherto only alluded, as his future bride
and wife, without further doubt or stipulation, extolling
his fortune in having won such a living jewel. In spirit
he already saw his daughter-in-law from time to time
again with him, busying herself with maps, plans and
views of cities. The son, on the other hand, recalled
to mind the lovable and merry creature, who in child-
  

86 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I 1

hood’s time had always delighted him with her freaks as =
well as her friendliness. Lucidor was now to ride over to
the high-bailiff’s to see more nearly the developed beauty,
to devote himself for a few weeks to intercourse and

acquaintanceship with the whole family. If the young
people, as was to be hoped, were soon at one, then it should
be announced ; the father would at once appear, in order
that a solemn betrothal might assure for ever the hoped-
for happiness.

Lucidor arrives, he is received in the most friendly
fashion, he is shown to a room, arranges his dress,
and appears. He finds there, besides the family circle
already known to us, a half-grown-up som, spoilt without
doubt, but clever and good-natured, so that if one had
liked to take him for the family-jester, he would not
have accorded with the whole at all badly. Then there
belonged to the household a very old, but hale and
cheerful man, quiet, refined, wise, near the end of life,
but now and then of use. Immediately after Lucidor
there came another stranger, no longer young, of dis-
tinguished aspect, estimable and experienced in life, and
through his familiar knowledge of the world highly enter-
taining. They called him Antony.

Julia received her bridegroom-designate with modesty,
but complaisantly. Lucinda, on the contrary, did the
honours of the house, as her sister those of her own person.
Thus the day passed with especial pleasure for all, except
only Lucidor; otherwise taciturn, he was forced from
time to time, in order not to remain entirely dumb, to
assume a questioning attitude, in which circumstances
no one appears to advantage.

He was thoroughly distracted, for from the first moment
he had felt towards Julia neither disinclination nor aver-
sion, but estrangement ; Lucinda, on the contrary, attracted
him, so that he trembled when she looked at him with her
full, pure, quiet eyes. In this state of affliction, on the
first evening he reached his bedchamber, and unburdened .
himself in the soliloquy with which we began. But to
clear this up too, and to reconcile the passion of such
a tirade with what we already know about him, a short
statement will be necessary.

 
Cuar. VIIL] WHO IS THE TRAITOR? 87

Lucidor was a man of deep mind, and generally had in
his thoughts something besides what the present demanded,
on which account he was never quite happy in entertain-
ment and conversation; he felt this, and was taciturn,
except when the conversation turned upon special subjects
which he had mastered, and in which what he wanted
was at all times ready at his service. In addition to this,
it happened that in earlier days at school, and later at the
university, he had been disappointed in certain friends, and
had unhappily expended in vain the outpourings of his
heart. All sociability had become a suspicious matter to
him; but any suspicion does away with all sociability.
To his father he was accustomed to speak only in one
tone, and therefore, as soon as he was alone, his heart
would vent itself in monologues.

The next morning he had somewhat collected himself,
and yet he was on the point of losing his presence of
mind when Julia came towards him, more friendly, more
cheerful, and more unconstrained than ever. She had plenty
to ask him about his journeys by land and water, how as
a student with his baggage at his back he had tramped
and climbed through Switzerland, nay, had even crossed
the Alps. Thereupon she wanted to know a great deal
about the beautiful island in the large southern lake;
then, on, the return, the Rhine had to be traced from
its remotest source, at first through the most joyless
regions, and so downwards through many varying scenes,
until at last between Mainz and Coblenz it is still
quite worth while to dismiss the river honourably from
its last limitations inte the wide world—into the ocean.
Lucidor felt very much relieved by this, and continued
to tell his tales with pleasure, and so well that Julia
exclaimed with rapture: “One ought to see such things
in company with some one else,” at which Lucidor was
again frightened, for in this remark he thought that he
espied an allusion to their companionship through life.

However, he was soon relieved from his duty as a teller
of tales, for the foreigner whom they called Antony speedily
eclipsed all his mountain rills, rocky banks, rivers con-
fined and flowing free. For now they went direct to
Genoa ; Leghorn lay at no great distance ; and a raid was
88 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I. i

made upon all that was most interesting in the country; =
Naples must be seen before one died ; but Constantinople
was still left—this too was not to be neglected. The
description that Antony gave of the wide world carried

along with it the imagination of all, although he had
less ardour to infuse into it. Julia, quite beside herself,

was still by no means satisfied ; she felt a longing for

Alexandria, Cairo, but particularly for the Pyramids, about

which she had gained a tolerably complete knowledge

through the instruction of her presumptive father-in-law.

Lucidor, the following evening (he had scarcely shut
the door, and not yet put down the light) exclaimed :
“Now, look to yourself! it is a serious matter. You
have learnt and thought out many serious matters; what
is the good of jurisprudence if now you do not forth-
with act like a jurist? Regard yourself as a plenipoten-
tiary ; forget yourself, and do what you would be bound to
do for others. Matters are coming to a crisis in the most
appalling manner. The foreigner is evidently there for
Tucinda’s sake ; she shows him all the attentions of the
home circle in the prettiest, most well-bred manner. The
silly little one would like to roam with any one through
the world, for nothing, nothing at all. Besides, she is a
rogue too; her delight in towns and countries is a trick,
by which she silences us. But why do I look at this
matter in such a confused and limited manner. Is not
the high-bailiff himself the most prudent, sensible and
amiable of mediators? You will tell him what you feel
and think, and he will appreciate, if not even sympathize.
He can do anything with your father. And is not one his
daughter as well as the other? And what, then, has this
¢ Antony Roamer’ * to do with Lucinda, who is born for
home, to be happy and to create happiness? Yoke the
restless Quicksilver to the Wandering Jew : that would be
a charming match!”

In the morning Lucidor went down with the firm
resolve of speaking to the father, and for this purpose
to approach him without delay at a time when he
knew that he would be at leisure. How great was
his grief, his embarrassment, when he heard that the

* Under this title (Anton Reiser) C. Ph. Moritz published an
autobiography of his early years.—D.

 
|

t

| Crap. VIIL] WHO IS THE TRAITOR ? 89

me,

C

high-bailiff had set out on business, and was only ex-
pected back the day after to-morrow. Julia seemed to-
day to be having a regular travelling time: she stuck
to the globe-walker, and with a few joking speeches,
that related to domestic matters, left Lucidor with
| Lucinda. If our friend had before seen the noble girl
|

a

 

from a certain distance, and after a general impression,
and already most heartily appropriated her to himself,
now, in the nearest proximity, he discovered doubly and
 trebly what had first attracted him in a general way.
~The good old friend of the family now came forward
| in place of the absent father; he too had lived and loved,
and after many buffets of life he was at last cheered
and well cared-for at the side of the friend of his youth.
He animated the conversation, and expatiated especially
about mistakes in the choice of a husband, and related
remarkable instances of rectifications made sooner or later.
Lucinda appeared in her full glory : she admitted that in
life, and in marriages as well as other things, chance of all
kinds might bring about the very best result; yet that it
was more beautiful, more elevating to the heart, when a
man could say to himself, that his fortune was due to
himself—to the quiet, unwavering conviction of his heart,
to noble resolve and prompt decision. Tears stood in
the eyes of Lucidor, as he gave his approval, after which
the ladies soon withdrew. The old gentleman, who
presided, was quite ready to indulge further in an ex-
change of stories, and thus the conversation was extended
to amusing examples, which, however, touched our hero so
closely, that only a youth so purely educated as he, could
refrain from an outbreak; this however happened, when
he was alone.

«1 have controlled myself,” he exclaimed ; « with such
embarrassment I will not annoy my good father. I have
restrained myself, for in this worthy family-friend I re-
cognize the representative of both fathers: to him I will
speak, to him disclose everything; he will be sure to
mediate in the matter, and has already almost expressed
what I wish. Could he in the particular case blame what
he in general approves ? Early to-morrow I will seek him
out; I must gain breath for this struggle.”
90 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I. /

At breakfast the old man was not present; it was :
stated that yesterday evening he had talked too much,
sat too long, and drunk a few drops of wine beyond his

custom. They said a great deal in his praise, and indeed
spoke of his words and actions in a way that drove
Lucidor to despair, at not having at once applied to him.
This disagreeable sensation was only made still keener
by hearing that after such attacks the good old man often
did not make his appearance again for a week.

Residence in a country-house has indeed great advan-
tages for social intercourse, particularly when the enter-
tainers, being people of thought and feeling, have found
an opportunity, after several years’ experience, of aiding
the natural conditions of their environment. It was
fortunately so in this case. The high-bailiff, at first un-
married, then during a long and happy union, with means
of his own, in a lucrative post, had—in accordance with his
own taste and insight, the fancies of his wife, nay, even
in compliance with the wishes and humours of his children
—attended to and beautified several separate larger and
smaller plots, which being by degrees connected tastefully
with plantations and roads, afforded to the passer-by a
most lovely, diverse and characteristic succession of scenes.
The young members of the family accordingly made their
guest undertake a pilgrimage of this kind ; even as people
like to show their surroundings to a stranger, in order
that he may regard as a novelty what has become stale to
themselves, and may retain the pleasant impression of
it for ever.

The nearer as well as the more distant portion of the
estate was strictly appropriated to modest plantations, or
peculiarly rural specialities. Fertile hills alternated with
well-watered meadow-land, so that the whole could be
seen from time to time without being level ; and although
land and soil were by preference devoted to utility, still
the graceful and alluring had not been excluded.

To the mansion and offices were annexed pleasure-
gardens, orchards, and grass lawns, out of which one
lost oneself unwittingly in a little copse, through which
wound up and down, in and out, a broad carriage-road.
In the middle of this, on the top of the most prominent

 
Crap. VIIL] WHO IS THE TRAITOR ? 91

eminence, a pavilion had been constructed, with a suite
of apartments. On entering at the principal door, one
saw in a large mirror the most lovely prospect that the
neighbourhood could offer, and quickly turned round to
recover oneself in the reality from the unexpected reflexion,
for the approach had been arranged artfully enough, and
all that was designed to effect a surprise had been care-
fully hidden. No one entered without again and again
turning with pleasure from the mirror to nature, and from
nature to the mirror.

When once upon the road, on one of the finest, most
genial, and longest days, they kept upon a good grass-
road round and through the whole. Here was pointed
out the evening resting-place of the good mother, where
a splendid beech-tree had reserved round about itself
an open space. Julia soon afterwards pointed out, half
teasingly, the place of Lucinda’s morning devotion, in the
vicinity of a tiny lake, among poplars and alders, near
meadows sloping downwards, and corn-fields extending
upwards. It was pretty beyond all description. One
fancied that one had seen it often before, but nowhere so
remarkable and so welcome in its simplicity. On the
other hand, the young brother, half against Julia's wish,
showed the diminutive arbours and childish garden erec-
tions which, close by a cosily-situated mill, were scarcely
noticeable. They dated from the time when Julia, in
about her tenth year, had taken it into her head to become
a miller’s wife, and after the departure of the two old
people, was going to set up for herself, and look out for
an honest miller youth.

“That was at a time,” exclaimed Julia, “ when T still
knew nothing about the towns that lie on rivers, or indeed
on the sea, nothing about Genoa, and so forth. Your good
father, Lucidor, has transformed me, and since that time
I have not been so ready to come here.”

She sat down playfully on a little bench that scarcely
sufficed to bear her weight, beneath an elder-tree that bent
too deeply down. “Oh, how cramped!” she cried jumped
to her feet; and ran in front with her merry brother.

The couple that remained behind conversed together
sensibly, and in such cases reason probably comes near to
  
 

92 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I. 1

feeling. To roam successively through simple natural

objects, and quietly to observe how the sensible, prudent

man is able to turn them to account; how the compre-
hension of what is at hand, associating itself with the
sense of his requirements, will do wonders, in first of all
making the world inhabitable, then in peopling it, and at
last in overpeopling it—all this could here be discussed in
detail. Lucinda gave an account of everything, and how-
soever modest she was, could not conceal that this con-
venient and pleasant connexion of distant portions of the
estate was her own work, under the suggestions, direction,
and assistance of a revered mother.

But yet, since even the longest day will at last verge
towards evening, it was now needful to think of returning,
and as they were thinking about some pleasant circuitous
road, the merry young brother expressed a wish that they
should enter upon the shorter road, although not the
pleasanter, but rather the more difficult one. For,” he
exclaimed, “you have been boasting with your sites and
contrivances, how you have beautified and improved the
country for artistic eyes and sensitive hearts, but now let
me too gain credit.”

Now they had to pass across ploughed lands and rugged
paths, nay, they had even to walk over stones roughly
thrown across small bogs, and at some distance they soon
beheld all kinds of machinery in confused piles. Seen
nearer, it was a large pleasure or playground, erected
not without judgment, in a certain popular style. Thus
there were standing here, arranged at the proper distances,
the great swing-wheel, on which those mounting and
descending always remain as if sitting quietly in a hori-
zontal position, and other swings, slack-ropes, balance-
boards, bowling-greens and skittle-alleys, and all that can
be imagined to occupy and amuse a number of people in
different ways and to an equal extent, in an extensive
pleasure-ground. “This,” he exclaimed, “is my con-
trivance, my laying out; and although father gave the
money for it, and a clever fellow the head to make it, still,
without me, whom you so often call silly, neither judgment
nor money would have combined together.”

In this merry mood they all four reached home at
Crap. VII] WHO IS THE TRAITOR ? 93
| :

‘sunset. Antony put in an appearance ; the younger lady,
‘however, who during all this day had not had enough
exercise, had the horses put-to, and drove across the
country to see a female friend, being desperate at not
having seen her for two days. The four left behind felt
embarrassed before they were aware of it, and it was
then declared that the absence of the father began to
alarm his family. The conversation began to flag, when
all at once the merry lad jumped up, and soon returned
with a book, offering to read aloud. Lucinda could not
refrain from asking “ how he had hit upon an idea which
he had not had the whole year,” to which he merrily
replied, “ Everything occurs to me at the right time—a
thing you cannot boast of.” He read a series of genuine
fairy tales, which carry people out of themselves, flatter
their wishes, and make them forget every condition by
which we nevertheless remain limited even in our happiest
moments.

“ What shall I do now?” exclaimed Lucidor, when at
last he found himself alone; “time presses; I have no
confidence in Antony; he is an utter stranger—I do not
know who he is, how he comes to be in the house, or what
he wants: he seems to interest himself in Lucinda, and
what in that case could I hope for from him? Nothing
remains for me but to approach Lucinda myself; she must
know it—she first. This indeed was my first feeling ; why
do we allow ourselves to be misled into paths of prudence?
The first must now be lagt, and I trust to attain my end.”

On Saturday morning Lucidor having dressed early,
was pacing to and fro in his room, and thinking over
what he must say to Lucinda, when he heard a sort of
good-humoured wrangling outside his door, which at the
same instant was opened. Thereupon the merry youth
pushed in before him a boy with coffee and biscuits for
the guest; he himself carried some cold meat and wine.
“You shall go first,” he said, “for the guest must be
served first; I am accustomed to wait upon myself. My
friend, to-day I come somewhat, early and noisily ; let us
enjoy our breakfast in peace, and then we will see what
we shall set about, for we have little to hope from the
company. The younger one has not yet returned from
94 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L |

her friend ; these two are obliged to pour out their hearts |
mutually at least once every fortnight, in case they =
explode. On Saturdays Lucinda is altogether useless, for
she then delivers punctually her housekeeping accounts to
father. I too ought todabble in those things, but, Heaven
preserve me! if I know what a thing costs, I cannot relish
a mouthful. They expect guests to-morrow; the old
gentleman has not yet recovered his equilibrium. Antony
is shooting ; we will do the same.”

Guns, game-bags, and dogs were ready, when they
descended into the courtyard, and so they set out across
the fields, where eventually a leveret and a poor indifferent
bird were shot. In the meantime they talked about domestic
affairs and those of the present party. Antony was men-
tioned, and Lucidor did not fail to inquire about him.
The merry youth declared, with some complacency, that
however mysteriously that wonderful man behaved, he
had already seen through and through him.

« He is,” he continued, “no doubt the son of a rich man
of business, who failed just at the moment when he, in
the flower of his youth, was thinking of taking a share
vigorously and cheerfully in great business transactions,
but at the same time of sharing in the great enjoyments
which they abundantly offer. Hurled down from the
pinnacle of his expectations, he pulled himself together,
and accomplished in the service of others what he could
no longer do for himself and his relations. So he wandered
through the world, learned to know it thoroughly in all
its multifarious intercourse, yet in so doing did not forget
his own interests. Untiring activity and approved honesty
brought and retained for him an unlimited confidence from
many. So he everywhere gained friends and acquaintance
—nay, it is easy to see that his resources are distributed
in the world as widely as his acquaintance extends, and
that therefore his presence also is necessary from time to
time in all four parts of the world.”

The merry youth had told this quite circumstantially
and simply, inserting as many comical observations a~ if
he had the intention of spinning out his little story to the
end of the world.

“ How long has he not already been connected with

 

 
{ my father! They think that I see nothing, because I
| trouble myself about nothing ; but for this very reason
I see better, because it does mot concern me! He has
| deposited a good deal of money with my father, who has
again invested it safely and profitably. Only yesterday
| he handed the old gentleman a jewel casket; anything
. simpler, more beautiful, or precious I have never seen—
| although only at a glance, for the matter was a secret
transaction. It is probably to be devoted to the pleasure
and joy and to the future safe keeping of the bride.
Antony has placed his confidence in Lucinda. But when
I see them thus together, I can scarcely regard them as a
well-assorted couple. The brisk one would do better for
him ; I think too that she likes him better than the elder
one ; she really looks sometimes as cheerfully and sympa-
thetically towards the old grumbler, as if she would like
to mount into the carriage with him, and be up and off.”
Lucidor collected himself; he did not know what could be
said in answer—all that he had heard had his private
approval.

The youth continued: “Generally speaking, the girl
has a perverse love for old people: I believe she would
as soon have married your father as his son.”

Lucidor followed his companion, as he led him over stock
and stone ; both forgot the sport, which any way could
not have been very abundant. They put up at a farm-
house, where, being well entertained, one of the friends
amused himself with eating, drinking, and chatting, but
the other was absorbed in thoughts and meditations
concerning the manner in which he might be able to
avail himself to his own advantage of the discovery he had
made. Lucidor after all these tales and confidences had
acquired so much confidence in Antony, that, on enter-
ing the courtyard, he at once asked for him, and hurried
into the garden, where he was told that he would find
him. He traversed all the alleys of the park in the
cheerful evening sun in vain. Not a soul was to be
seen. At last he entered a door leading to the great
saloon, and wonderfuily enough, the setting sun, reflected
from the mirror, dazzled him to such a degree, that he
could not recognize the two persons who were sitting on

Cuar. VIIL] WHO IS THE TRAITOR ? 95

 

 
96 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

the ottoman, though he could distinguish that a male
person sitting by the side of a lady was passionately
impressing a kiss on her hand. How great then was his
horror, when on the recovery of his power of vision he
beheld Lucinda and Antony before him. He would have
liked to sink into the ground, but remained as if fixed to
the spot, until Lucinda in an unembarrassed and most
friendly way bade him welcome, made room for him, and
invited him to come and sit on her right-hand side. He
took the seat unconsciously, and when, addressing him,
she asked how he had spent the day, and excused herself on
the score of domestic affairs, he could hardly endure her
voice. Antony arose, and took leave ; and Lucinda, also
rising, invited him, who remained, to go out for a walk.
Walking along by her side he remained silent and em-
barrassed ; she too seemed to be disturbed ; and if he had
only been in some degree himself, her deep breathing
must have betrayed that she had to conceal some heart-
felt sighs. At last she took leave of him, as they approached
near to the house; but he turned, first slowly and then
hurriedly, towards the open fields. The park had become
too narrow for him; he hurried through the open land
listening only to the voice of his heart, without any sense
of the beauties of the most perfect evening. When he
saw himself alone, and had vented his feelings in a sooth-
ing flood of tears, he exclaimed :

«Several times already in my life, but never so cruelly,
have I experienced the grief which is now making me
wretched, when the most longed-for happiness comes up
to us hand-in-hand, arm-in-arm, and immediately takes
leave of us for ever. I sat by her, walked next her, her
dress touched me as it moved, and even then I had lost
her! Tell it not to yourself, do not fret yourself about
it; be silent, and take your resolution.”

He had imposed silence on himself: he held his peace
and reflected, strolling through fields, meadows and heath,
not always on the smoothest paths. Only when he entered
his room, at a late hour, did he cease to restrain himself,
and exclaimed : « Early to-morrow Iset off; a day like this
I will not live again,” and so he threw himself on the bed
in his clothes.

 
Crap. VIIL] WHO IS THE TRAITOR ? 97

Happy, healthy youth! He was already asleep; the
fatiguing exercise during the day had earned for him
the sweetest night's rest. From his comforting morning
dreams, however, the earliest beam awoke him ; it hap-
‘pened to be the longest day, which threatened him to
be too long. If he had certainly not felt the charm of
‘the soothing evening star, he felt the stimulating beauty
of the morning one only to despair. He beheld the world
‘as beautiful as ever;—it was still so to his eyesight,
‘but his inner man denied it. In all this he had no
‘more part or lot: he had lost Lucinda.

|
|
 

as WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

CHAPTER IX.

THE portmantean, which he intended to leave behind him,
was quickly packed ; he did not write any letter with it;
his absence from dinner, perhaps also during the evening,
was to be excused by only a few words through the
groom, whom he must wake up at once. But he found
him already below in front of the stable, pacing to and
fro with long strides. * You surely do not want to take
a ride?” cried the otherwise good-natured man, with a
touch of vexation. I suppose I may venture to tell you:
"the young gentleman gets every day more unendurable.
He was knocking about the country all yesterday, so that
one might have thought that he would thank God to rest
on a Sunday morning. But, if he does not come here
before daybreak, making a disturbance in the stables!
As 1 am jumping up, he saddles and bridles your horse, and

is not to be kept back by any argument ; he vaults up and

cries: ‘Only think of the good work I am doing! This
creature always goes only at a lawyer's trot; | will see
whether I can spur him into a swift gallop for life!’

That is about what he said; and added other strange

speeches.”

Lucidor was doubly, trebly surprised: he loved his
horse, as answering to his own character and mode of

life ; it vexed him to find the good and sagacious creature
in the hands of a madcap. His plan was disturbed—his

intention of seeking refuge in the present crisis with a

university friend, with whom he had lived in frank
and affectionate association. The old confidence had
been reawakened ; the miles lying between them had
not been taken into account, and he already imagined
himself finding advice and relief from his benevolent
and sensible friend. This prospect was now cut off: and

|
|
Cuar. IX.) WHO IS THE TRAITOR ? 99

yet this was not the case, if he should venture to reach
his goal on fresh walking feet, which remained at his
disposal.

The first thing then was to try to find the road out
of the park into the open country, that should take him
to his friend. He was not quite sure of his direction,
when, on the left hand, the hermitage of which they
had previously made a mystery caught his eye, as it
reared its head above the copse, raised upon a strange
sort of wood-work, and there to his utmost surprise he
‘beheld upon a gallery beneath the Chinese roof the old
gentleman,— who for the last few days had been thought
to be ill,—looking around in a cheerful manner. Lucidor
declined his very friendly greeting, and pressing invitation
to ascend, with excuses and hurried gestures. Only con-
sideration for the good old man, who as he hurried down
the steep staircase with infirm tread threatened to fall
to the bottom, induced him to walk towards him, and to
allow himself to be led up. With wonder he entered
the charming little saloon; it had only three windows,
looking over the country, a most beautiful prospect ;
the rest of the walls was adorned, or rather covered,
with hundreds and hundreds of portraits, engraved in
copper, and in some cases drawn, pasted on to the wall
in a certain order, and separated by coloured bands and
spaces.

«I favour you, my friend, in a way that is not for every
one; this is the sanctuary in which I contentedly spend
my last days. Here I recover from all the mistakes
which society makes me commit, and here I restore my
dietetic errors into equilibrium.”

Lucidor gave a glance at the whole, and being well read
in history, he saw at once that an historical taste lay at
the bottom.

« Here above in the frieze,” said the old man, “you will
£nd the names of excellent men of the remote past; then,
of the later ones still only the names, for how they looked
it would be difficult to find out. But here in the chief space
my own life is actually concerned, for here are men whom
I heard mentioned as a boy. For about fifty years the

names of distinguished men will remain in the memory
H 2
100 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I

of the people, but beyond that lapse of time they either
disappear or become legendary. Although of German
parents, I was born in Holland, and to me William of
Orange, as Stadtholder and King of England, is the
prototype of all ordinary men and heroes. But now you
see Louis XIV. close to him, than whom 2

How willingly Lucidor would have liked to interrupt
the good old man, if it had been seemly to do so—as
indeed it probably beseems us, the storyteller, to do; for
he was threatened with modern and the most recent
history, as was easily to be gathered from the portraits of
Fredrick the Great and of his generals, towards whom he
was pointing.

if the kind youth honoured the lively sympathy of the
old man for the time immediately preceding his own as
well as for the present, and if certain individual traits
could not escape him as being interesting, still he had
already heard modern and recent history in universities,
and what one has once heard, one thinks one will always
know. His mind was far away; he did not hear, he
scarcely could see, and was just on the point of blunder-
ing towards the door and down the mortally long stair-
case, in the most awkward manner, when a violent
clapping of hands was heard from below.

Whilst Lucidor drew back, the old man put his head
out of the window, and from below there resounded a
well-known voice : * Come down ; for Heaven's sake, come
out of your historical picture gallery, old gentleman!
Finish your fasting, and help me to appease our young
friend, when he comes to know the matter. I have been
treating Lucidor’s horse somewhat recklessly ; it has cast
a shoe, and I have had to leave it behind. What will
he say ? Oh, it is too absurd, when people are absurd !”

“ Come up,” said the old man, and turning himself
towards Lucidor: “ Now, what do you say?”

Lucidor was silent, and the wild youth entered. The
questions and replies occasioned a long scene; enough,
they resolved to send the groom at once to take care of
the horse.

Leaving the old man behind, the two young people
hurried back to the house, whither Lucidor allowed

 

 
Crap. IX.) WHO IS THE TRATTOR® © 461.

himself to be taken, not quite unwillingly; because,
come of it what might, within those walls at least
was enclosed the only wish of his heart. In such a
desperate case, we hopelessly lose the help of our free-
will, and feel ourselves relieved for a moment, if from
anywhere determination or coercion lay hold of us. Still,
when he entered his room, he found himself in a very
strange frame of mind, very like a man who is compelled
against his wish to return to the inn that he has just
left, because he has broken an axletree.

The merry youth presently pounced on the port-
manteau, to unpack everything in order; particularly he
placed together whatever there was at hand of holiday
attire, although it might be meant for travelling. He com-
pelled Lucidor to put on shoes and stockings, arranged
his closely curled brown locks of hair, and rigged him
out at his best. Then stepping a few paces back, he con-
templated our friend, and his handiwork, from head to
feet, and cried : “ Now at least, my little friend, you look
like a man who has some claims on pretty maidens, and
sufficiently in earnest to be looking out for a bride. Only
just a moment, and you shall see how I manage to come
to the front, when the hour strikes! I have learned that
from officers, after whom the girls are always looking,
and moreover I have enlisted myself in a kind of military
corps, and now they look at me too again and again,
for none of them knows what to make of me! Now,
out of all this looking here and there, this admiration
and attention, there often ensues something very pretty
indeed, which, if it is not lasting, is still worth our
while to devote a moment to. But now, my friend, come
and show me the same service! When you see me slip
bit by bit into my covering, you will not deny wit and a
knack of invention to the careless boy !”

So he dragged his friend along with him, through
the long rambling corridors of the old chateau. “I
have made my lair,” he exclaimed, “quite in the back-
ground. Without wishing to conceal myself, I like to
be alone; for one cannot make it quite pleasing to the
others.”

They passed by the justice-room, just as a servant
109. “. 'WILHBLM EISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book L

came out carrying an antique writing-desk, black, big, and
completely filled ; paper too was not forgotten.

« T know well enough what is going to be scribbled
again within there,” exclaimed the youth. “Go away,and
leave me the key. Just give a peep into it, Lucidor. It
will amuse you until I am dressed. Toa man of law
such a place is not as unattractive as to a stable-fellow.”
And so he pushed Lucidor into the magisterial hall.

The young man at once felt himself in a familiar and
congenial element ; the recollection of the days when, on
business bent, he was sitting at such a table, listening
and writing, repeated itself. Nor did he remain unaware
of the fact that here a fine old domestic chapel had, at the
change of religious opinions, been commuted to the service

—=of 1'hemis. On the shelves he found titles and deeds already
known to him; he had worked at these very matters
himself, in the capital. On his opening a bundle, a
rescript fell into his hand which he himself had engrossed,
and another which he had drafted! Hand-writing and
paper, the seal of the Chancellery, and the signature of
the president, all recalled to his mind that season of the
legitimate striving of youthful hope. And then when he
looked round, and caught sight of the official chair of the
high-bailiff, designed and destined for himself, so fine a
position, and such a worthy sphere of activity, which he
ran the risk of rejecting and renouncing : all this assailed
him with a double and threefold strength, whilst the
form of Lucinda seemed at the same time to retreat away
from him.

He wanted to go out into the open air, but found himself
imprisoned. His wonderful friend had either heedlessly
or wantonly locked the door behind him : still our friend
did not remain long in this most awkward confinement,
for the other came back, excused himself, and really
awoke good humour by his strange presence. A certain
loudness in the colours and cut of his dress was tem-
pered by natural taste, just as we do not deny a sort
of approval even to tattooed Indians.”

“ To-day,” he said, * shall make compensation for the
tediousness of past davs; good friends, merry friends
have arrived, pretty girls, lively enamoured creatures ; and

 
| Cuar. IX] WHO IS THE TRAITOR? 103

|

then too my father, and, wonder upon wonder, your father
too! It will be a feast. They are all already assembled
in the saloon for breakfast.

Lucidor felt at once in a mood as if he were peering
into a thick fog; all who were mentioned to him, whether
known or unknown, seemed to him as so many ghostly
forms; still his character, in conjunction with a pure
heart, kept him erect; in a few seconds he felt himself
equal to anything. He now followed his hurrying
friend with a firm step, firmly resolved to stay it out,
happen what might, and to explain himself, be it as it
would.

And yet he felt surprised at the threshold of the saloon.
In a large semicircle around the windows he at once
discerned his father, together with the high-bailiff, both in
full dress. He looked at the sisters, at Antony, and other
known and unknown people, with a glance that threatened
almost to become dim. He approached his father with
failing steps, who received him in a most friendly manner
yet with a certain formality, which scarcely favoured any
confidential approach. Standing before so many people,
he looked out for a convenient place for the moment; he
could have placed himself near Lucinda, but Julia, in
contrast with the constrained state of things, made a turn,
so that he was compelled to step towards her. Antony
remained near Lucinda.

At this critical moment Lucidor felt himself again as
one who has been charged with a trust, and, steeled with
all his juristic science, he recalled to mind in his own
favour that beautiful maxim : that we ought to treat the
affairs of strangers committed to our trust as our own ; and
why should we not treat our own in just the same spirit. As
he was well exercised in business statements, he quickly
ran through all he had to say. Meantime the company,
placed in a formal semicircle, seemed to be too much
for him. The substance of his statement he knew well
enough, but he could not find the beginning. Then on
a table he observed the great inkstand, with some legal
officials standing by; the high-bailiff made a movement,
as if to begin his address; Lucidor wanted to precede
him, and at the same moment Julia pressed his hand. This
104 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

took away all his presence of mind ; he was convinced that
it was all decided, that all was lost for him.

Now it was no longer the time when the present
collective lifelong associations or these family ties, con-
ventionalities of society and position, should be respected ;
he looked before him, withdrew his hand from Julia, and
was so quickly outside the door that the company lost
him before they were aware of it, and he himself outside
scarcely knew where he was.

Fearing the light of the sun, which shone on his head
in fullest splendour, avoiding the glances of people that
he met, groping along timidly, he went onwards until
he reached the large summer-house. At this point his
knees were about to fail him; he rushed in, and dis-
consolately threw himself on the ottoman beneath the
looking-glass : into such confusion had he been thrown in
the midst of the precise business-like company, which
seemed to be surging backwards and forwards around and
within him. His past existence struggled with the present:
it was a terrible moment.

And thus he lay for a time, with his face buried in the
cushion, upon which Lucinda’s arm had yesterday been
resting. Completely absorbed in his grief, feeling himself
touched, without having perceived any one approach, he
quickly raised himself; then he saw Lucinda, who was
standing near him.

Fancying that she had been sent to fetch him, and
charged to induce him with suitable sisterly words to
accompany her back to the assembly, to his repugnant
destiny, he exclaimed : “ They ought not to have sent you,
Lucinda, for it is you who drove me away from there; I
shall not return! Give me, if you are capable of any
pity, the opportunity and means for flight. For in order
that you may bear witness how impossible it is to bring
me back, then receive the key to my behaviour, which to you
and all must seem madness. Listen to the oath which I
had sworn to myself, and which, as irretrievable, I now
repeat aloud. With you only I wished to live, to use and
enjoy my youth, and old age as well, in its true and honest
completion. And let this be as firm and sure as anything
that has ever been sworn before the altar, which I now

Gadi dei
|
}
]
|

 

 

 

|

Car IZ) WHO IS THE TRAITOR ? 105

: swear, in leaving you, the most pitiable of all mankind.”

He made a movement to slip away from her, as she stood
so close in front of him, but she caught him gently in her
arms.

“What are you going to do?” he exclaimed.

“ Lucidor,” she said, “not pity you, as you imagine,
perhaps; you are mine, I am yours. I hold you in my
arms; do not be afraid of throwing yours round me.
Your father is satisfied with everything; Antony is to

| marry my sister.”

He drew back from her, astounded.

«(Can it be true?”

Lucinda laughed, and nodded; he freed himself from
her arms. :

“Tet me once more behold at a distance her who is
to belong so nearly, so closely to me.” He seized her
hands.

“ Face to face, Lucinda, are you mine?”

She replied, “ Yes, indeed,” with the sweetest tears in
the truest of eyes. He embraced her, and threw his head
behind hers; he clung there like a shipwrecked man to a

rock on the shore; the floor still trembled beneath him.

But now his enraptured glance, opening again, fell upon
the looking-glass. Then he beheld her in his arms, him-
self folded in hers; he looked towards it again and again.
Such feelings accompany a man all through his life; at
the same time, too, he saw on the mirrors face the land-
scape, that but yesterday had seemed to him so grey and
forbidding, now more splendid and glorious than ever: and
himself in such a position on such a background !—a
sufficient reward for all sufferings.

«We are not alone,” said Lucinda, and scarcely had he
recovered from his rapture, when there appeared girls and
boys, decked out and garlanded, carrying wreaths, filling
up the entrance.

“That ought all to have been different,” exclaimed
Lucinda. * How nicely it was arranged, and now it is all
clumsily mixed up.” A stirring march sounded from afar,
and they saw the company merrily coming in procession
up the wide road. He hesitated to go to meet them, and
only on her arm seemed sure of his steps. She remained.
   

106 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boos IL

at his side, awaiting from moment to moment the solemn =
scene of re-meeting, and of a pardon already granted. 4

But it had been fated differently by the mischievous =
gods; the merry, ringing tones of a post-horn from the
opposite side seemed to throw the whole ceremony into |
confusion. “ Who can be coming ?” exclaimed Lucinda.

Lucidor shuddered at a strange presence, and the
carriage too seemed quite strange. A new double-seated
travelling-chaise of the latest make. She ran into the
saloon. A remarkably well-dressed boy jumped down
from behind, opened the door, but no one got out. The
carriage was empty ; the boy got in, with a few dexterous
pulls he threw back the covering, and in an instant the
pretty contrivance was prepared for a most pleasant
drive before the eyes of all the company, who, in the mean-
time, had come up. Antony, hurrying in advance of the
rest, handed Julia to the carriage.

“Try whether this sort of vehicle will suit you,” he
said, “to drive in with me along the best roads through
the world. 1 shall take you along no other ones; and
if ever it should come to a pinch we will know how to
help ourselves. Pack-horses ought to be able to carry
us across the mountain and the carriage too.”

“ You are a darling!” exclaimed Julia.

The boy stepped forward, and, with the dexterity of
a conjuror, he showed all the conveniences, small advan-
tages and contrivances of the whole light structure.

“On the earth I am unable to thank you,” exclaimed
Julia; “only from this little moveable heaven, from this
cloud to which you raise me, I desire to thank you most
cordially.”

She had already jumped into it, throwing a kind
glance and a hand-kiss towards him.

“For the present you must not come in it with me;
but there is another whom I think of taking with me on
this trial drive. He has a trial still to undergo, too.”

She called to Lucidor, who, just then engiged in a
diffident conversation with his father and father-in-law,
gladly allowed himself to be pressed into the light vehicle,
since he felt an unconquerable need of only a moments
distraction in some way or other. He sat down by her;

 
| Crap. IX] WHO IS THE TRAITOR? 107
i
|

she called to the postilion how he should go. In the
twinkling of an eye they disappeared, enveloped in dust,
from the sight of the astonished spectators left behind.
Julia settled herself closely and comfortably in the corner.
“Now you, too, lean back here, Herr Brother-in-law,
that we may conveniently look at each other.”

Lucior. “You see my confusion, my embarrassment.

I am still as in a dream; help me out of it.”

Juris. “Look at the nice-looking village people, how
civilly they greet us. During your stay here you have
actually never been to the upper village: all well-to-do
people, who are all partial to me. There is no one so
rich that one cannot oblige him in some way or other by
‘some important service. This road, along which we are
| driving so comfortably, my father laid out, and so set
this good state of things on foot.”

Lucinor. “1 willingly believe it, and grant it; but
what have these external things to do with the confusion

of my mind?”

Juria. «Only patience, I want to show you the king-

' doms of the world and the glory thereof, now we are up
above! How clearly the level plain lies against the moun-
tains! All these villages owe a great deal to my father,
and to mother and daughters too, I dare say. The out-
skirts of that little town yonder are the first boundaries.”

Lucior. “1 see you are in a strange mood. You do
not seem to say outright what you wished to say.”

JuLia. “Now look down here on the left, how beauti-
fully everything discloses itself! The church with its
high lime-trees, the town-house with its poplars, behind
the village mound. The gardens, too, are lying before
us, and the park.”

The postilion drove faster.

JuLia. “You recognise that pavilion up there; it looks
just as pretty from here as the landscape does from there.
At this tree we stop. Now, just at this spot, we are
reflected up there in the large glass surface. They can
see us there very well, but we cannot distinguish our-
selves. Drive on! Probably it is not long since two

~ people have reflected themselves there more closely, and, if
T’m not much mistaken, with great mutual satisfaction.”
108 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

Lucidor in his vexation made no reply. They drove
along for a while in silence; the pace was very swift.

«“ Here,” said Julia, “the bad road begins; some day
you may make it a credit to you. Before we drive down-
wards, look once more across the country: my mother’s
beech-tree, with its magnificent summit, towers above
everything.”

“You drive on,” she continued to the coachman, “along
the bad road; we will take the footpath through the
valley, and will arrive over there before you.”

In descending, she exclaimed: “You must confess,
however, that the Wandering Jew, the restless Antony
Roamer,* knows how to make his pilgrimages tolerably
comfortable for himself and his companions. It is a very
handsome and comfortable carriage.”

And by this time she was at the bottom of the hill.
Lucidor followed thoughtfully, and found her sitting
on a nicely-placed bench. It was Lucinda’s favourite
place. She beckoned him to her.

JuLiA. “So we are sitting here, and are nothing to
one another |—and yet it was to have been so. The little
Quicksilver would not have at all suited you. You could
not love such a creature; she was repugnant to you.”

Lucidor’s astonishment increased.

Juris. “But Lucinda, now—she is the compendium
of all perfections, and the pretty sister was once for all
cut out. I see it; the question is trembling on your lips—
who could have informed us so correctly ?”

Lucipor. «A traitor lurks behind.”

JuLia. “Yes, indeed, there is a traitor in the game.”

Lucinor. “ Name him.”

Juris. “He is soon unmasked. It is yourself! You
have the praiseworthy, or blameworthy, habit of talking
to yourself, and so I will confess, in the name of all of
us, that we have in turns overheard you.”

Lucioor (jumping up). “A nice sort of hospitality,
to set a trap for the guest in this way!”

Juris. “Not at all. We did not think of listening to
you more than to any other individual. You know that

* See note, p. 88.
| Cusp. IX.] WHO IS THE TRAITOR ? 109

your bed stands in a recess in the wall, and on the
| opposite side there is another, which generally serves
only as a domestic repository. There we had, a few days
| before, forced our old gentleman to sleep, because we were
a good deal concerned about him in his distant hermitage.
Now on the very first evening you entered on the affair
with thai passionate soliloquy, the purport of which he
most opportunely disclosed to us the next morning.”

~ Lucidor had no heart to interrupt her. He moved
away.

JuLia (rising and following him). “ And of what service
this declaration was to us! For, I confess, although you
were not precisely antipathic to me, still the position that
awaited me was by no means so desirable. To become
a ‘Madam High-bailiff,’—what a horrible position! To
get a good, honest man, whose duty it is to declare the
law to the people, and who by sheer weight of law can
never attain to justice; who does justice neither by laws
above nor below, and, what is worst, not even to himself.
I know what my mother has suffered from the incor-
ruptibility, the inflexibility, of my father. At last, unfor-
tunately after her death, he began to display a certain
tenderness. He seemed to accommodate himself to the
world ; to reconcile himself to it, having hitherto vainly
fought against it.”

Lucimor (highly displeased at the affair, and vexed at her
frivolous treatment of it—stands still). “ For the diversion
of one evening this might pass; but to practise such a
mortifying mystification for days and nights on an un-
suspecting guest, is unpardonable.”

Juris. “ We have all shared in the guilt, we have all
overheard you; but I alone expiate the guilt of listening.”

Lucmor. “ All! So much the more unpardonable. And
how could you, during the day, look, without feeling
abashed, at one whom you so disgracefully and illegiti-
mately cheated by might? Still, 1 now see quite clearly
in a glance that all your arrangements for the day were
only calculated to make a fool of me. A worthy family
indeed! And what becomes of your father’s love of fair-
ness? And Lucinda ”

Juris. “*And Lucinda,’—what a tone! You would say

 
110 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. {Book I.

how deeply it grieves you to think evil of Lucinda,
to throw Lucinda into the same class with all the rest
‘of us.”

Lucipor. “TI do not understand Lucinda.”

Jura. “You mean to say, This pure soul, this quiet,
composed being; goodness, benevolence personified; this
woman as she ought to be, associating herself with a
frivolous company—with an inconsiderate sister, a spoilt
youngster, and certain other mysterious persons—that
remains incomprehensible.”

Lucipor. “ Yes, it is indeed incomprehensible.”

Joris. « Well, then, comprehend it. Lucinda’s hands,
like those of all of us, were tied. If you had been able
to observe her embarrassment, and how she could hardly
restrain herself from revealing everything to you, you
would love her doubly and trebly, if every true love were
not on its own account ten and hundred-fold. Besides,
J assure you the joke in the end became tedious to all
of us.”

- Lwucioor. “ Why did you not putan end toit?”

- Juris. “That too must now be explained. When your
first monologue had become known to our father, and he
could soon observe that mone of his children had any
objection to such an exchange, then he determined to
go over at once to your father. The importance of the
business gave him some misgivings. Only a father can
feel the respect that is due to a father. ‘He must be in-
formed about it at the very first,” said mine, * if afterwards,
when we are agreed, he is not to give a forced, reluctant
consent. I know him exactly; I know how firmly he
keeps to any thought, inclination or plan, and I am
anxious enough about it. He has mixed up Julia, his
maps and views, so closely in his thoughts, that he has
already formed the plan of finally establishing everything
here, when the day should come for the young couple
to settle down here, and could not so easily change
position and place: then he would devote to us every
holiday, and whatever of kindness and goodness he had in
mind. He must first know what a trick nature had
played upon us, for as yet nothing has been declared,
nothing decided.” Thercupon he took from us all the

 

 
Cuar. IX.) WHO IS THE TRAITOR? 111

most solemn hand-pledge that we would watch you and,
happen what might, would keep you here. How his
return has been delayed, how it has cost art, labour and
perscverance to obtain your father’s consent, that you may
hear from him yourself. Enough, the thing is settled, and
Lucinda is granted to you.”

And thus the two, quickly leaving their first seat, but
stopping on the road, talking continuously, and slowly
walking onwards, had reached an elevation on the
other side of the meadows and another well-constructed
high-road.

The carriage came driving quickly towards them ;
in a moment she directed her companion’s attention to
a strange spectacle. All the machinery in which her
brother took such pride was now animated and in motion ;
the wheels were conveying a number of people up and
down, swings were oscillating, poles were being climbed,
and you might see essayed all kinds of bold leaps and
springs above the heads of a countless multitude.

All this the young squire had put into motion, in order
to entertain the guests merrily after dinner.

“ You will still drive through the lower village,” ex-
claimed Julia; “the people like me, and they shall see
how happy I am.”

The village was deserted ; the young men had already
hastened, one and all, towards tue pleasure-ground ; old
men and women, aroused by the post-horn, showed them-
selves at doors and windows; they were all greetings and
blessings, and exclamations: “ What a handsome couple!”

Juris. “There now, you hear! we should probably have
suited one another in the end ; you may still repent it.”

Lucipor. “ But now, dear sister-in-law 2

JuLia. “Just so!—¢dear,” now that you have got rid
of me.”

Luciror. “Only a word more. There rests a heavy
responsibility upon you; what was the meaning of that
pressing of my hand, when you knew and must have felt
my awful position? Anything so thoroughly wicked I
have never yet known in this world.”

JuLria. “Thank God, if that were expiated, all would be
forgiven! I did not want you, it is true; but, that you

 
112 WILHELM MEISTER’'S TRAVELS. [Book IL 1

would have nothing to do with me, is a thing that no girl
forgives, and that pressure of the hand, you see, was for
the wretch. I confess, that it was more villainous than
was right, and I only forgive myself in forgiving you,
and so let all be forgiven and forgotten! Here is my
hand.”

He accepted it, and exclaimed: “ Here we are back
again already—already back in our park; and so you will
probably soon have made the round of the wide world and
perhaps back : we shall meet again.”

They had already arrived before the garden saloon. It
seemed empty ; the company, discontented at seeing dinner-
time so long delayed, had set out for a walk, but Antony
and Lucinda came forward. Julia threw herself out of
the carriage towards her friend, she thanked him with a
cordial embrace, and did not refrain from tears of deepest
joy. The cheeks of the noble man reddened, his fea-
tures expanded themselves, his eye looked bedimmed, and
from beneath this outward form shone forth a handsome
striking youth.

And thus the two couples proceeded towards the
company, with feelings that the loveliest dream could not
bestow.

 

 
( 113)

CHAPTER X.

Farner and son, accompanied by a groom, had reached
a pleasant neighbourhood, when the latter, stopping in
front of a lofty wall that seemed to surround an exten-
sive enclosure, intimated to them that they had now to
approach the great gate on foot, for no horse was admitted

within this enclosure. They rang the bell; the gate

was opened without a human figure being visible, and
they advanced towards an old building that peeped out

towards them between the venerable trunks of beeches
and oaks. It was wonderful to look at ; for old it seemed

in form, yet the bricklayers and stonemasons might but
just have left it, so new and perfect and well-finished
seemed the joints and elaborated decorations.

A heavy metal ring on a finely-carved door invited
them to knock, which Felix from wantonness did some-
what un-gently; this door too opened itself, and they found
at once in the hall a maiden lady of middle age, sitting
before an embroidery-frame, and occupied with a well-
designed piece of work.

She at once greeted the visitors as being already
expected, and began to sing a cheerful song, whereupon
there forthwith stepped out of an adjacent door a woman,
whom, from the appendages to her girdle, without any-
thing else, it was easy to recognize as the custodian and
acting housekeeper. She also with a friendly greeting
took the strangers up a flight of stairs, and opened for
them a room which impressed them in a solemn way, being
spacious, lofty, and panelled all round, with a series of
historical designs above. Two persons came towards them
—a somewhat youthful lady, and an elderly man.

The former at once frankly bade the guests welcome.
«You have,” she said, “been announced as one of our

I
114 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

circle. But how shall I without ceremony introduce to
you this gentleman? He is a family friend in the best

and widest sense: by day the instructive companion, by =

night astronomer, and physician on every occasion.”

“ And I,” added he in friendly manner, “recommend to
you this lady, as untiringly active, by day, by night when
need be, ready at hand, and always the most cheerful com-

panion to live with. Angela (for so this beauty, attractive

both in figure and bearing, was called) announced forth-

with Makaria’s approach : a green curtain was drawn aside,

and a remarkable elderly lady was pushed into the room,

in an easy chair, by two pretty young girls, and by two

other girls a round table, with an inviting breakfast.
In one corner of the massive oak benches round the
room cushions had been laid, upon which the three
above mentioned sat down, opposite to Makaria in her
easy chair. Felix ate his breakfast standing, walk-

ing about the saloon, and inspecting with curiosity the

knightly pictures above.

Makaria spoke to Wilhelm as to a confidential friend.
She seemed to enjoy a vivid description of her relatives;
it seemed as if she looked through the outward individual

mask into the inner nature of each of them. The persons
whom Wilhelm knew stood as if transfigured before his
soul : the intelligent benevolence of the worthy woman
threw off the outward husk, and ennobled and animated
the sound kernel.

After these agreeable subjects had been exhausted with
most kindly treatment, she said to her worthy companion :

 

 

“You must not again find an excuse in the presence of

this new friend, and once more put off the promised enter-
tainment ; he seems like one who would take a part in
it himself.”

But to this he replied: “ You know how difficult it is
to explain oneself on these subjects; for the question
is of nothing less than the abuse of excellent and far-
reaching expedients.”

“J grant that,” replied Makaria, “ for owe falls into a
double embarrassment. If one speaks of abuse, one seems
to impugn the worth of the method itself, for that is always

latent in the abuse; if one speaks about the method. then
Crap. X.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 115

one can scarcely allow that its thoroughness and value
admit of any abuse. Still, as we are in private, and do
not want to establish anything, or to produce any outward
effect, but only to enlighten ourselves, the discussion can
accordingly proceed.

“Still,” replied the cautious man, “we must first of
all ask whether our new friend has also a wish to take
part in a to some degree abstruse matter, or whether he
would not prefer to take needful repose in his apartment.
Can our subject be willingly and favourably received by
him apart from its connexion, without any knowledge as
to how we arrived at it?”

«If I were to explain, by something analogous, what
you have said, the case seems to me to be almost as if in
attacking hypocrisy one could be accused of an attack
against religion.”

“ We may let the analogy pass,” said the friend; ¢ for
the question now is of a complication of several remark-
able men, of high science, of an important art, and, in
short, of mathematics.”

«T have always,” replied Wilhelm, “even when I have
heard the most unfamiliar subjects discussed, been able
to appropriate something to myself; for whatever in-
terests one man, will also find a sympathetic echo in
another.”

« Assuming,” said the other, “that he has acquired a
certain freedom of mind; and as we give you credit for
this, I will not on my part at least make any objection
to your presence here.”

“ But what shall we do with Felix?” asked Makaria,
“who I see has already finished his inspection of the
pictures, and shows some signs of impatience.”

“May I whisper something to this young lady,” said
Felix, running somewhat quietly up to Angela, who went
aside with him, but soon returned laughing, when the
friend began to speak as follows :

«Tn cases in which one has to express disapproval, or
blame, or even only misgiving, I do not like to take the
initiative ; I look out for an authority, so that I can
reassure myself, in finding that some one else stands by
me. I praise without misgiving, for why should I be

12
116 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

silent, if anything falls in with me. Even if it should
evince my narrowness, still I have no need to be ashamed
of it; but if I blame, it may happen to me that I reject
something of excellence, and thereby draw on myself the
disapproval of others who understand it better; I am
obliged to retract, when I become enlightened. There-
fore I here bring some written matter, and some transla-
tions as well; for in such things I trust my own nation
as little as myself: an agreement from a distance and
from foreign parts seems to afford me more security.

After obtaining permission he began to read as follows:
but our courteous readers will probably be inclined
to approve, if we do not think fit to let this worthy man
read. For what has been said above about the presence
of Wilhelm at this discussion, applies even more to the
case in which we find ourselves. Our friends have taken
into their hands a novel, and if this has here and there
turned out more than reasonably didactic, we find it
advisable not to try too far the patience of our well-
wishers. The documents that lie before us, we are
thinking of having printed in some other place, and
on this occasion shall continue the narrative without
delay, since we ourselves are impatient to see the exist-
ing riddle solved. But still we cannot refrain from
making some further mention of what came under discus-
sion before the separation of this noble company in the
evening.

Wilhelm, after listening with great attention to this
reading, remarked quite unaffectedly : “I have heard here
about great natural gifts, capacities and abilities, and at the
same time about considerable diffidence in the use of them ;
if I were to express myself briefly about it, I should ex-
claim: ‘Great thoughts, and a pure heart, that is what
we have to pray God for!’ ”

Granting its full approval to these sensible words, the
company separated: but the astronomer promised to let
Wilhelm, on this clear and splendid night, have his full
share in all the wonders of the starry firmament.

A few hours later the astronomer bid his guest ascend
the winding staircase of the observatory, and at last step
out upon the completely open platform of a lofty round

 

 

 

 
Cuar. X.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 117

tower. A most brilliant night, sparkling and glowing
with all the stars of heaven, surrounded the observer, who
seemed for the first time to behold the lofty firmament in
all its glory. For in daily life, —irrespective of unfavour-
able weather, that conceals from us the splendid extent
of ether,—at home we are hindered by roofs and gables,
abroad by forests and by rocks, but most of all and every-
where by the inward commotions of the mind, which flit
to and fro and obscure the prospect more than all fogs or
storms.

Rapt and astonished, he shut his eyes. The immense
ceases to be sublime ; it surpasses our faculty of compre-
hension, it threatens to annihilate us.

«What am I, then, in comparison with the All?” he
said to his own spirit. How can I stand opposite to
Him ?—how can I stand in His midst?”

Yet, after a short reverie, he continued: ‘The result
of our evening’s conference solves also the riddle of the
present moment. How can man set himself against the
Infinite, otherwise than by collecting in his deepest inner-
most soul all the spiritual energies that are scattered in
every direction ; but by asking himself, How durst thou
even think of thyself in the midst of this eternal and living
order if there do mot also reveal itself within thee a
glorious moving principle circling round a pure centre ?
And even if it should prove difficult for thee to discover
this central point within thy bosom, yet wouldst thou
recognize it in this, that a benevolent and beneficent action
proceeds from it, and bears witness to it. Yet, who ought,
who is able to look back upon his past life, without feeling
in some degree bewildered ; as he will mostly find that his
will has been right, but his conduct wrong ; that his desires
have been blameworthy, yet their attainment longed-for.
Tow often hast thou seen these stars twinkling, and have
they not always found thee different? but they are ever
the same, and say ever the same thing: By our regulated
march, they repeat, we indicate the day and the hour.
Ask thyself also, How standest thou in reference to day and
hour ? And this time I can answer, Of present circumstances
I need not be ashamed : my intention is to reinstate a noble
family in longed-for union in all its members ; the road
118 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

is indicated. I shall inquire into what keeps noble souls
aloof; I shall remove hindrances, of whatsoever kind
they be. This thou mayest openly avow in face of these
heavenly hosts: if they took any heed of thee, they would
indeed laugh at thy narrowness, but they would certainly
honour thine intention, and favour its fulfilment.” :

With these words and thoughts he turned round to look
about him ; then Jupiter, the star of fortune, met his eye,
as gloriously luminous as ever; he took this as a good
omen, and for a time lingered gladly over the spectacle.

Presently the astronomer bade him come down, and let
him look through a perfect telescope at this very star,
considerably magnified and accompanied by its moons, as
a celestial wonder.

After our friend had remained some time absorbed in it,
he turned round, and said to the star-lover: “I do not
know whether I have to thank you for having brought
this star so immeasurably nearer to me. As I saw it
before, it stood in some relation to the innumerable others
of heaven and to myself; but now it stands out in my
imagination as incommensurable, and I do not know
whether I ought to wish to bring out all the remaining
host in like proportion. They would shut me in, oppress
me.”

And so our friend went on according to his custom, and
a good deal that was unpremeditated was discussed on the
occasion. To some reply of the man of science, Wilhelm
rejoined: “I can very well understand, that it must
give you sky-searchers the greatest pleasure gradually
to draw down to you all the immense universe, as I here
saw, and see, this planet: but allow me to say that, in
life in general and on the whole, I have found that these
means, by which we come to the aid of our senses, do not
exercise any morally favourable influence on man. He
who looks through spectacles thinks himself wiser than
he is, for his outward sense is thereby put out of balance
with his inner faculty of judgment. It belongs to a
higher culture, of which only excellent men are capable,
to reconcile in some degree what is inwardly true, with
this outward false effect. Whenever I look through a
glass, I become another man, and do not please myself;

 

 
Cuar. X.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 119

I see more than I ought to see; the world, ‘seen More
distinctly, does not harmonize with my inner self; and I
quickly put aside my glasses, as soon as my curiosity
as to how this or that distant object may be made is
satisfied.”

In reply to certain jocose remarks of the astronomer,
Wilhelm continued: ¢ We shall not banish these glasses
from the world, any more than any piece of machinery ;
but to the observer of morals, it is important to inquire
and to know whence many things about which com-
plaints are made have crept into humanity. Thus, for
instance, I am convinced that to the habit of wearing
spectacles is chiefly due the self-conceit of our young

eople.”

With these discussions the night had far advanced,
whereupon the astronomer, accustomed to watching, pro-
posed to his young friend to lie down on the camp-bed,
and sleep for a short time, and then with a fresher glance
to contemplate and greet Venus as she anticipated the
sunrise—who on this particular day promised to appear in
her completed splendour.

Wilhelm, who up to this moment had felt quite brisk
and cheerful, at this proposal of the kind and con-
siderate man, felt himself really exhausted: he laid him-
self down, and in a moment was sunk in the deepest
slumber.

When aroused by the astronomer, Wilhelm jumped up,
and hurried to the window; there he remained for a
moment transfixed with astonishment, and then exclaimed
enthusiastically : * What splendour! what a wondrous
sight!” Other words of rapture followed, but the sight
still remained a wonder, a great wonder to him.

«That this lovely star, that to-day appears in a ful-
ness and splendour quite unusual would surprise you, I
could foresee; but this I may maintain, without being
reproached for being cold: 1 see nothing wonderful —
nothing wonderful at all!”

« How could you?” replied Wilhelm, “since I bring it
with me, since I carry it within me, since I do not know
how it happens to me. Let me still look, dumb and
astounded, at it ; then do you feel it.”
120 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

After a pause, he continued: “I was lying in soft ]
but deep sleep, when I felt transported into the saloon,
as yesterday, but alone. The green curtain went up,
Makaria’s chair moved forward of its own accord like an
animated being; it shone with gold, her dress seemed
sacerdotal, her glance sparkled mildly ; I was on the point
of throwing myself down. Clouds spread forth around
her feet, and ascending they bore like wings the holy form
upwards: instead of her glorious countenance I beheld
through the parting clouds a shining star, that was ever
carried upwards, and through the opening roof united
itself with the whole firmament, which seemed to be ever
expanding and to embrace everything. In this moment
you arouse me; heavy with sleep I rush to the window,
still with the vivid image of the star in my eye, and as I
look, the morning star, of equal beauty, although perhaps
not of such refulgent magnificence, is really before me!
This real star, hovering yonder above, replaces that of
my dream, it consumes all that was glorious in that which
appeared to me; but still I look and look, and you are
looking also with me at what in point of fact ought to
have disappeared with the haze of my sleep.”

The astronomer exclaimed : ¢ Wonderful, wonderful
indeed! You do not know, yourself, what wonderful
things you are saying. May this not prognosticate the
decease of the glorious woman, to whom sooner or later
some such apotheosis is predestined.”

The next morning Wilhelm, in search of his Felix, who
at an early hour had quietly stolen away, hurried into
the garden, which to his astonishment he saw being tilled
by a number of girls. If not all beautiful, not one was
ugly, and none seemed to have reached her twentieth year.
They were variously dressed, as if belonging to different
localities; and were active, cheerful in greeting him, and
industrious.

He was met by Angela, who was walking to and $ro
in order to direct and criticize the work; and to her
the guest expressed his admiration at so pretty and
industrious a colony.

“This,” she replied, “does not die out; it alters, but
remains always the same. For with their twentieth year

 

 
Crap. X.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 121

these girls, as indeed do all the female inhabitants of our
establishment, enter upon active life, generally into the
state of marriage. All the young men of the neighbour-
hood, who are anxious to obtain for themselves a robust
wife, pay attention to what is going on here with us.
Neither are our pupils in any way shut up in this place;
they have already looked round about them—at many an
annual fair have been seen, desired, and betrothed ; and
thus several families are already attentively waiting for
another vacancy with us in order to introduce their own
daughters.”

After they had discussed this matter, the guest could not
conceal from his new friend his desire once more to look
through what had been read to them on the previous
evening. “I have grasped the main drift of the conver-
sation,” he said, “but now I should like to know more
correctly the details which came into question.” * Fortu
nately I find myself in a position,” she replied, * to satisfy
this wish of yours at once ; the familar relations towards
us, that have been granted to you so soon, justify me
in telling you, that those papers are already in my
hands, to be carefully kept, along with certain other
documents.”

« My mistress,” she continued, « is profoundly convinced
of the importance of impromptu conversation ; things occur
therein, she says, that no book contains, and yet again the
best that books have ever contained. Therefore she has
charged me with the duty of preserving a few good
thoughts that spring from an intellectual conversation as
so many grains of seed from a well-laden plant. Only
if we are faithful in preserving the present, she says, can
we have pleasure in tradition, in finding the best thought
already spoken, the most worthy sentiment already ex-
pressed. By this process we attain to the contemplation
of that agreement for which man has been born, in which
he must often find himself against his own will, whilst he
is only too fond of fancying that the world begins with
him from the very beginning.”

Angela went on to confide to the guest, that in this
manner a considerable manuscript collection had grown
up, from which on sleepless nights she would sometimes
122 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

read aloud a sheet to Makaria; on which occasions a
thousand details would in turn present themselves in a
wonderful way, just as when a mass of mercury falls, and
scatters itself on all sides in an innumerable multitude of
globules.

To his question, how far this collection of papers was
kept secret, she revealed to him that at all events only
their most intimate circle had knowledge of it, that she,
was quite willing to be responsible for it, and, since he
desired it, to lay a few sheets before him.

During this garden conversation they had arrived at the
chateau, and entering the room in one of the wings, she
said, smiling : «I will take this oppotunity of entrusting
you with another secret, for which you will be by no
means prepared.” Thereupon she made him peep through
a curtain into a closet, where, to his great astonishment,
he saw his own Felix sitting writing at a table, and was
unable at once to explain to himself this unexpected
diligence. But he was soon enlightened, when Angela
disclosed to him that the boy had seized for this purpose
the moment of his disappearance, and had declared that
writing and riding were the only things in which he had
pleasure.

Our friend was then introduced into a room, where in
cupboards round about he saw a number of well-arranged
papers. Labels of many kinds indicated the most various
contents ; discrimination and orderly arrangement were
everywhere conspicuous.

When Wilhelm proceeded to praise these advantages,
Angela gave the credit of it to the family friend—who
was capable of settling under his own supervision not only
the arrangement, but also in cases of difficulty the neces-
sary interpolation. Thereupon she found out the manu-
script that had been read aloud yesterday, and allowed the
eager guest to avail himself of it and all the rest, and not
only take notes, but even to copy them.

Here our friend had to go to work carefully, for there
was only too much that was attractive and desirable:
especially did he regard certain sheets of short and scarcely
connected propositions as particularly valuable. They were
products which, if we did not know their origins, would

 

 
‘Car. X.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 123

seem paradoxical , but which compel us by the aid of a re-
versed process of seeking and finding to return backwards
in order if possible to bring home to us the filiation of such
thoughts from afar and from below. Neither for these,
for the reasons stated above, can we grant a place. Still,
at the first opportunity that presents itself, we shall not
neglect, and shall beable in a proper place to put forward
a selection of what was here acquired.

On the morning of the third day our friend went to
Angela, and stood before her not without some embar-
rassment. ¢ To-day I must take leave,” he said, “and
receive my last commissions from that excellent lady,
whom I regret that I was not allowed to see during the
whole of yesterday. Now, something is weighing on my
heart, on my own innermost soul, about which I have
wished to be enlightened. If it be possible, then grant me
this favour.”

“TI think I understand you,” said the kind woman;
“yet speak on.”

« A wonderful dream,” he continued, ¢“ a few words also
from the earnest astronomer, a separate locked compart-
ment among the accessible cases, with the inscription, The
qualities of Makaria—all these suggestions are associated
with an inner voice, that tells me that this study of the
heavenly bodies is not merely a scientific amusement, a
striving after knowledge of the world of stars, but that we
ought rather to suppose that there is hidden in it some
peculiar relation of Makaria to the stars, to know which
must be a matter of the highest interest to me. I am
neither inquisitive nor importunate, but this forms such
an important case to the student of mind and character,
that I cannot refrain from asking whether, in addition to so
much confidence, this extra indulgence might also be kindly
granted ?”

« And I have the right to grant this,” replied the
amiable woman. ¢ Your remarkable dream has remained
indeed a secret to Makaria, but with our friends I have
observed and considered your singular intellectual sym-
pathy, your unexpected comprehension of the deepest
secrets ; and we may take courage to lead you farther.
Allow me in the first instance to speak figuratively! In
124 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I. i

things difficult of comprehension one does well to help :

oneself in this fashion.

“« As is said of the poet, the elements of the moral world :
are hidden in the depths of his nature, and have had to =
develope themselves from him little by little, so that

nothing existing in the world would come to view but of

what he had previously had a presentiment: even thus, =
it will seem, the relations of our solar system from the

beginning, at first in a state of rest, then little by little

developing, and afterwards becoming ever more distinctly =
animated, are fundamentally innate in Makaria. At
first she suffered from these apparitions, then she took
pleasure in them, and with her years her enjoyment

 

tear

 

increased. Yet she did not attain to the present harmony

and repose until she had gained the aid of the friend

whose merits you too have already learned to know

sufficiently well.
« As a mathematician and philosopher, incredulous from

the beginning, she was long doubtful whether this vision-

ary power of hers was not acquired; for Makaria had to
allow that, at an early age, she had enjoyed instruction in
astronomy, and had studied it passionately. But at the
same time, she also informed him, for many years of her
life she had put together and compared the inward appari-
tions and the outward phenomena, but never had been
able to find out any harmony between them.

“ Thereupon the man of science bade her explain to him
most minutely what she saw, which only from time to
time was quite clear to her; he then made his calculations,
and concluded hence, that she did not so much carry
within herself the whole solar system, but rather that
as an integral part she was spiritually moving within it.
He proceeded on this supposition, and his calculations
were corroborated in an incredible way by her state-
ments.

“ Thus much only do I for this time venture to confide to
you, and this too I reveal only with the urgent request not
to mention a word of it toanybody. For would not every
man of sense and understanding, with the purest goodwill,
still regard and declare such opinions to be mere fancies
and misunderstood reminiscences of a previously acquired
Car. X.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 125

‘gcience ? Even her family know nothing more precise

‘about it; it is these secret revelations, these rapturous

visions, that amongst her relations pass for a malady, by
which she is for a time prevented from taking a part in
the world and in her own interests. This, my friend,
keep quietly to yourself, and also say nothing about it to
Lenardo.”

Towards evening our wanderer was once more led into
Makaria’s presence: much that was pleasantly instruc-
tive came under discussion, from which we select the
following :

“From nature we possess no defect that could not
become a virtue, and no virtue that could not become a
fault. These latter are just the most problematical. Our
wonderful nephew has chiefly given me occasion to make
this remark—the young man about whom you have heard
in our family so many singular things, and whom I,
according to my relatives, are said to treat more indul-
gently and lovingly than is due.

“From youth up there was developed in him a certain
lively, technical cleverness, to which he entirely devoted
himself, and in which he happily advanced to manifold
knowledge and acquirements. Later, everything that he
sent home from his travels was always of the most artistic,
skilful, refined, and delicate handiwork, indicative of the
country in which he might happen to be, and which we
were expected to guess. From this it might be concluded
that he was and would remain a dry, unsympathetic man,
wrapt up in external things; in conversation, too, he was
not disposed to agree in general ethical matters, but pri-
vately and in secret he was endowed with a wonderfully
fine practical sense of good and evil, the praiseworthy and
the unpraiseworthy ; such that I have never seen him at
fault either towards his elders or juniors, his superiors or
inferiors. But this innate consciousness, unbridled as it
was, in single instances transformed itself into a whimsical
weakness ; he would even invent for himself duties where
they were not required, and sometimes quite needlessly
avow himself a delinquent.

« From his whole plan of travel, but particularly from
his preparations for returning, I believe that he fancies
126 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

himself to have offended a certain female belonging to our
circle, whose fate now causes him anxiety, from which he =
would feel relieved and absolved as soon as he could hear
that she was well; and Angela will tell you the rest.
Take this letter, and prepare a happy reunion for our
family. I sincerely confess I would wish to see him
once more in this world, and in taking leave of it to
bless him with all my heart.”

 

 
(a2)

CHAPTER XI.

Woes Wilhelm had circumstantially and correctly dis-
charged his commission, Lenardo replied, with a smile:
“Much obliged as I am to you for what I hear from
you, still I must add a question. Has not my aunt, in
conclusion, further commissioned you to inform me of a
seemingly trifling matter?”

The other reflected a moment. ¢ Yes,” he then said,
“T now recollect. She mentioned a young lady whom she
called Valerina. Of her I had to tell you that she is
happily married, and finds herself in a very desirable
position.”

“You roll a stone from my heart,” replied Lenardo.
“ Now I willingly return home, because I need not fear
that the recollection of this girl will make the place and
spot a reproach to me.”

“It beseems me not to ask what relation you have had
with her ;” said Wilhelm; “enough, you may be at ease,
if you should in any way sympathize with the fate of this
girl.”

«It is the strangest relation in the world,” said Lenardo;
“by no means a love affair, as one might easily fancy. I
may well confide in and tell you what, in point of fact,
is no story; but what will you think when I tell you

‘that my hesitation to return, the fear of coming back to

our home, those strange arrangements and questions
as to how matters looked, really had the object only
of finding out precisely how matters stood with this
child.”

“For, believe me,” he continued, “I otherwise know
well enough that we can leave people whom we know, for
a length of time, without finding them again materially
altered, and so too I expect soon to feel myself again quite
128 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

at home with my relatives. It was only the question
of this single person, whose situation must have been
altered, and has, thank Heaven! altered itself for the
better.”

«You make me curious,” said Wilhelm. You make
me anticipate something quite strange.” .

«1 at least think it so,” replied Lenardo, and began his
story as follows:

«T had from youth up cherished the firm resolve of
making the usual tour through civilized Europe in my
young days, but, as will happen, I deferred its execution
from time to time. The present attracted me, held me,
and the distant more and more lost its charm to me, the
more I read or heard told about it. Yet at last, urged by
my uncle, enticed by friends, who had gone into the
world before me, the resolve was made, and in fact sooner
than we were all well aware of.

« My uncle, who in point of fact had to contribute the
most in order to make the journey possible, had at once
no other object. You know him and his peculiarity, how
he always drives only at one thing, and first sets that
going whilst in the meantime everything else has to abide
and be quiet, whereby he has really effected a great deal
that might seem to be beyond the power of a single in-
dividual. This journey came upon him in some degree
unexpectedly ; but still he was able to collect himself at
once. Certain buildings, that he had undertaken, nay,
actually begun, were discontinued, and as he never likes to
infringe on his savings, like a clever financier he looked
about for some other expedients. The most convenient
was to collect outstanding debts, especially rents in arrear,
for this too was part of his method, that he was indulgent
towards debtors, as long as he, to a certain point, was in
no necessity himself. His steward received the list, and
on him devolved the execution. About the details we
heard nothing; only accidentally I heard that the tenant
of one of our farms, with whom my uncle had long
been patient, had at last been actually evicted, his
caution money retained in scanty satisfaction for the defi-
ciency, and that the land was to be leased to some one
else. This man was one of the sect of the “Quiet-in-the-
i
|
Cuar. XI] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS? 1. 129

land,” * but not, like his fellows, also prudent and
‘active ; beloved indeed for his piety and benevolence, but
‘reproached for his weakness as a manager. On the
death of his wife, a daughter, who was called simply the
Nutbrown Maid, though she already promised to grow up
‘active and determined, was far too young to take any
‘decided measures. Enough, the man went down-hill,
without my uncle’s indulgence having been able to pre-
vent his fate.”
“I had my journey in mind, and must needs approve of
‘the means for that end. All was ready; the packing and
'untying went on, the moments sped on. One evening I
once more strolled through the park, to take leave of the
familiar trees and bushes, when all of a sudden Valerina
crossed my path ;—for so the girl was called ; the other was
but a nickname occasioned by her brown complexion. She
| stepped towards me.”
 Lenardo stopped an instant, and mused. ¢ Yet, what
is the matter with me?” he said; was she called Vale-
‘rina? Yes indeed,” he continued ; “still, the nickname
was the more usual one. Enough, the brown girl stepped
towards me, and begged me warmly to interpose a kind
word with my uncle for her father and for herself. As I
knew how the matter stood, and saw well enough that it
‘would be difficult, nay, impossible, at that moment to do
anything for them, I spoke frankly to her, and put her
father’s own delinquency in an unfavourable light.
She answered me with so much clearness, and at the
same time with so much daughterly indulgence and love,
that she quite won my heart, and if the money had
been my own, I should at once have made her happy
| by granting her request. But it was now a question of
‘my uncle’s income ; the arrangements were his, the orders
his; according to his way of thinking, there was nothing
‘to hope for from what had already happened. Hitherto
I had always kept a promise sacred. Any one who asked
“anything of me, put me in a difficulty. I had so accus-
tomed myself to refuse, that I did not even promise what
| I intended to perform. This time, too, this habit stood
~ * A religious sect so called. See Gocthe’s Autobiography (trans.
vol. i. p. 30).
K
130 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L :

me in good stead. Her motives rested on an individual 7
case and on affection ; mine on those of duty and reason,

and 1 do not deny that in the end they scemed too severe 2
even to myself. We had already repeated the same thing

several times, without convincing one another, when dis-
tress made her more eloquent, and the inevitable ruin, that
she saw before herself, forced tears from her eyes. Her
compo~ed demeanour did not entirely forsake her, but she
spoke with animation, with emotion, and whilst I still =

continued to feign coldness and indifference, her whole soul

was revealed. I wished to end the scene, but all of a
sudden she lay at my feet, had seized my hand, kissed it,
and looked up at me so innocently and amiably imploring,
that for the moment I forgot myself. Raising her from
the ground I hurriedly said to her: “I will. do what I
possibly can : be quiet, my child ! © And then I turned into
a sibe path.

« «Do what is impossible!’ she called after me. I do
not remember what I wanted to say, but I said, ¢ I will,
and stopped.

“<Do!’ she cried suddenly, cheered with an expression
of heavenly hope. I nodded to her and hurried away.

“I would not in the first instance apply to my uncle, for
I knew him only too well: one must not venture to re-
mind him of details when he was occupied with the whole.
I sought the steward ; he had ridden out. In the evening
came guests—friends who wished to take leave. Playing
and eating went on until deep into the night. They re-
mained the following day, and the distraction blotted out
the picture of the urgent petitioner. The steward returned ;
he was more busy and over-worked than ever.” Everyone
was asking for him. He had no time to listen to me;
still, I made an attempt to get hold of him; but scarcely
had I mentioned the pious tenant to him, than he waved
me off with some impatience. “Do not, for heaven's sake,
say anything to your uncle about it, unless you want in
the end to get into trouble yourself.’

“ The day of my departure had been fixed; I had to
write letters, to receive guests, to pay visits in the neigh-
bourhood. My people had up to this time sufficed for my
service, but were by no means sufficiently dexterous in

 

 
Cuar. XI.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 131

lightening the business of departure. Everything devolved
upon myself; and yet, when the steward at last gave me
an hour at night to settle our financial affairs, I once more
ventured to intercede for Valerina’s father.

« ¢Dear baron,” said this active personage, ‘how can
such a thing recur to you? I have to-day had a difficult
business with your uncle; for what you require to get
away from here amounts to much more than we thought.
This is indeed quite natural, but yet awkward. In par-
ticular, the old gentleman has no pleasure, if a thing seems
to be done, while a good deal still lags behind ; yet it often
happens, and the rest of us have to pay penalty for it.
As regards the rigour with which outstanding debts have
to be exacted, he has made a law for himself: he makes
up his mind about it, and it would be difficult to induce
him to give in. Don’t do it, I beg you! It would be
altogether in vain.’

“1 allowed myself to be deterred from my request,
but not entirely. I besought him, since the execution
depended upon him, to go kindly and indulgently to work.
He promised everything, after the fashion of such persons,
in order to have peace for the moment. He got rid of me;
the hurry, the distraction increased. I sat in the carriage,
and turned my back on every sympathy that I might have
at home.

“A lively impression is like any other wound ; one does
not feel it as one receives it. Only later it begins to pain
and to fester. So it was in my case in regard to the scene
in the grounds. Every time that I was alone or unoccu-
pied, the image of the imploring girl arose like a vivid
picture before my soul, with all its surroundings, with
every tree and bush, the place where she knelt, and the
path down which I turned to get away from her. It was
an indelible impression, that indeed could be overshaded
and veiled by other images and sympathies, but never be
eradicated. It always arose new at every quiet hour, and
the longer it lasted the more painfully I felt the guilt with

~ which I had loaded myself against my principles, against

my habit—although not expressly, but only blunderingly,
for the first time involved in such a case.
“I did not fail, in my first letters, to ask our agent
E232
132 - WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor I.

how the affair had turned out. He was some {ime in
answering. Then he evaded replying on this point, then
his words were equivocal ; at last he was altogether silent.
The distance between us increased ; more objects inter-
vened between me and my home ; my attention was claimed
for many observations and many sympathies; the image
disappeared, and the girl, almost to her very name. The
remembrance of her occurred more seldom, and my fancy
not to communicate with my people through letters, but
only by means of tokens, contributed much to make my
former state of mind, with all its accompanying con-
ditions, almost disappear. Now, only as I approach nearer
home, when I am thinking of reimbursing my family, with
interest, what they have hitherto been content to dispense
with, now I am again assailed by this wonderful remorse
(I must even call it wonderful), in all its force. The
image of the girl is renewed with the images of my
friends, and I dread nothing more than to hear that she
has succumbed in the misfortune into which 1 plunged
her; for my neglect appeared to me a help towards her
ruin, a hastening of her sad fate. I have already said to
myself a thousand times, that this feeling was in reality
only a weakness, that, long ago, I had been impelled to
make the rule never to give a promise solely from fear
of repentance, and not from any more noble feeling. And
now even the repentance, which I shumned, seems to take
its revenge on me, laying hold of this instance instead
of a thousand others to torture me. At the same time
the image, the picture, that tortures me is so pleasant,
so sweet, that I willingly linger over it. And when I
think about it, then the kiss, which she impressed upon
my hand, seems still to burn me.”

Lenardo was silent, and Wilhelm replied quickly and
cheerfully: “Then I could not have shown you any
greater service, than by the supplement to my message,
just as the most interesting part of a letter may often be
contained in the pos'script. Indeed, I know but little
about Valerina, for I heard her only casually mentioned ;
but she is certainly the wife of a well-to-do landowner,
and lives happy, as your aunt assured me at parting.”

“Capital!” said Lenardo; ‘now, nothing holds me

 

 
Cuar. XI] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 133

back: you have absolved me, and we will at once set off
to my family, who, moreover, have been waiting for me
longer than is right.”

Wilhelm replied to this: “Unfortunately I am not able
to accompany you; for a special obligation devolves on
me, never to rest longer than three days, and not to re-
visit the places that I leave within one year. Pardon
me, if I dare not explain to you the reason of this
singularity.”

«I am very sorry,” said Lenardo, “that we should
lose you so soon, and that I am unable to assist you in
anything. Still, since you have once set yourself in the
way to do me good, you would make me very happy, if
you would go and see Valerina, inform yourself precisely
about her affairs, and then, either by letter or word of
mouth—for a third place of meeting can easily be found
—would give me, for the sake of my peace of mind, a
circumstantial report.

This scheme was further discussed; Wilhelm had been
told Valerina’s place of abode. He undertook to go and
see her; another place was appointed, whither the baron
was to come, and also bring with him Felix, who in the
meantime had remained behind with the ladies.

Lenardo and Wilhelm, riding side by side, had pursued
their way for some time, with varied conversation, through
pleasant meadows, when they once more approached the
carriage road, and overtook the baron’s carriage, which
was to wend its way homewards in company with its
master. Here the friends decided to part, and Wilhelm
in a few friendly words took leave, and once more promised
the baron to write him speedy news from Valerina.

«“ When I consider,” replied Lenardo, * that it would
only be a little way round, if I accompanied you, why
should I not go and see Valerina myself. Why not per-
sonally convince myself of her happy condition? You
were so kind as to offer your services as a messenger ;
why should you not be my companion? For a companion
[ must have, a moral support, just as one obtains legal
assistance, when one does not consider oneself quite equal
to the matter of law.”

Wilhelm’s objections, that as the long-absent one was
134 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IL 4

being waited for at home, it might make a singular im-
pression if the carriage returned empty, and aught else
of the same kind, could not prevail with Lenardo, and
Wilhelm had at last to accept the part of a companion,
with no pleasant thoughts as to the consequences that
were to be feared. The servants, therefore, were in-
structed as to what they would have to say on arrival,
and the friends presently struck the road that led to
Valerina’s dwelling. The neighbourhood seemed rich and
fruitful, and the true home of agriculture. Thus, in the
ground belonging to Valerina’s husband, the soil was
thoroughly good, and tilled with great care.

Wilhelm had time to inspect the landscape closely,
while Lenardo rode in silence by his side.

At last the latter began : ¢ Another in my place would
perhaps try to approach Valerina unknown; for it is
always a painful sensation, to present oneself to those
whom one has offended; but I will rather endure that,
and bear the reproach that I fear from her first glances,
than screen myself from it by disguise and falsehood.
Falsehood may put us in as great an embarrassment as
truth ; and when we strike a balance of how often one or
the other avails us, it will always prove worth our while
once for all to resign ourselves to truth.” Let us. there-
fore go forward confidently ; I shall give my name, and
introduce you as my friend and companion.”

They had now reached the farmhouse, and dismounted
in the yard. A fine-looking man, simply clad, whom
they could have known for a farmer, came towards them
and announced himself as the master of the house.
Lenardo gave his name, and the farmer seemed highly
delighted to see him and to make his acquaintance.
“ What will my wife say,” he exclaimed, when she
sees again the nephew of her benefactor! She cannot
imagine or describe all that she and her father owe
your uncle !”

What strange ideas forthwith crossed each other in
Lenardo’s mind! ¢ Does this man, who seems so honest,
conceal his bitterness behind a friendly face and smooth
words? Is he able to utter his reproaches with such a
pleasant outward aspect? For has not my uncle made this

 

 

 
Cusp. XI.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 135

family unhappy? And can it have remained unknown to
him ? Or—as it occurred to him with quick hopefulness—
did the affair turn out less badly than you think? For,
after all, you have never received any precise information.”
Such suppositions alternated to and fro, whilst the master
of the house caused the horses to be harnessed, in order to
fetch his wife, who was paying a visit in the neighbourhood.

«If, in the meantime, until my wife returns, I may
entertain you after my fashion, and at the same time con-
tinue my work, take a few steps into the field with me,
and see how 1 manage my business; for surely to you, as
a great landowner, nothing can be more attractive than
the noble science, the noble art, of tilling the soil.”

Lenardo did not object; Wilhelm was glad to instruct
himself; and the farmer kept his land and soil, which he
occupied and owned without let or hindrance, in perfectly
good order. Whatever he undertook was calculated for
the end in view; what he sowed and planted was tho-
roughly in the right place; he knew how to explain so
clearly all the treatment and the reasons, that anybody
could understand it, and would have thought it possible
to do and achieve the same—an illusion into which we
easily fall when we look at a master who does everything
with ease.

The strangers showed themselves highly satisfied, and
could bestow nothing but praise and approval. This he
took thankfully and kindly, but still added, * But now I
must also show you my weak side, which indeed is always
observable in anyone who devotes himself exclusively to
one object.”

He took them into his yard, showed them his imple-
ments, his stock of these, as well as the stock of all
imaginable appliances, and what appertained to them.
“| am often blamed,” he said, for going too far in these
things; but indeed I cannot reproach myself on that
account. Happy is he to whom his business also becomes
his toy, who at last actually plays and enjoys himself in
what his situation has made a duty.”

The two friends were not wanting in questions and
inquiries. Wilhelm particularly enjoyed the general
remarks, to which this man seemed addicted, and did not
136 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

fail to reply to them; whilst Lenardo, more absorbed in
himself, was quietly sympathising with Valerina’s happi-
ness—which in this state of things he took for granted—
yet with a feeling of uneasiness, of which he could give
no account to himself.

They had already returned to the house, when the
hostess’s carriage drove up. They hurried towards it;
but how astonished, how shocked was Lenardo, when he
beheld her dismount. It was not she; it wasnot the Nut-
brown Maid: nay, just the reverse—a fine slim figure
enough, it is true, but fair, with all the advantages pecu-
liar to fair women.

This beauty, this grace, shocked Lenardo. His eyes
had sought the brown maiden ; now there beamed on him
quite a different one. He remembered these features, too ;
her address, her manner relieved him soon of every
uncertainty—it was the daughter of the lawyer, who
was held by the uncle in great esteem, on which
account he had also done a good deal towards setting
up and helping the young couple.

All this, and more too, was joyfully recounted by the
young woman as an introductory greeting, and with a
delight such as the surprise of recognition calls forth with-
out restraint. They enquired whether they remembered
each other; they discussed the alterations in appear-
ance, that are perceptible enough in persons of this
age. Valerina had always been charming, but was in the
highest degree amiable when joy drew her out of het
ordinary indifferent mood. The party became talkative,
and the conversation so lively, that Lenardo could recover
himself and hide his astonishment. Wilhelm, to whom
his friend had soon given a hint about this strange
occurrence, did his best to help him ; and Valerina's little
vanity, that the baron had remembered her, even before
he had seen his own people, did not allow her to en-
tertain the least suspicion, that any other intention or
a misunderstanding was involved.

They remained together until late at night, although
the two friends were longing for a confidential conversa-
tion, which began then and there, as soon as they were
alone together in the guest-chamber.

 

 
Cuar. XI] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 137
«Tt seems,” said Lenardo, “that IT am not to be relieved
of my anxiety. An unfortunate confusion of names, as
I perceive, increases it. This fair beauty I have often
seen playing with the brown one, who could not be called
a beauty; aye, even I myself, although much older,
used to run about with them in the fields and gardens.
Neither of them made the slightest impression upon me ;
I have only remembered the name of one of them, and
bestowed it on the other. Now I find the one who does
not interest me, after her own fashion happy beyond
measure, whilst the other has been cast upon the wide
world, who knows whither!”

On the following morning the friends were up almost
earlier than the active farm-people. The pleasure of
seeing her guests had also awakened Valerina betimes.
She did not apprehend in what frame of mind they came
to breakfast.

Wilhelm, who saw well that Lenardo remained in a
most painful state, without any information about the
Nutbrown Maid, turned the conversation to pastimes, to
games, to the locality, which he himself knew, to other
recollections—so that Valerina at last quite naturally came
to mention the Nutbrown Maid, and pronounced her name.

Scarcely had Lenardo heard the name of Nachodina, than
he remembered it perfectly; but also, with the name, the
image of the supplicant returned to him with such an
overwhelming power, that everything else became quite
unendurable as Valerina with warm sympathy related
the eviction of the pious tenant, his resignation, and his
departure, and how he had leaned upon his daughter, who
carried a little bundle. Lenardo thought that he should
faint. Unfortunately, and at the same time fortunately,
Valerina expatiated upon certain circumstances, which

“although they wounded Lenardo’s heart, still made it pos-
‘gible for him, with the assistance of his companion, to
show some presence of mind.

They took leave amidst many and sincere requests on
the part of husband and wife, that they would return

soon, and half-feigned assent on the part of the two guests.
And as with a man who has a good opinion of himself,
everything turns to his advantage, so Valerina finally
 
 

138 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IL

interpreted Lenardo’s silence, his visible distraction at 4
parting, his hurried departure, in her own favour; and
although the faithful and loving wife of an excellent
farmer, she still could not help feeling a certain com-
placency in the reawakened or mnewly-born inclination,
as she took it to be—of her former landlord.

After this strange occurrence, Lenardo said: ‘With
such fine hopes, to have been shipwrecked so close to the
harbour! The only thing that can now in any degree cheer
me up, tranquillize me for the moment, and let me present
myself to my people, is the consideration that Heaven has
sent you to me—you, to whom from the nature of your
own peculiar mission, it is indifferent whither or to what
purpose it directs your path. Do you then undertake to
find Nachodina, and give me news of her. If she is
happy, then I am content; if she is unhappy, then help
her at my expense. Act without misgiving ; spare, omit
nothing.”

« But towards what quarter of the earth,” said Wilhelm,
laughing, “must I direct my steps? If you yourself
have no idea, how shall I be endowed therewith ?”

“ Look here!” answered Lenardo, “last night, when
you saw me pacing restlessly to and fro, passionately up-
setting both my heart and head about the matter, there came
to my mind an old friend, a worthy man, who without
exactly tutoring me, has had a great influence upon my
youth. I should like to have had him, at least for some
time, as a travelling companion, if he had not been
extraordinarily bound to his home by the most beautiful
rarities of art and antiquity, which he only leaves for a
few moments at a time. He, I know, enjoys an extensive
acquaintance with everything that in this world is bound
by any worthy clue ; you hasten to him, tell him all that I
have said, and it remains to be hoped, that his kindly
feeling will suggest to him some place, some region, where
she may be found. In my trouble it occurred to me, that
the father of the child belonged to the denomination of
Pietists; and, at the moment, I became sufficiently pions
to apply myself to the moral ordering of this world, and
to pray that in the present case, it may, with miracu-
lous grace, reveal itself for once in my own favour.”

 
Cuar. XI] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 139

“ But there is still a difficulty,” replied Wilhelm, “that
remains to be solved. What must I do with my Felix?
For I should not like to take him about with me upon
a so utterly uncertain mission, and yet I should not like
to part with him, for it seems to me, that the son nowhere
developes himself better than in the presence of the
father.”

“By no means!” replied Lenardo, “this is a kindly
paternal error. The father always retains a kind of de-
spotic relation towards the son, whose virtues he does
not recognize, and in whose faults he takes pleasure; on
which account even the ancients used to say, that the
sons of heroes turned out good-for-nothings, and I have
seen enough of the world, to make up my mind as to that
matter. Happily our old friend, to whom I will at once
give you a hurried letter, will also be able to suggest the
best solution of this matter. When years ago I saw him
last, he told me a great deal about a certain pedagogic
association which I could only consider a kind of Utopia ;
it seemed to me as if, under the image of reality, a series
of ideas, thoughts, proposals and intentions, were meant,
which were really connected, but which in the ordinary
course of things would be rather difficult to meet with.
But because I know him, and because he likes to realise
by means of images what is possible and impossible, I
approved of it, and now it will serve our purpose; he is
certainly able to indicate to you the place and surround-
ings to which you can confidently entrust your boy, and
hope the best from a wise training.

Conversing together in this manner as they rode, they
came in view of a noble villa; its construction in a plea-
santly sombre style, with an open space in front, and some-
what farther, a dignified surrounding of well-grown trees.
Doors and shutters, however, were everywhere closed ; all
was deserted, yet at the same time looked in good con-
dition. From an elderly man, who seemed to be employed
at the entrance, they learned, that this was the inheritance
of a young man, to whom it had been left by his father,
who had died quite recently at a very advanced age.

On further enquiry, they were informed that to the
heir it unfortunately seemed all too complete: nothing
140 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

was left for him to do, and that to enjoy things ready at
hand was by no means Ils fashion ; that therefore he had
sought out for himself a locality nearer to the mountains, °
where he had built log huts for himself and his com-
panions, and intended to found a kind of hunters’ hermitage.
As far as concerned their informant they gathered that he
was the hereditary steward, and took the most punctilious
care for the preservation and cleanliness of the premises,
in order that a grandson, succeeding to the tastes and
the possession of the grandfather, might find everything
just as the latter had left it.

Having for some time pursued their road in silence,
Lenardo commenced with the observation, that it was a
peculiarity inherent in man, to want to begin at the
beginning ; upon which his friend replied, that this was
an easy thing to explain, and allow for, because in a
strict sense everyone really did begin from the beginning.

« And yet,” he exclaimed, “if to none are the sufferings
remitted with which his ancestors were tortured, can you
blame him for not wanting to have anything to do with
their pleasures?”

Lenardo thereupon replied, “ You encourage me to con-
fess that in reality I do not like to work at anything but
what I have myself created. Ineverliked a servant whom
I had not educated from a child, or a horse that I had not
myself broken in. In consequence of this mode of think-
ing; I will also willingly confess that 1 am liresistibly
drawn towards primitive conditions; that my travels
through all highly civilized lands and people have not
availed to blunt these feelings ; that my imagination seeks
a pleasure beyond the sea, and that a hitherto neglected
family possession in those young countries allows me
to hope that a plan of mine, conceived in solitude and
gradually maturing in accordance with my wishes, will at
last be executed.”

«] have nothing to object to this,” Wilhelm replied
«gan idea of this kind, turned towards what is new and
unsettled, has something peculiar and great about it. I
only beg you to reflect, that such an enterprise can only
succeed for a community. You cross the sea, and there
find family possessions ready, I know; my friends enter-

 

 
i ———

) Cuar. XI] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 141

tain similar plans, and have already settled there. ssso-
ciate yourself with these prudent, wise, and strong
people; for both sides the matter will thereby be lightened
and enlarged.”

With conversation of this kind the friends reached
the spot where they must now really separate. They
| both sat down to write; Lenardo recommended his friend
| to the singular man above-mentioned, and Wilhelm de-
scribed to his colleagues the position of his new associate,
out of which naturally enough arose a letter of recom-
mendation, in which, in conclusion, he also urged the
matter that he had discussed with Jarno, and further
set forth the reasons for which he wished to be freed as
soon as possible from-the inconvenient condition that
stamped him as a wandering Jew. In reading these letters
| to each other, Wilhelm could not refrain from again
| bringing home to his friend certain other doubts.

“J consider it,” he said, “in my position the most
enviable duty to free you, noble-hearted man, from a state
of mental anxiety, and at the same time to rescue a human
creature from misery, if she happen to be therein. Such
an aim one might regard as a star, by which we sail, even
whilst ignorant of what may happen to us, or what we
may meet on the road. Still, I cannot hide from myself
the danger to which in any case you are always exposed.
If you were not a man who absolutely declines to pledge
his word, I would require of you the promise never again
to see this female, who will cost you so dear; to content
yourself, if I inform you that she is well, in case I should
be fortunate enough to ascertain that she is really happy,
or am able to contribute to her happiness. But, since I
neither can nor will induce you to make any promise, I
implore you, by all that is dear to you and holy, for the
sake of yourself and your people, and of myself, your
| newly-acquired friend, never to allow yourself any

approach to that lost maiden on any pretext whatever;
- nor to ask me to indicate circumstantially, or even name

the place, where I may find her, or the neighbourhood
where I leave her. You must only believe my word that
she is well, and therewith be relieved and set at rest.”
~~ Lenardo laughed and replied : “Only do me this service,

 
 
 

142 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L 1

and I shall be grateful. You shall have the credit for what
you can and will do, and leave me to time, to common
sense, and if possible to reason.” :

« Pardon me,” Wilhelm replied ; “he whe knows under
what strange forms inclination insinuates itself into us,
must feel concerned when he foresees that a friend may
wish for that which, in his condition and in his cir- =
cumstances, must necessarily bring about misfortune and
confusion.”

«1 hope,” said Lenardo, “that if I know that the girl
is happy, I shall be done with her.” The friends then
separated, each in his own direction.

 

 

 
( 143 )

CHAPTER XIL

By a short and pleasant road, Wilhelm had reached the town
to which his letter was addressed. He found it cheerful
and well built; but an appearance of newness betrayed
only too clearly that it must have recently suffered from
fire. The address of his letter took him to the last, small
portion of the town that had escaped, to a house of an
ancient, solemn style of architecture. Coloured window-
panes, strangely combined together, gave indication of a
cheerful wealth of colour within. And the interior really
corresponded with the outside. In the sombre rooms were
seen on all sides pieces of furniture that might have served
several generations already, interspersed with but few
modern ones. The master of the house received him kindly,
in an apartment similarly furnished. Many an hour of
birth and death had these clocks already struck, and all
that stood around called to mind that the past could flow
on into the present. The visitor delivered his letter, but
his host laid it aside without opening it, and in a cheer-
ful conversation essayed in a direct way to become ac-
quainted with his guest. They soon grew confidential,
and when Wilhelm, contrary to his usual habit, allowed his
glances to run observantly about the room, the kind old
man said: “My surroundings awaken your interest. You
see here how long a thing can last. And one must, too,
look on such things as the counterpoise of what changes
and alters so rapidly in the world. This tea-kettle before
now served my parents, and was a witness of our evening
family gatherings. This copper fire-screen still continues
to protect me from the fire, which this strong old poker
stirs up, and so it is with everything. I have conse-
quently been able to devote sympathy and activity to
many other subjects because I have not troubled myself
  

144 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book L

further about the changing of these external requirements
that expend the time and strength of so many people. A =
loving attention to what man possesses makes him rich
while he thereby amasses for himself a wealth of memories
in unimportant things. I have known a young man, who,
in taking leave of his sweetheart, stole from her a pin, with
which he used daily to pin on his cravat, and actu-
ally brought home from a distant journey of many years’
length this cherished and carefully preserved object. To
us other petty human beings this may well be reckoned
‘as a virtue. :

“ Many also,” added Wilhelm, “ perhaps bring back from
a like long journey a thorn in the heart, that probably
they would rather be free of.” 3

The old man seemed to know nothing about Lenardo’s
circumstances, although he had in the meantime opened
and read the letter, for he again returned to his former
reflexions.

« Attachment to what we possess,” he continued, “in
many instances gives us the greatest energy. To this
kind of selfishness I owe the saving of my house. When
the town was on fire, those too, who were with me, wanted
to run away and escape. I forbade it, ordered windows
and doors to be shut, and with several of my neighbours
turned to deal with the flames. Our efforts were successful
in saving unscathed this corner of the town. The next
morning everything in my house stood as you see it, and
as it has stood almost a hundred years.”

“ With all that,” said Wilhelm, ¢ you will confess that
man cannot resist changes that time brings about.”

“Granted,” said the old man, but still he who has kept
himself longest has also achieved something. Nay, we
are even able to preserve and make sure beyond the term
of our existence: we hand down knowledge, we transfer
tastes just as well as property ; and as it is for me chiefly
a question of the latter, I have on this account for a long
time been wonderfully cautious, and hit on quite peculiar
expedients; but only of late have I succeeded in seeing my
desire fulfilled. Usually the son scatters abroad what
the father has collected, ccllects something different, or
in different manner. But if we are able to wait for the

 

 
Crap. XII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 145

grandson, for the new generation, then the same inclina-
tions, the same objects come to light. And thus at last
through the interest of our pedagogue-friends, 1 have
got hold of a fine young man, who if possible is more
tenacious of heirlooms than myself, and feels a strong bent
for curious things. He has entirely gained my confidence .
through the strenuous efforts by which he succeeded in
averting the fire from our house; he has doubly and
trebly earned the treasuwie, the possession of which I
think of bequeathing to him; nay, it is already handed
over to him, and since that time, our store has been:
increased in a wonderful way. Yet not all that you see
here is ours ; rather, just as at a pawnbroker’s you behold
many an alien jewel, so I can also point out to you some
valuables, which under the most diverse circumstances
have been deposited here for better keeping.”

Wilhelm thought of the splendid casket, which in
any case he did not like to carry about with him on
journeys, and he did not refrain from showing it to his:
friend. The old man looked at it attentively, named
the time when it must have been made, and showed
him something similar. Wilhelm then mooted the point
whether it might be opened.

The old man thought not.

«T believe indeed,” he said, ‘‘that it could be done,
without any particular damage; but since you have ob-
tained it by such a strange accident, you ought to try your
fortune with it. For if you are born to good luck, and
if this casket betokens anything, then in time the key
must be found for it, and just where you expect it least.”

“ There are probably such cases,” replied Wilhelm.

«T have myself experienced several,” answered the old
man, “and here you see the most remarkable one before
you. For thirty years I possessed the body of this ivory
crucifix with head and feet all of one piece ; for its subject,
as well as its most exquisite art, it was carefully locked
up in my most precious drawer. About ten years ago,
I received the cross belonging to it, with the inscrip-
tion, and I let myself be persuaded to have the arms
put on, by the cleverest carver of our time; yet how
far was the good man behind his predecessor! Still, it

L
146 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book I.

might pass, more for edifying contemplation than for
admiration of the workmanship. Now, only think of
my delight! A short time ago I received the original,
genuine arms, as you here see them, fitted on in the love-
liest accord! And in my rapture at so happy a coinci-
dence, I cannot refrain from recognizing in this the
destinies of the Christian religion, which, often enough
divided and scattered, must yet at last meet again at
the cross.”

Wilhelm admired the image and its strange recombina-
tion. “I shall follow your advice,” he added; “let the
casket remain shut, until the key has been found, even
if it should lie by to the end of my life.”

“ He who lives long, said the old man, “sees many
things gathered together, and many dispersed.”

The young joint-owner just then entered, and Wilhelm
declared his intention of entrusting the casket to their
keeping. A large book was now brought, and the pro-
perty entrusted was entered; a receipt was made out
with the observance of many ceremonies and stipulations.
It was, in point of fact, expressed in favour of any-
one who presented it, but would be honoured only on a
special sign agreed upon with the receiver.

When this was all completed, the contents of the letter
were considered, the reception of the good Felix being
first discussed, in which matter the elderly friend, without
more ado, propounded certain maxims, which ought to
form the basis of educa‘ion.

«All life, all activity, all art must be preceded by
handiwork, that can only be acquired in a limited sphere.
A correct knowledge and practice give a higher culture
than half-knowledge in hundredfold. In the place that
I have indicated to you, all activities have been isolated ;
the pupils are tested at every step; thereby a man finds
out whither his nature really tends, or if he is turning
with confused wishes, now this way, now that. Wise men
allow the boy to find at hand what suits him ; they cut
off the byroads along which men will only too easily
stray away from their vocation.

“In the next place,” he continued, “I venture to hope
that, from that grandly based centre, they will guide you

a
Crap. XII.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 147

upon the road to where that good girl will be found
who has made such a wonderful impression upon your
friend, who by dint of moral feeling and reflexion has
so highly enhanced the value of an innocent, unfor-
tunate creature, that he has been compelled to make
her existence the end and aim of his life. I hope
that you will be able to set him at rest; for Providence
possesses a thousand means of raising the fallen, and
setting up those bowed down. Our destiny often looks
like a fruit-tree in winter. Who would think from its
pitiable aspect that those rigid boughs, those rough
twigs could next spring again be green, bloom, and even
bear fruit? Yet we hope it, we know it.”
148 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

BOOK 11

 

CHAPTER IL

Our pilgrims had performed the journey according to

programme, and prosperously reached the frontier of the
province in which they were to learn so many wonderful
things. On their first entry they beheld a most fertile
region, the gentle slopes of which were favourable to
agriculture, its higher mountains to sheep-feeding, and its
broad valleys to the rearing of cattle. It was shortly
before the harvest, and everything was in the greatest abun-
dance ; still, what surprised them from the outset, was
that they saw neither women nor men, but only boys and
youths busy getting ready for a prosperous harvest, and
even making friendly preparations for a joyous harvest-
home. They greeted now one, and now another, and
enquired about the master, of whose whereabouts no one
could give an account. The address of their letter was:
To the Master or to the Three, and this too the boys could
not explain ; however, they referred the enquirers to an
overseer, who was just preparing to mount his horse.
They explained their object; Felix’s frank bearing seemed
to please him : and so they rode together along the road.
Wilhelm had soon observed that a great diversity pre-
vailed in the cut and colour of the clothing, which gave ®
peculiar aspect to the whole of the little community. He
was just on the point of asking his companion about this,
when another strange sight was displayed to him: all the
children, howsoever they night be ocenpied, stopped thei
work, and turned, with peculiar yet various gestures,
towards the party riding past; and it was easy to infer

 
Crap. 1.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 149

that their object was the overseer. The youngest folded
their arms crosswise on the breast, and looked cheerfully
towards the sky; the intermediate ones held their arms
behind them, and looked smiling upon the ground ; the
third sort stood erect and boldly; with arms at the side,
they turned the head to the right, and placed them-
selves in a row, instead of remaining alone, like the
others, where they were first seen.

Accordingly, when they halted and dismounted, just
where several children had ranged themselves in various
attitudes and were being inspected by the overseer, Wilhelm
asked the meaning of these gestures.

Felix interposed, and said cheerfully : “ What position
have I to take, then?”

“In any case,” answered the intendant, “at first the
arms across the breast, and looking seriously and gladly
upward, without turning your glance.” He obeyed; how-
ever he soon exclaimed : “This does not please me parti-
cularly ; I see nothing overhead ; does it last long? But
yes, indeed,” he exclaimed joyfully, I see two hawks
flying from west to east; that must be a good omen!”

«It depends on how you take to it, how you behave
yourself,” rejoined the former; “now go and mingle
with them, just as they mingle with each other.”

He made a sign, the children forsook their attitudes,
resumed their occupations or went on playing as before.

“ Will you, and can you,” Wilhelm now asked, explain
to me that which causes my wonder? I suppose that these
gestures, these positions, are greetings, with which they
welcome you.”

« Just so,” answered the other; « greetings, that tell me
at once at what stage of cultivation each of these boys
stands.”

“ But could you,” Wilhelm added, “explain to me the
meaning of the graduation? For that it is such, is easy
to see.”

“That is the part of better people than me,” answered
the other; “but I can assure you of this much, that
they are no empty grimaces, and that, on the contrary,
we impart to the children, not indeed the highest, but
still a guiding and intelligible explanation; but at the
a“

150 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IL.

same time we command each to keep and cherish for
himself what we may have chosen to impart for the
information of each: they may not chat about it with
strangers, nor amongst themselves, and thus the teaching
is modified in a hundred ways. Besides this the secrecy
has very great advantages; for if we tell people immedi-
ately and perpetually the reason of everything, they think
that there is nothing behind. To certain secrets, even
if they may be known, we have to show deference by

concealment and silence, for this tends to modesty and.

good morals.”

“1 understand you,” said Wilhelm. ¢ Why should we
not-also apply spiritually, what is so necessary in bodily
matters? But perhaps in another respect you can satisfy
my curiosity. I am surprised at the great variety in
the cut and colour of their clothes, and yet I do not see
all kinds of colour, but a few only, and these in all their
shades, from the brightest to the darkest. Still I observe,
that in this there cannot be meant any indication of degrees
of either age or merit; since the smallest and biggest boys
mingled together, may be alike in cut and colour, whilst
those who are alike in gestures do not agree with one
another in dress.”

“ As concerns this, too,” their companion replied, “I
cannot explain any further ; yet I shall be much mistaken
if you depart hence without being enlightened about all
that you may wish to know.”

They were now going in search of the master, whom
they thought that they had found; but now a stranger
could not but be struck by the fact, that the deeper they
got into the country, the more they were met by a
harmonious sound of singing. Whatsoever the boys set
about, in whatever work they were found engaged, they
were for ever singing, and in fact it seemed that the
songs were specially adapted to each particular occupa-
tion, and in similar cases always the same. If several
children were in any place, they would accompany each
other in turns. Towards evening they came upon some
dancing, their steps being animated and guided by choruses.
Felix from his horse chimed in with his voice, and, in
truth, not badly; Wilhelm was delighted with this enter-
Cuar. 1.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 151

tainment, which made the neighbourhood so lively. “T
suppose,” he observed to his companion, ‘you devote
a great deal of care to this kind of instruction, for other-
wise this ability would not be so widely diffused, or so
~ perfectly developed.”

“ Just so,” replied the other; * with us the art of singing
forms the first step in education; everything else is sub-
servient to it, and attained by means of it. With us the
simplest enjoyment, as well as the simplest instruction, is
enlivened and impressed by singing; and even what we
teach in matters of religion and morals is communicated
by the method of song. Other advantages for independent
ends are directly allied ; for, whilst we practise the children
in writing down by symbols on the slate the notes which
they produce, and then, according to the indication of these
signs, in reproducing them in their throats, and moreover
in adding the text. they exercise at the same time the hand,
ear, and eye, and attain orthography and calligraphy quicker
than you would believe; and, finally, since all this must
be practised and copied according to pure metre and accu-
rately fixed time, they learn to understand much sooner
than in other ways the high value of measure and com-
putation, On this account, of all imaginable means,
we have chosen music as the first element of our educa-
tion, for from this equally easy roads radiate in every
direction.”

Wilhelm sought to inform himself further, and did not
hide his astonishment at hearing no instrumental music.

“We do not neglect it,” replied the other, “but we
practise it in a special place, enclosed in the most charming
mountain-valley ; and then again we take care that the
different instruments are taught in places lying far apart.
Especially are the discordant notes of beginners banished
to certain solitary spots, where they can drive no one
crazy; for you will yourself confess, that in well-regu-
lated civil society scarcely any more miserable nuisance
is to be endured than when the neighbourhood inflicts
upon us a beginner on the flute or on the violin. Our
beginners, from their own laudable notion of wishing to
be an annoyance to none, go voluntarily for a longer or
shorter period into the wilds, and, isolated there, vie with
-—

152 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

one another in attaining the merit of being allowed to
draw nearer to the inhabited world; on which account
they are, from time to time, allowed to make an attempt
at drawing nearer, which seldom fails, because in these, as
in onr other modes of education, we venture actually to
develope and encourage a sense of shame and diffidence. 1
am sincerely glad that your son has got a good voice; the
rest will be effected all the more easily.”

They had now reached a place where Felix was to
remain, and make trial of his surroundings, until they
were disposed to grant a formal admission. They already
heard from afar a cheerful singing; it was a game, which

“the boys were now enjoying in their play-hour. A general

chorus resounded, in which each member of a large circle
joined heartily, clearly, and vigorously in his part, obeying
the directions of the superintendent. The latter, however,
often took the singers by surprise, by suspending with a
signal the chorus-singing, and bidding some one or other
single performer, by a touch of his baton, to adapt alone
some suitable song to the expiring tune and the passing
idea. Most of them already showed considerable ability,
a few who failed in the performance willingly paid their
forfeit, without exactly being made a laughingstock.
Felix was still child enough to mix at once among them,
and came tolerably well out of the trial. Thereupon the
first style of greeting was conceded to him: he forthwith
folded his arms on his breast, looked upwards, and with
such a droll expression withal, that it was quite plain
that no hidden meaning in it had as yet occurred to
him.

The pleasant spot, the kind reception, the merry games,
all pleased the boy so well, that he did not feel particularly
sad when he saw his father depart; he looked almost more
wistfully at the horse as it was led away; yet he had no
difficulty in understanding, when he was informed that
he could not keep it in the present locality. On the other
hand, they promised him that he should find, if not tho
same, at all events an equally lively and well-trained one
when he did not expect it.

As the superior could not be found, the overseer said:

“I must now leave you, to pursue my own avocations ;

 
Cuar. 1] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 153

but still I will take you to the Three, who preside over
holy things: your letter is also addressed to them, and
together they stand in place of the Superior.”

Wilhelm would have liked to learn beforehand about
the holy things, but the other replied. The Three in
return for the confidence with which you have left your
son with us, will certainly, in accordance with wisdom
and justice reveal to you all that is most necessary. The /
“visible objects of veneration, which I have called holy ~
things, are included within a particular boundary, are not
mingled with anything, or disturbed by anything; only"
at certain times of the year, the pupils, according to the
stages of their education, are admitted to them, in order
that they may be instructed historically and through
their senses ; for in this way they carry off with them an
impression, enough for them to feed upon for a long time
in the exercise of their duty.”

Wilhelm now stood at the entrance of a forest-valley,
enclosed by lofty walls; on a given signal a small door
was opened, and a serious, respectable-looking man re-
ceived our friend. He found himself within a large
and beautifully verdant enclosure, shaded with trees and
bushes of every kind, so thnt he could scarcely see some
stately walls and fine buildings through the dense and
lofty natural growth ; his fiiendly reception by the Three,
who came up by-and-bye, ultimately concluded in a con-
versation, to which each contributed something of his
own, but the substance of which we shall put together in
brief. :

“Since you have entrusted your son to us,” they said,
“it is our duty to let you see more deeply into our
methods of proceeding. You have seen many external
things, that do not carry their significance with them
all at once; which of these do you most wish to have
explained ?”

«I have remarked certain seemly yet strange gestures
and obeisances, the significance of which I should like to
learn ; with you no doubt what is external has reference
to what is within, and wice versd; let me understand this
relation.”

« Well-bred and healthy children possess a great deal ;
 

154 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

Nature has given to each everything that he needs for
time and continuance: our duty is to develope this; often

|

3

it is better developed by itself. But one thing no one

brings into the world, and yet it is that upon which
depends everything through which a man becomes a
man on every side. If you can find it out yourself, speak
out.”

Wilhelm bethought himself for a short time, and then
shook his head. After a suitable pause, they exclaimed:
“ Veneration !”

Wilhelm was startled.

« Veneration,” they repeated. “It is wanting in all,
and perhaps in yourself.” You have seen three kinds of
gestures, and we teach a threefold veneration, which when
combined to form a whole, only then attains to its
highest power and effect. The first is veneration for that
which is above us. That gesture, the arms folded on the
breast, a cheerful glance towards the sky, that is precisely
what we prescribe to our untutored children, at the same
time requiring witness of them that there is a God up
above, who reflects and reveals Himself in our parents,
tutors and superiors. The second, veneration for that
which is below us. The hands folded on the back as if
tied together, the lowered, smiling glance, bespeak that
we have to regard the earth well and cheerfully; it gives
us an opportunity to maintain ourselves; it affords un-
speakable joys; but it brings disproportionate sufferings.
If one hurts oneself bodily, whether faultily or innocently ;
if others hurt one, intentionally or accidentally ; if earthly
chance does one any harm, let that be well thought of, for
such danger accompanies us all our life long. But from
this condition we deliver our pupil as soon as possible,
directly we are convinced that the teachings of this stage
have made a sufficient impression upon him ; but then we
bid him be a man, look to his companions, and guide
himself with reference to them. Now he stands erect and
bold, yet not selfishly isolated ; only in a union with his
equals does he present a front towards the world. We
are unable to add anything further.”

“1 see it all,” replied Wilhelm ; it is probably on this
account that the multitude is so inured to vice, because it
Cuar. 1] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 155

only takes pleasure in the element of ill-will and evil
speech ; he who indulges in this, soon becomes indifferent
to God, contemptuous towards the world, and a hater of
“his fellows; but the true, genuine, indispensable feeling
"of self-respect is ruined in conceit and presumption.”

“ Allow me nevertheless,” Wilhelm went on, *to make
one objection: Has it not ever been held that the fear
evinced by savage nations in the presence of mighty
natural phenomena, and other inexplicable foreboding
events, is the germ from which a higher feeling, a purer
‘disposition, should gradually be developed ?”

To this the other replied: “Fear, no doubt, is consonant
with nature, but not reverence; people fear a known or
unknown powerful being: the strong one tries to grapple
with it, the weak to avoid it; both wish to get rid of it,
and feel happy when in a short space they have conquered
it, when their nature in some measure has regained its
freedom and independence. The natural man repeats this
operation a million times during his life; from fear he
strives after liberty, from liberty he is driven back into
fear, and does not advance one step further. To fear is
easy, but unpleasant; to entertain reverence is difficult
but pleasing. Man determines himself unwillingly to
reverence, or rather never determines himself to it; it is a
loftier sense which must be imparted to his nature, and
which is self-developed only in the most exceptionally
gifted ones, whom therefore from all time we have re-
garded as saints, as gods. In this consists the dignity,
in this the function of all genuine religions, of which also
there exist only three, according to the objects towards
which they direct their worship.”

The men paused, Wilhelm remained silent for a while
in thought ; as he did not feel himself equal to pointing
these strange words, he begged the worthy men to con-
tinue their remarks, which too they at once consented
to do.

“No religion,” they said, “which is based on fear,
is esteemed among us. With the reverence which a
man allows himself to entertain, whilst he accords
honour, he may preserve his own honour; he is not at
discord with himself, as in the other case. The religion

\

nme ————— 5
156 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

which rests on reverence for that which is above us, we
call the ethnical one; it is the religion of nations, and the
first happy redemption from a base fear; all so-called
‘heathen religions are of this kind, let them have what
names they will. The second religion, which is founded
on that reverence which we have for what is like ourselves,
we call the Philosophic; for the philosopher, who places
himself in the middle, must draw downward to himself all
that is higher, and upward to himself all that is lower, and
only in this central position does he deserve the name of
the sage. Now, whilst he penetrates his relations to his
fellows, and therefore to the whole of humanity, and his
relations to all other earthly surroundings, necessary or
accidental, in the cosmical sense he only lives in the
truth. But we must now speak of the third religion,
based on reverence for that which is below us; we call it
the Christian one, because this disposition of mind is
chiefly revealed in it; it is the last one which humanity
could and was bound to attain. Yet what was not de-
manded for it? not merely to leave earth below, and claim
a higher origin, but to recognize as divine even humility
and poverty, scorn and contempt, shame and misery,
suffering and death ; nay, to revere and make lovable even
sin and crime, not as hindrances but as furtherances of
holiness! Of this there are indeed found traces through-
out all time ; but a track is not a goal, and this having

~ once been reached, humanity cannot turn backwards; and
it may be maintained, that the Christian religion having
once appeared, can never disappear again; having once
been divinely embodied, cannot again be dissolved.”

« Which of these religions do you then profe-s more
particularly ?” said Wilhelm.

« All three,” answered the others, * for, in point of fact,
they together present the true religion ; from these three
reverences outsprings the highest reverence, reverence for
oneself, and the former again develope themselves from
the latter, so that man attains to the highest he is capable
of reaching, in order that he may consider himself the
best that God and nature have produced ; nay, that he may
be able to remain on this height without being drawn
through conceit or egoism into what is base.”
|

Cra. 1.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 157

“ Such a profession of faith, developed in such a manner,
does not estrange me,” replied Wilhelm ; “it agrees with

all that one learns here and there in life, only that the

very thing unites you, that severs the others.”

To this the others replied: «This confession is already
adhered to by a large part of the world, though un-
consciously.” i

| “How so, and where ?” asked Wilhelm.

“In the Creed!” exclaimed the others, loudly; for the

| first article is ethnical, and belongs to all nations: the-

{second is Christian, for those struggling against sufferings

and glorified in sufferings; the third finally teaches a

spiritual communion of saints, to wit, of those in the

‘highest degree good and wise: ought not therefore in

fairness the three divine Persons, under whose likeness

and name such convictions and promises are uttered, to
pass also for the highest Unity ?”

«I thank you,” replied the other, for having so clearly
and coherently explained this to me—to whom, as a full-
grown man, the three dispositions of mind are not new;
and when I recall, that you teach the children these high
truths, first through material symbols, then through a
certain symbolic analogy, and finally develope in them
the highest interpretation, I must needs highly approve
of it.”

“ Exactly so,” replied the former; ¢ but now you must
still learn something more, in order that you may be
convinced that your son is in the best hands. However,
let this matter rest for the morning hours; rest and
refresh yourself, so that, contented and humanly complete,
you may accompany us farther into the interior to-

 

’
158 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

CHAPTER II.

Lep by the hand of the eldest, our friend now entered
through a handsome portal into a room, or rather, eight-
sided hall, which was so richly adorned with pictures, that
it caused astonishment to the visitor. He easily understood
that all that he saw must have an important meaning,
though he himself was not at once able to guess it. He
was just on the point of asking his conductor about it,
when the latter invited him to enter a side gallery, which,
open on one side, surrounded a spacious, richly planted
flower-garden. The wall, however, attracted the eye more
than this brilliant adornment of nature, for it was painted
throughout its whole length, and the visitor could not
walk far along it, without remarking that the sacred
books of the Israelites had furnished the subjects of these
nT i

«Jt is here,” said the eldest, “that we teach that
religion, which for the sake of brevity, I have called the
ethnical. Its internal substance is found in the history
of the world, as its external envelope in the events
themselves. In the re-occurrence of the destinies of entire
nations it is, properly speaking, grasped.”

«“ You have, I see,” said Wilhelm, ¢ conferred the hononr
on the Israelitish people, and made its history the founda-
tion of this exposition, or rather you have made it the
principal subject of the same.”

« Just as you see,” rejoined the old man, «for you will
observe that in the plinths and friezes are represented
not so much synchronistic as symphronistic* actions and
events, whilst among all nations there occur traditions of
similar and equal import. Thus, while in the principal
field, Abraham is visited by his gods in the form of hand-

* 4.e. of similar signification.
| Car. II] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 159

some youths, you see up there in the frieze, Apollo
among the shepherds of Admetus; from which we may
‘learn that when the gods appear to men, they mostly go
about unrecognized among them.”

The two observers went farther. Wilhelm found for the
most part well-known subjects, yet represented in a more
lively and significant manner than he had been accustomed
to see them before. In reference to a few matters he asked

for some explanation, in doing which he could not refrain
from inquiring again, why they had selected the Israelitish
history before all others ?

Hereupon the eldest answered: “ Among all heathen
religions (for such is the Israelitish also) this one has great
advantages, of which I shall mention only a few. Before
the ethnic tribunal, before the tribunal of the God of nations,
it is not the question, whether it is the best or the most
excellent nation, but only whether it still exists, whether
it has maintained itself. The Israelitish nation has never
been worth much, asits leaders, judges, rulers and prophets
have a thousand times thrown in its teeth; it possesses
few virtues, and most of the faults of other nations; but
in independence, endurance, courage, and if all that were
no longer of account, in toughness, it cannot find its equal.
1t is the most tenacious people on the face of the earth! |
It is, it has been, and will be to glorify the name of Jehovah
through all time. We have, therefore, set it up as a |
pattern, as a masterpiece, to which the others only serve /
as a frame.” ,

“It is not becoming in me to argue with you,” replied
Wilhelm, “since you are in a position to teach me.
Proceed, therefore, to explain to me the other advantages
of this nation, or rather of its history, of its religion.”

“ One principal advantage,” answered the other, ‘ consists
in the excellent collection of its sacred books. They are
combined so happily, that from the most heterogeneous
elements there results a deceptive unity. They are com-
plete enough to satisfy, fragmentary enough to stimulate
interest; sufficiently barbaric to excite challenge, suffi-
ciently tender to soothe; and how many other opposing
qualities might we extol in these books, in this Book!” |

The series of the principal pictures, as well as the
160 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

connexion of the smaller ones which accompanied them
above and below, gave the guest so much to think of, that.

he scarcely listened to the explanatory remarks by which

his companion seemed rather to divert his attention from,

than to fix it on the subjects.

In the meanwhile the other took occasion to say: «I
must here mention one advantage of the Israelitish re-
ligion : that it does not embody its God in any given form,
and therefore leaves us at liberty to give him a worthy
human figure; also, on the other hand, to depict base
idolatry by the forms of beasts and monsters.”

Our friend, moreover, in a short stroll through these

halls, had again called to mind the history of the world:

there was something new to him in regard to the circum-
stance. Thus, through the juxtaposition of the pictures,
through the reflexions of his companion, fresh ideas had
dawned upon his mind; and he was glad that Felix by

means of a visible representation of such merit should

appropriate to himself for his whole life long, as vividly
' as if they had actually happened in his own time, those
grand, significant, and inimitable events. He looked at
these pictures at last only with the eyes of the child, and
in this aspect he felt perfectly satisfied with them. And
so strolling on they reached those sad, confused periods,
and finally the destruction of the City and the Temple,
the murder, banishment and slavery of whole multitudes
of this obstinate nation. Its subsequent destinies were
represented by discreet allegory, since a historic and real
representation of them lies beyond the limits of the
noble art.

Here the gallery, through which they had walked,
terminated abruptly, and Wilhelm wondered at finding
himself already at the end.

«TI find,” he said to his guide, “ an omission in this his-
torical walk. You have destroyed the Temple of Jerusalem,
and scattered the nation, without introducing the Divine
Man, who shortly before that very time taught in it, and
to whom, too, shortly before they would give no hearing.”

“To do this, as you demand, would have been a mistake.
The life of that Divine Man, to whom you allude, stands
if! no connexion with the world-history of his time. His

|
Crap. II] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 161

was a private life, his doctrine a doctrine for individuals.
What publicly concerns the masses of the people and its
members belongs to the history of the world, to the religion
of the world, which we regard as the first. What inwardly
concerns the individual belongs to the second religion, to
the religion of the wise; such was the one that Christ
taught and practised as long as he went about on earth.
Wherefore the external ends here, and I now open to you
the internal.”

A door opened, and they entered a similar gallery,
where Wilhelm at qnee recognised the pictures of the
second oly writings. They seemed to be by a different
hand from the first: everything was gentler; forms, move-
ments, surroundings, licht and colouring.

“You see here,” said his companion, after they had
walked past a part of the pictures, “neither deeds nor
events, but miracles and parables. Here is a new world ;
a new exterior, different from the former, and an interior,
which in that is entirely lacking. By miracles and
parables a new world is opened. The former make the
common extraordinary, the latter make the extraordinary
common.”

« Have the kindness,” replied Wilhelm, “to explain me
these few words more circumstantially, for I do not feel
equal to doing it myself.”

“You possess a natural mind,” replied the other,
“although a deep one. Examples will open it most
readily. Nothing is more common or ordinary than eating
and drinking; on the other hand, it is extraordinary to
ennoble a beverage, or to multiply a meal, so that it may
suffice for a countless number. Nothing is commoner than
illness and bodily infirmity ; but to cure, to alleviate these
by spiritual or spiritual-seeming means, is extraordinary :
and just in this consists the marvel of the miracle—that
the common and extraordinary, the possible and the im-
possible, become one. In the similitude, in the parable,
the reverse is the case: here you have mind, insight, the
idea of the sublime, the extraordinary, the unattainable.
When this is embodied in a common, ordinary, intelligible
image, so that it confronts us as living, present and real,
so that we can appropriate, seize, retain, and converse

NM

Cr ———
: he

162 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

with it as with one of our own like: that indeed becomes
a second species of miracle, which is fairly associated with
the first kind, nay, perhaps, is to be preferred to it. Here
the living doctrine itself is pronounced, the doctrine that
arouses no dispute. It is no opinion as to what is right
or wrong ; it is indisputably right or wrong itself.”

This part of the gallery was shorter, or rather it was
only the fourth part of the enclosure of the inner court-
yard. But while one cared only to pass along the first,
here one was glad to linger, here one liked to walk to
and fro. The subjects were not so striking nor so mani-
fold, but so much the more did they invite inquiry into
their deep and quiet meaning ; moreover the two wanderers
turned at the end of the corridor, whilst Wilhelm ex-
pressed a fear that in fact only the last supper, the last
parting of the Master from his disciples, was reached. He
asked for the remaining part of the story.

“In all teaching,” replied the elder ome, “in all tra-
dition, we are very willing to set apart only what it is
possible to set apart, for only thereby can the notion of
what is significant be developed in youth. Life otherwise
mingles and mixes everything together; and thus we have
here the life of that excellent Man completely separated
from its end. During life he appears as a true philosopher
—do not be scandalized at this expression—as a sage, in
the highest sense. He stands firmly to his point; he pur-
sues his own path unflinchingly, and whilst he draws up
to himself what is inferior, whilst he allows the ignorant,
the poor, the sick, a share in his wisdom, wealth, and
power, and thereby seems to step down to their level;
still, on the other hand, he does not deny his divine
origin ; he dares to make himself equal to God, nay, to
declare himself God. In this manner, from his youth up,
he astonishes those who surround him, gains one part of
them over to himself, arouses the other against himself,
and shows all those to whom it is a question of a certain
sublimity in doctrine and life, what they will have to
expect from the world. And thus his life’s journey for
the noble part of humanity is more instructive and fruitful
than his death; for to the one test every one is called, but
to the other only a few. And in order that we may pass
Cuap. IL] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 163

over all that follows from this, only look at the touch-
ing scene of the last supper! Here the sage, as always
happens, leaves his followers behind, quite orphaned,
so to say, and whilst he is taking thought for the
good ones, he is at the same time feeding with them
a traitor, who will bring him and the better omnes to
destruction.

With these words the elder opened a door, and Wilhelm
was astonished to find himself again in the first hall of
entrance. In the mean time, they had made, as he could
~ easily see, the entire circuit of the courtyard.

«1 was hoping,” said Wilhelm, ¢ that you would con-
duct me to the end, whilst you are taking me back to the
beginning.” This time I can show you nothing more,”
said the elder, “ we do not let our pupils see more, we do
not explain to them more than what you have so far
passed through: the external and generally mundane
may be imparted to each from his youth up; the internal
and specially spritual and mental, only to those who are
growing up to a certain degree of thoughtfulness; and
the rest, which can be disclosed only once a year, only to
those of whom we are taking leave. That last form of
religion, which arises from respect for what is below us,
that reverence for what is repugnant, hateful, and apt
to be shunned, we impart to each only by way of outfit
for the world, in order that he may know where he can
find the like, if need of such should stir within him.
I invite you to return after the lapse of a year to attend
our general festival, and to see how far your son has
progressed ; at which time too you shall be initiated into
the holy estate of sorrow.”

« Allow me one question,” replied Wilhelm ; “have you
then, besides representing the life of this Divine Man as
a pattern of teaching and imitation, also exalted his
sufferings, his death, as a model of sublime endurance ?”

« By all means,” said the elder. “We make no secret
of this; but we draw a veil over these sufferings, just
because we honour them so highly. We hold it for
criminal audacity to expose that scaffold of agony, and
the Saint suffering thereupon, to the gaze of the sun, that
hid its face when a reckless world obtruded this sight

mM 2
1C4 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II

upon it; to play, to trifle with these deep mysteries, in
which the divine depth of suffering lies hidden; to
decorate them, and not to rest until the most holy seems
commonplace and vulgar. Thus much may suffice for
this time to set you at rest respecting your boy, and con-
vince you thoroughly that you will find him again, in one
way or other, more or less developed, yet in a desirable

manner, and at all events not confused, wavering or

unsteady.” :

Wilhelm lingered, looking over the pictures in the
vestibule, wishing to have their meaning explained.

«This too,” said the elder, “we shall continue to
owe you until the year is over. We do not admit any
strangers to the instruction which we impart to the
children during the interval; but in due time come and
listen to what our best speakers think fit to say publicly
on these subjects.”

Soon after this conversation a knock was heard at the
small door. The inspector of yesterday presented himself;
he had led up Wilhelm’s horse. And thus our friend took
leave of the Three, who at parting recommended him to the
inspector in the following terms: “ He is now numbered
among the confidants, and what you have to answer to his
questions is known to you: for he surely still wishes to be
enlightened about many things that he has seen and heard
with us; the measure and purport are not unknown to
you.” Wilhelm had still in fact a few questions on his
mind, which also he expressed forthwith. Wherever they
rode by, the children ranged themselves as on the day
before, but to-day he saw, although rarely, a boy here
and there who did not salute the mmspector as he rode past,
did not look up from his work, and allowed him to pass
by without notice. Wilhelm now inquired the cause of
this, and what this exception meant.

The other replied thereto: «It is in fact® exceedingly
significant, for it is the severest punishment that we
inflict upon our pupils; they are declared unworthy of
showing reverence, and compelled to seem rude and
uncultured ; but they do all that is possible to rescue
themselves from this position, and apply themselves as
quickly as possible to every duty. Should, however, any

   
 
Cuar. II] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 165

hardened youngster show no readiness to recant, then he
is sent back to his parents with a short but conclusive
report. He who does not learn to adapt himself to the
laws, must leave the region where they prevail.

Another sight excited to-day as yesterday the curiosity
of the traveller; it was the variety of colour and shape in
the clothes of the pupils. In this there seemed to prevail
no graduated arrangement, for some who saluted differently
were dressed in uniform style, whilst those who had the
same way of greeting were clad differently. Wilhelm
asked for the cause of this seeming contradiction.

“It is explained thus,” replied the other; ‘namely,
that it is a means of finding out the peculiar disposition
of each boy. With strictness and method in other things,
in this respect we allow a certain degree of freedom to
prevail. Within the scope of our stores of cloths and
trimmings, the pupils are allowed to choose any favourite
colour, and also within moderate limits to select both
shape and cut; this we scrupulously observe, for by the
colour you may find out people’s bent of mind, and by
the cut, the style of life. Yet there is one special pecu-
liarity of human nature which makes a more accurate
judgment to some extent difficult; this is the spirit of
imitation—the tendency to associate. It is very seldom
that a pupil lights on anything that has not occurred
before : for the most part they choose something familiar,
what they see just before them. Still, this consideration
does not remain unprofitable to us; by means of such
external signs, they ally themselves to this or that party,
join in here or there, and thus more general dispositions
distinguish themselves; we learn to where each inclines,
and to what example he assimilates himself. Now, cases
have been seen, in which the dispositions inclined towards
the general, in which one fashion would extend itself to
all, and every peculiarity tend towards losing itself in
the totality. In a gentle way we try to put a stop

to a tendency of this kind, we allow our stores to run ~~

short ; one or other kind of stuff or ornament is no more
to be had. We substitute something new, something
attractive ; through light colours, and short close cut, we
attract the cheerful ones; by sombre shades and comfurt-
166 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor II

able, ample suits, the thoughtful ones, and thus gradually
establish a balance. For we are altogether opposed to
uniform ; it hides the character, and, more than any
other disguise, conceals the peculiarities of the children
from the sight of their superiors.”

With such and other conversation, Wilhelm arrived
at the frontier of the district, and precisely at the point
where the traveller, according to his old friend’s direction,
ought to leave it, in order to pursue his own private
ends.

On parting, the inspector first of all observed, that
Wilhelm might now wait until the grand festival for all
their sympathizers in various ways was annonnced. To
this all the parents would be invited, and able pupils be
dismissed to the chances of free life. After that, he was
informed, he might at his leisure enter the other districts,
where in accordance with peculiar principles, special
instruction amidst the most perfect surroundings, was
imparted and practised.

ai
NA ——

(107)

CHAPTER IIL

To flatter the taste of the worthy public, which for some
time has derived pleasure in being entertained piece-meal,
we had at first thought of presenting the following story
in several sections. Yet, considered from the point of
view of ideas, feelings and events, its internal structure
required a continuous treatment. May it attain its aim,
and at the same time may it in the end become clear
how the personages of this seemingly isolated episode,
have been most intimately bound up with those whom we
already know and love.

Tae MaN or FIFTY.

The major had just ridden into the manor-house, and
his niece Hilaria was already standing outside on the
staircase that led up to the castle, ready to receive him.
He scarcely recognized her, for by this time she had grown
taller and more beautiful. She rushed towards him; he
pressed her to his breast with the feelings of a father,
and she hurried upstairs to her mother.

To the baroness his sister he was equally welcome,
and when Hilaria went quickly away to prepare breakfast,
the major cheerfully observed :

«This time I can be brief, and say that our business
is done. Our brother the marshal sees pretty clearly
that he cannot get on with either tenants or superinten-
dents. He makes over the estates, in his lifetime, to
us and to our children. The annual income that he
stipulates for himself is heavy, it is true; but we can
well afford to give it to him; we still gain a good deal
for the present, and in the future, all. The new arrange-
ment will soon be in order. Though every moment I
163 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

expect my retirement, I still see before me an active life,
that may be of decided advantage to us and ours. We
shall quietly look on, whilst our children grow up, and
it depends upon us, upon them, to hasten their union.”

“That would be all very well,” said the baroness, “if
only I had not to reveal you a secret, of which I myself
have only lately become aware. Hilaria’s heart is no
longer free; from that quarter your son has little or
nothing to hope.”
_ “What do you say?” exclaimed the major; “is it

possible! Whilst we are giving ourselves every possible
trouble to manage with economy, does inclination play
us such a trick? Tell me, my dear, tell me quickly who
is it that could captivate Hilaria's heart; or is it already
as bad as that? Is it not perhaps a transient impression,
that one may hope to extinguish again?”

“Yon must first think and guess awhile,” replied the
baroness, thereby increasing his impatience. This had
already reached its climax, when Hilaria, entering to-
gether with the servants, who were bringing the break-
fast, rendered an immediate solution of the riddie im-
possible.

The major himself fancied that he now looked upon
the beautiful child with other eyes than shortly before.
He almost felt jealous of the fortunate one, whose image
could impress itself upon so beautiful a soul. He could
not enjoy his breakfast, and he paid no attention to the
fact that everything had been arranged precisely as he
liked it best, and as he had formerly been used to wish
and require it.

Amidst this silence and reserve, Hilaria herself almost
lost her cheerfulness. The baroness felt embarrassed, and
drew her daughter towards the piano, but her animated
playing, full of feeling, could scarcely win a little applause
from the major. He was anxious to see the beautiful child
and the breakfast depart, the sooner the better, and the
baroness had to make up her mind to break off, and propo-e
to her brother a walk in the garden.

They were scarcely alone, when the major urgently
repeated his former question; upon which his sister after
a pause, replied, laughing :

 
|
1

Crap. 1I1.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 169

“If you wish to find the fortunate man she loves, you
‘need not go so far, he is quite close: it is you she loves.”
The major stood thunderstruck ; then he exclaimed :
“It would be a very unseasonable jest, if you wished
' to persuade me of what in real earnest would make me
no less embarrassed than unhappy. For although I need
' time, to recover from my astonishment, yet I foresee at
‘a glance how much our relations must be disturbed by
such an unexpected circumstance. The only thing that
consoles me, is the conviction that inclinations of this
kind are only apparent, that self-deception lurks in the
background, and that a genuinely good soul will often

|
|
:
|

recover at once from mistakes of this kind of its own
accord, or at least with a little assistance from sensible
persons.”

“T am not of this opinion,” said the baroness; ¢ for, to
judge by all the symptoms, it is a very serious sentiment
by which Hilaria is penetrated.

“ Anything so unnatural I should not have attributed
to her natural character,” replied the major.

“It is not so unnatural;” said his sister; “in my
own youth I recollect a passion even for an older man
than you are. You are fifty years old ; that at all events is
by no means too much for a German, although perhaps
other more lively nations grow old earlier.”

“ But how will you prove your surmise?’ said the
major.

“It is no surmise, it is a certainty. The details you
shall learn by-and-bye.”

Hilaria joined them, and the major against his will felt
changed again. Her presence seemed to him still more
amiable and dearer than before; her behaviour seemed to
him more affectionate, and he already began to give
credence to his sister’s words. The sensation was in the
highest degree agreeable to him, although he would
neither acknowledge nor indulge it. Hilaria was indeed
very amiable, whilst in her demeanour shyness towards a
lover and the easy familiarity towards an uncle were most
intimately combined ; for she really loved him, and with
her whole heart. The garden was in its full spring glory,
and the major, whilst he saw so many old trees clothing
   
   
  
  

170 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL 1

themselves with leaves, was fain to believe in the return §
of his own spring-time. And who would (not have been
tempted to do so in the presence of the most amiable of
girls.

In this manner the day was spent together ; all domestic @
incidents passed off in the greatest harmony; in the 3
evening after dinner Hilaria again sat down to the piano.
The major listened with other ears than in the morning; :
one melody was entwined with another, one song connected £
itself with the next, and midnight scarcely availed to ¢
break up the little party. )
When the major reached his room, he found everything
arranged in accordance with his old accustomed con- =
venience ; even certain engravings, over which he had |
been wont to linger, had been brought from other rooms
and hung up here; and now that he had once begun to ¢
notice, he saw himself attended to and flattered in every |
single little detail.

This time he required only a few hours’ sleep ; his 4
vital energies were awake early. But now he suddenly i
perceived that a new order of things would entail a good !
deal of inconvenience. To his old groom, who also fulfilled |
the duties of footmen and valet, he had never spoken an i
angry word for many years; for everything had gone on i
in its usual way with the strictest method: the horses ¢
were attended to, and the clothes ready brushed at the ¢
proper hour, but his master had risen sooner, and nothing 3
was ready.

Another circumstance combined with this to increase
the impatience and a sort of bad-humour on the part of the :
major. At other times everything had been correct with
himself and with his servant; but now when he stepped |
before the looking-glass, he did not find himself as he wished |
to be. He could not deny a few grey hairs, and a few
wrinkles also seemed to have put in an appearance. He f
rubbed and powdered more than usual, and yet had at last |
to leave things as they were. Neither was he satisfied |
with his dress, or with its plainness. There were always #
a few threads still on his coat, and a little dust on his §
boots. The old servant did not know what to say, and |
was astonished at seeing so transformed a master before him.

1
4 Crap. 111.) THE MAN OF FIFTY. 171

In spite of all these obstacles, the major was early
‘enough in the garden. Hilaria, whom he hoped to find
i there, he actually did find. She brought a nosegay for him,
rand he had not the courage, as at other times, to kiss her,
sand to press her to his heart. He found himself in the
i pleasantest embarrassment in the world, and abandoned
himself to his feelings, without thinking whither they
might lead him. :

The baroness also was not slow in putting in an

appearance, and as she showed her brother a note that a
. messenger had just brought her, she exclaimed : You can-
inot guess whom this letter is to announce !”
“Then only tell me quickly !” replied the major; and
‘he was informed that an old theatrical friend happened to
be travelling at no great distance from the manor, and
‘thought of looking in for a moment.

«I am curious to see him again,” said the major ; “he is
' no longer a boy, and yet I hear that he still continues to
| play youthful parts.”
~~ “He must be ten years older than you,” replied the
 baroness.

“ At the very least,” replied the major, «so far as I can
recollect.”

It was not long before a cheerful, well-built, pleasant man

made his appearance. Both were astonished for a moment
‘as they looked at each other again. But very soon the
‘friends became familiar, and reminiscences of all sorts
animated the conversation. From this they passed #o
| stories, to questions, and to giving accounts of them-
‘selves; they made themselves mutually acquainted with
their present positions, and they soon felt as if they had
never been separated.

Secret accounts tell us that this man in early life, as a
very handsome and agreeable youth, had had the fortune
or misfortune to please a lady of rank ; that he had thereby
fallen into great difficulties and danger, out of which the
major had fortunately rescued him, at the very moment
when a most sad fate was threatening him. He remained
eternally grateful to both brother and sister; for the latter,
by a timely warning, had given an opportunity of exer-
cising prudence. A short time before dinner the men
172 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IL
were left alone. Not without admiration, nay, with a

certain amount of astonishment, the major had observed
the outward deportment of his old friend, in general and
in detail. He did not seem to be changed in the least,

and it was no wonder that he could still continue to appear

as a youthful lover on the stage.

“You are looking at me more closely than is fair,” he
at last said to the major; “I very much fear that you
find the difference compared with past times only too

reat.”
oy By no means,” replied the major; “on the contrary, I
am full of wonder at finding your looks fresher and more
youthful than my own; although I know that you were
already a grown-up man when I assisted you in certain
difficulties with the audacity of a foolhardy fledgling.” }

«It is your own fault,” replied the other, “it is the
fault of all like you; and although you ought not to be
reproached for it, still you are to blame. You only think
about what is necessary; you want to be, and not to seem.
That is right enough, so long as one is something. But |
when at last the Being begins to take leave of the Seeming,
and the Seeming is still more transient than the Being,
then everyone finds out that he would not have done badly
if he had not entirely neglected the external in favour of
the internal.”

“You are right,” replied the major, and could hardly
refrain from a sigh. :

“ Perhaps not quite right,” answered the old youth, « for
indeed in my trade it would be absolutely inexcusable
if one did not bolster up the exterior as long as is simply
possible. But you people have occasion to look at other
things that are more important and lasting.”

“And yet there are occasions,” said the major, « when
one feels inwardly fresh, and would be only too glad to
freshen up one’s exterior too.”

As the guest could not divine the major’s real frame of
mind, he took this utterance in a military sense, and
expatiated long upon the point, how important the ex-
terior was to military men, and how an officer, who had
to expend so much care upon his dress, might pay some
attention to his skin and hair as well.

 
 

4Omap. IIL] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 173

~ “For example, it is undeniable,” he continued, “ that
your temples are already grey, that wrinkles contract
themselves here and there, and that your crown is threat-
ening to become bald. Only look at an old fellow like
ime! See how I have preserved myself, and all without
any conjuring, and with far less trouble or care than
‘one expends daily in injuring, or at least in wearying
oneself.”

The major found too much for his own purposes in this
‘accidental conversation to break it off so soon; still he
went gently, and even, in dealing with an old acquaint-
‘ance, cautiously to work.

« Unfortunately I have now got behindhand,” he ex-
‘claimed, “and it cannot be retrieved ; I must now put up
‘with it, and you will not think worse of me on account
fof it.”
| «It is never too late,” replied the other; “if you
serious gentlemen were not so obstinate and stiff-necked,
immediately declaring anyone who attends to his own
(exterior vain, and thereby marring for yourselves the
enjoyment of being in pleasant company and pleasing
others yourselves.”

«If it is not magic,” laughingly said the major, “by
means of which you keep yourselves young, it is never-
| theless a secret; or there are at least arcana,’ such as are
often extolled in the papers, but from which you know how
to choose the best.”

Whether you speak in jest or in earnest,” replied his

friend, “you have hit it. Among the many things that

have continually been tried to give a kind of nourishment

| to the exterior, which often falls off much sooner than the
interior, there are to be found really invaluable specifics,
simple as well as compound, which have been imparted to
me by fellow-artists, or handed over for cash or in some
casual way, and tested by myself. I hold and abide by
these, without on that account giving up my further
researches. Thus much I may tell you, and I do not
exaggerate: I carry about with me a dressing-case beyond
all price, a casket, the effects of which I should like

to try upon yourself, if we remain only a fortnight
together.”
 
 

174 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

The thought that something of this kind was possible,
and that this possibility had accidentally been brought
within his reach just at the right moment, cheered up the
major to such a degree, that he already looked really
fresher and happier, and enlivened by the hope of bringing
his head and face into harmony with his heart, excited by
the restless desire of soon learning to know these specifics
more intimately, he seemed at dinner quite a different
man, met with confidence Hilaria’s graceful attentions,
and looked on her with a certain trust, which in the
morning had been still very foreign to him.

Now, inasmuch as the theatrical friend had managed, by
all sorts of reminiscences, stories, and happy ideas, to keep
alive and increase the good-humour once called forth, so
much the more was the major troubled, when immediately
after dinner he threatened to go away and pursue his
journey. He sought by every means to facilitate the
detention of his friend, at least for the night, expressly
promising additional horses and relays early on the mor-
row. Enough, the healing toilet-case was not to depart
from the house before he had been more particularly
informed as to its contents and use.

The major saw well enough that there was now no
time to be lost, and therefore immediately after dinner he
sought to speak to his old familiar friend alone. As he
had not the courage to go straight to the point, he alluded
to it distantly, again taking up their former conversation,
and affirming that, as for his own person, he would will-
ingly bestow more care upon the exterior, if only people
would not immediately stigmatize as vain any one in whom
they discovered an endeavour of this kind, and thereby with-
draw from him, in respect to moral esteem, as much as they
felt bound to allow him in respect to what was physical.

«Do not make me angry with speeches of this kind,”
replied his friend, “for these are expressions to which
society has accustomed itself without thinking, or, to
put it more severely, by which it expresses the un-
kindness and ill-will of its nature. When you come to
consider it closely, what is that which is so often stigma-
tized as vanity? Every man ought to feel pleasure in
himself, and happy is he who does so. Yet, if he does,
Jr

 

: Cuar. IIL] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 17!

{ how can he refrain from betraying this pleasant feeling ?
| How, in the midst of existence, can he conceal that he feels
fa pleasure in existence? If good society—for only of
2 such is the question now—should find these utterances
| blamable, only when they become too lively, when the
| joy of a man’s pleasure in himself and in his being
| prevents others from feeling pleasure in themselves,
; and from displaying it,—even then there would be nothing
| in it to remember; and the reproach has probably arisen
| in the first place from this excess. Yet, what is the good
| of a strange prohibitive severity against what is unavoid-
able? Why shall we not find an expression admissible and
| endurable which we, more or less, allow ourselves from
| time to time, nay, without which no good society could
exist; for the pleasure in ourselves, the desire of communi-
cating this individual feeling to others, makes us pleasant,
| the sense of our own charm makes us charming. Would
to God that all men were vain! yet at the same time with
consciousness, with moderation, and in the right sense;
then we in the world of culture would be the happiest of
people. Women, it is said, are vain from the beginning ;
yet it becomes them, and they please us all the more.
How can a young man form himself who is not vain? An
empty, hollow nature will at least know how to give itself
an outward show, and the able man will soon form himself
from the outward to the inward. As for myself, I have
reason on this score to consider myself the happiest of
men, because my trade justifies me in being vain, and
because the more I am so, the greater pleasure I give
people. I am praised where another is blamed, and it
is just in this path that I have the right and the good
fortune to delight and charm the public at an age at
which others are compelled to withdraw from the stage,
or only linger upon it with disgrace.”

The major was not pleased to hear the tendency of
these observations. The little word vanity, when he used
it, had only been meant to serve as a medium by which to
bring his wish before his friend in a discreet manner;
now he feared that in a lengthened conversation he would
gee his end still further set aside, and he therefore hastened

directly to the point.

 
176 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

« For myself,” he said, “I shonld not be at all disin-

clined to swear fealty to your standard, since you do not

think it too late, and believe that I could in some measure
make up for lost time. Reveal to me something about
your tinctures, pomades, and balsams, and I will make an
attempt.”

« Revelations,” said the other, “are more difficult than
one thinks. In this case, for instance, it is not only the
question whether I pour out for you something from my
bottles, or leave you a half of the best ingredients of my
dressing-case ; the greatest difficulty is the application.
One cannot straichtway make what is handed to us one’s
own; how this or that may serve, under what circum-
stances, in what order the things are to be used, demands
practice and reflexion; nay, even these will hardly bear
fruit, if one has not an inborn talent for the subject in
question.”

“ Now,” replied the major, “it seems to me you want to
back out of it again. You are making difficulties in order
to save the credit of your rather fabulous statements. You
have no inclination to give me a pretext, an opportunity
of putting your words to the test of fact.”

“ By these sarcasms, my friend,” replied the other,
“you would never induce me to acquiesce in your request
if I did not myself harbour such kind intentions towards
you, insomuch that as I in fact made you the offer in the first
place. At the same time bear in mind, my friend, that
man possesses a quite peculiar desire of making proselytes,
of bringing what he values in himself into demonstration
beyond himself, in others; in letting them enjoy what he
himself enjoys, in finding and reflecting himself again in
them. In truth, if this too is egoism, it is at all events
of the most amiable and praiseworthy sort, such as
makes us human, and keeps us human. From this too,
irrespective of the friendship I entertain for you, I derive
the pleasure of making a pupil of you in the art of reju-
venation. But, as one must expect from the master, that
he should make no bunglers, I am at a loss as to how to set
to work. I have already said that neither ccsmetics nor
any prescription is sufficient; the application cannot be
taught in a general way. For love of you, and the desire

 
Caap, IIL] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 177

of propagating my doctrine, I am prepared for any sacrifice.
The greatest I can make for the moment I will at once
offer you. I will leave you here my servant, a kind of
valet and jack-of-all-trades, who, although he may not
know how to prepare everything, or be initiated into all
the secrets, yet understands very well the whole treatment,
and at the beginning will be of great use to you, until
you so work your way into the matter, that I may at
length be able also to reveal to you the higher secrets.”

“How!” exclaimed the major, “you have also stages
and degrees in your art of rejuvenation? You have secrets
too for the initiated.”

“To be sure,” replied the former. ¢ That would indeed
be a wretched art which allowed itself to be grasped at
once, the last results of which would be viewed at once by
him who enters for the first time.”

There was no great hesitation ; the valet was entrusted
to the major, who promised to treat him well. The baroness
had to furnish small boxes, pots, and glasses, she did not
know for what purpose; the partition took place; they
remained together in good spirits and witty mood till
far into the night. When the moon rose late the guest
departed, promising to return in a short time.

The major went somewhat tired to his room. He had
arisen early, had not spared himself during the day, and
hoped at last to get speedily to bed. But instead of one
servant he now found two. The old groom, according to
old style and custom, undressed him quickly; but now
the new one came forward, and bid him observe, that night
was just the proper time for applying beautifying and
rejuvenating remedies, in order that during a peaceful
slumber they might take effect so much the more surely.
So the major had to submit to having his head anointed,
his face rubbed, his eyebrows marked, and his lips touched,
besides which, several other ceremonies were required :
thus the nightcap was not to be put on immediately, but
before that a net, or at all events a fine leather cap, was
drawn over his head.

The major lay down in bed, with a kind of unpleasant
sensation, which, however, he had no time to make clear
to himself, inasmuch as he soon fell asleep. Yet if we

N
178 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boox IL

were to speak his mind, he felt himself somewhat akin to
a mummy, something between a sick man and an em-
balmed corpse. Only the sweet image of Hilaria, sur-
rounded by the brightest hopes, lulled him soon into a
refreshing sleep.

In the morning, at the appointed time, the groom was
at hand. Everything appertaining to the dress of the
master lay in its accustomed order on the chairs, and
the major was just on the point of leaving the bed, when
the new valet entered, and protested energetically against
such premature haste. One must be quiet, one must wait,
if the undertaking was to succeed, if from so much care
and painstaking enjoyment was to be reaped. The gentle-
man accordingly was informed that he would have to arise
in a short time, partake of a light breakfast, and then
enter a bath, which was already prepared. There was
no escape from this procedure; it must be carried ous, and
a few hours passed in these operations.

The major cut short the time of rest after the bath,
thinking to throw on his clothes quickly, for by nature
he was quick, and besides this he wished to meet Hilaria
soon; but here also the new valet intervened, and made
him understand that one must completely disaccustom
oneself from wishing to be done. All that one did must
be completed slowly and leisurely, but the time of
dressing especially must be regarded as a pleasant hour
of communion with one’s own self.

The valet’s mode of treatment was perfectly in harmony
with his words. But in return for all this, even the
major thought that he really was better dressed than he
had ever been before, when he stepped before the looking-
glass, and saw himself dressed up to the highest point.
Without much question, the valet had even given to the
uniform a modern cut, having employed the night in this
transformation. A rejuvenation, so quickly visible, im-
parted to the major a particularly cheerful disposition, so
that both inwardly and outwardly he felt refreshed, and
hurried to meet his friends with impatient longing.

He found his sister standing before their genealogical
tree, which she had had hung up, because on the preceding
evening there had been some talk amongst them about
Caar. II1.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 179

certain collateral relations, who, being some unmarried,
some living in distant lands, some quite lost sight of, gave
the brother and sister or their children more or less hope
of rich legacies. They conversed for some time about
. it, without mentioning the circumstance that hitherto all
their family anxieties and endeavours had centred only on
their children. Through Hilaria’s inclination, this whole
prospect had in fact been completely changed, and yet
neither the major nor his sister liked to think more about
the matter at this moment.
~The baroness went away, the major remained alone
before the laconic family-picture ; Hilaria came in to him,
leant childishly on his arm, looked at the pedigree, and
asked whom among all these he had known, and who were
still living ?

The major began his description of the eldest, whom he
now only vaguely remembered from the time of his youth.
Then he went on to describe the characters of various
fathers, the likeness or unlikeness of the children to
them, observed that the grandfather often reappeared in
his grandson, spoke generally about the influence of
women, who, marrying into the stock from strange families,
often change the character of the whole race. He praised
the virtue of many an ancestor and collateral relation,
and did not conceal their faults. He passed over in silence
those of whom they had had reason to feel ashamed. At
last he came to the latest generations. Among these were
now found his brother the Obermarschall, himself, and his
sister, and below them his son and Hilaria.

“These look one another straight enough in the face,”
said the major, and did not add what he had in his
mind.

After a pause, Hilaria modestly added, in a low voice
and almost with a sigh, “ And yet no one will blame one
who looks upwards.” At the same time she looked up
towards him with her two eyes, which expressed her
entire affection.

“Do I understand you aright ?” said the major, turning
round towards her.

“I can say nothing,” answered Hilaria, laughing, ¢ that
you do not already know. .

N 2
180 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II

“You make me the happiest man under the sun!”
exclaimed he, and fell at her feet. * Will you be
mine ?”

« For Heaven’s sake, arise! I am yours for ever.”

The baroness entered. Without being surprised, she was
startled. «If it should be a misfortune,” said the major,
“sister, the fault is yours; if it is good fortune, we shall
always have to thank you for it.”

The baroness, from her youth up, had loved her brother
in such manner, that she set him before all other men,
and perhaps the very inclination of Hilaria, if it had not
actually sprung from this partiality of her mother’s, had
certainly been nourished by it.

All three were henceforth united in ome love, and one
happiness, and so the happiest of hours were spent by them.
Yet at last, too, they became aware again of the world
around them, and this but seldom stands in harmony with
such sentiments.

Now, too, they thought again about the son. For him
Hilaria had been destined, as he knew very well. Directly
after the termination of the business with the Obermar-
schall, the major was to have visited his son in garrison,
to discuss everything with him, and bring these matters
to a happy termination. But now, through an unexpected
event, the whole arrangement was upset; the relations,
which atherwise hung together in a friendly way, seemed
henceforth to be in conflict, and it was difficult to foresee
what turn things would take, and what sort of harmony
would take possession of their minds.

In the mean time the major had to make up his mind
to visit his son, with whom he had already appointed a
meeting. Not without repugnance, not without a peculiar
foreboding, not without pain at having to leave Hilaria
for only a short time, he started, after a good deal of delay,"
and leaving groom and horses behind, he travelled with
his rejuvenating valet, whom he could no longer dispense
with, towards the city where his son was living.

The two greeted and embraced one another in the
heartiest manner after so long a separation. They had
much to say to one another, and yet did not immediately
express what each had most at heart. The son expatiated
Crap. IIL] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 181

upon his hopes of speedy promotion, in return for which
the father gave him exact information as to what had been
done and determined on between the elder members of
the family respecting their fortune in general, and their
landed property in particular.

The conversation was already beginning rather to drag,
when the son took courage, and said, laughing, to his
father, “You treat me very tenderly, father dear, and I
thank you for it. You tell me about possessions and for-
tune, and do not mention the condition under which, at
least partly, they will become mine ; you refrain from men-
tioning the name of Hilaria ; you wait for me to pronounce
it myself, that I should reveal my desire of being soon
united to the amiable child.”

The major, at these words of his son, found himself in
great embarrassment ; yet, as it was consonant partly with
his nature and partly with an old habit of his, to explore
the minds of those he had to deal with, he remained silent,
and glanced at his son with a doubtful smile.

“You do not guess, father, what I have to say,” con-
tinued the lieutenant, “and I only wish to speak it out
quickly once for all. I can rely upon your kindness,
which, amidst so much solicitude in my behalf, has surely
also thought about my true happiness. It will have to be
said some time, and so let it be said at once: Hilaria
cannot make me happy! I think of Hilaria as an amiable
relation, with whom I would wish to remain all my life
on the friendliest footing, but another has aroused my
passion, fettered my inclination. This inclination is irre-
sistible ; you do not want to make me unhappy.”

Only with difficulty did the major hide the delight that
would have spread over his countenance, and he asked his
son in a gently serious way, “ who the person was that
had been able to conquer him so entirely ?”

«You must see this person, father, for she is as unde-
seribable as she is incomprehensible. I only fear that you
will yourself be carried away by her, as everybody is who
comes near her. By Heaven! I shall live to see you
become the rival of your son.”

“Who is she, then?” asked the major. “If you are
not able to describe her personally, tell me at least
182 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IL.

about her circumstances; for these perhaps ought to be
mentioned first.”

«Well, father,” replied the son, “and yet these outward
circumstances too would be different in another woman,
and act differently upon another person. She is a young
widow, the heir of an old and wealthy husband, only
recently deceased ; independent, and in the highest degree
worthy of being so, surrounded by many friends, beloved
by just as many, and wooed by them all, yet, if I am not
greatly mistaken, attached to me with all her heart.”

As the father remained silent, and betrayed no sign of
disapproval, the son continued complacently to describe
the conduct of the pretty widow towards him, to extol in
detail that irresistible grace and those tender demonstra-
tions of favour, in which, however, the father could only
* recognise the easy civility of a universally adored woman,
who among many may perhaps prefer one, without alto-
gether deciding in favour of him especially. Under any
other circumstances, he would certainly have tried to call
the attention of a son, or only of a friend, to the self-
deception that would be likely to prevail in the matter;
but on this occasion his own interest was so great in the
fact that his son was not deceiving himself, and that the
widow was really in love with him, and should decide as
quickly as possible in his favour, that either he had no
misgiving, or repelled such a doubt from himself, or
perhaps only concealed it.

“ You put me in great embarrassment,” began the father,
after a short pause. “The whole agreement between the
remaining members of our family rests on the supposition
that you marry Hilaria. If she marries a stranger, then
the whole of the beautifully arranged concentration of a
handsome fortune will be demolished again, and you espe-
cially will not be playing your cards to the best advantage.
Still there would remain an expedient, which, however,
sounds a little strange, and by which you tco would not
gain much. I, old as I am, should have to marry Hilaria,
yet by doing this I should scarcely give you any great
pleasure.”

“The greatest in the world!” exclaimed the lieutenant,
“for who can feel any true affection, who can enjoy or

 

 
Cuap. IIL] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 183

hope for the happiness of love without wishing this highest
happiness for every friend, for every one who is worthy of
it? You are not old, father ; and is not Hilaria so amiable ?
And the mere passing thought of offering her your hand
bears witness to a youthful heart and fresh vigour. Let
us deliberate on and think out this idea, this plans upon
the spot. For I should only be really happy when I
knew that you were happy. I should only be really glad
when you yourself were so beautifully and richly repaid
for the care which you have bestowed upon my destiny.
Now, at last, I can take you with courage, confidence, and
a really open heart, to my fair one. You will approve of
my sentiment, because you yourself can feel. You will
place no obstacle in the way of your son’s happiness,
because you are going in the direction of your own.”

With these and other urgent words, the son gave his
father no opportunity for the many doubts he would have
insinuated, but hurried him off to the beautiful widow,
whom they found in a large, well-appointed house, sur-
rounded by a perhaps not numerous, but select party,
engaged in lively conversation. She was one of those
women from whom no man can escape. With incredible
tact she managed to make the major the hero of the
evening. The rest of the company seemed to be her own
family, the major alone the guest. She knew his circum-
stances quite.well, and yet she knew how to inquire about
them, as if her wish was to hear everything from himself
for the first time; and thus too the whole of the company
was obliged to show some sort of sympathy with the new
visitor. One must have known his brother, another his
property, and a third something no matter what, so that
throughout a lively conversation the major always felt him-
self to be the central point. He was seated, too, next to the
beauty ; her eyes were upon him, her smiles were directed
towards him; enough, he found himself so comfortable,
that he almost forgot the cause of his coming. And she
too, scarcely said a single word about his son, although the
young man joined in the conversation with vivacity; to
her he seemed like all the rest, to be there to-day only for
his father’s sake.

Ladies’ work carried on in company, and to all ap-
184 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IL

pearance continued with indifference, often by help of
cleverness and grace acquires a great significance. If
pursued without pre-occupation and diligently, such em-
ployments give a beautiful woman an air of com-
plete inattention to surrounding company, and arouse
in the latter a secret dissatisfaction. But then again,
as if waking up, a word, a glance, places the absent
one again in the midst of the company, she seems as if
newly welcomed ; but if she lays down her work in her
lap, pays attention to a story, to an instructive disserta-
tion, in which gentlemen are so fond of indulging, this
becomes in the highest degree flattering to whomsoever
she may favour in this manner.

Our fair widow was working in this fashion at a splendid
as well as tasteful letter-case, which, moreover, was re-
markable for its large dimensions. This was just now
being discussed by the company ; it was taken up by her
next neighbour, and amidst much praise handed all around
the circle, whilst the fair artist herself was discussing some
serious subject with the major. An old family friend
praised the almost finished work with some exaggeration,
yet, when it reached the major, she seemed to be about to
take it from him as not worthy of his attention, whilst he,
on the contrary, did not fail to acknowledge the merit of
the work in the most obliging manner, and the family
friend, in the mean time, fancied that he saw in it the
magical handiwork of a Penelope.

The company walked to and fro in the rooms, and
formed themselves into accidental groups. The lieutenant
stepped up to the beauty, and asked, “ What do you say
to my father?”

She answered, laughingly, “It seems to me that you
might well take him for a pattern. Only look how neatly
he is dressed! Does he not bear himself and behave him-
self better than his dear son?”

So she went on to cry up and praise the father at the
expense of the son, and to provoke in the young man’s
heart a very mixed feeling of content and jealousy. It
was not long before the son joined his father, and re-
peated it all again to him minutely. The father behaved
with all the more friendliness towards the widow, who
Crap. IIL] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 185

already adopted towards him a more lively and confidential
tone. In short, it may be said that when the time for
parting came, the major already belonged to her and to
her circle as much as all the others.

A heavy rain which was falling prevented the company
from returning home in the manner in which they had
come. A few carriages drove up, into which the pedestrians
were distributed; only the lieutenant, under the pretext
that they were already too full, allowed his father to drive
off, and remained behind.

The major, when he entered his room, felt really in a
whirl of uncertainty respecting himself, as happens to those
who pass quickly from one condition into an opposite one.
The earth seems to move to him who disembarks from on
board ship, and light still trembles before the eye of him
who suddenly enters into darkness. So the major still
felt himself surrounded by the presence of that beautiful
being. He wished still to be seeing her, to be listening
to her,—to see her again, to listen to her again ; and, after
some reflexion, he excused his son, nay, he extolled his
happiness, in that he could make some claims to possess
so many attractions. From these reflexions he was torn
by his son, who in a passionate ecstasy rushed in at the
door, embraced his father, and exclaimed, “I am the
happiest man in the world !”

After these and like exclamations the two at last came
to an explanation. The father observed, that the beauty
in her conversation with him had not spoken a syllable
about his son.

“That is just the delicate, reserved, half-silent, half-
significant manner, by which one learns her wishes, and
still for all that cannot quite refrain from doubt. Thus it is
that she has hitherto been towards me, but your presence,
father, has done wonders. I willingly confess that I
remained behind in order to see her another moment. I
found her pacing to and fro in her lighted rooms, for
I well know.that this is her usual habit; when the com-
pany has left, not a single light may be extinguished.
She walks up and down alone in her enchanted halls,
when the spirits whom she has convoked have departed.
She allowed the pretext to pass under cover of which I
186 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

had returned. She spoke gracefully, yet on common
topics. We walked backwards and forwards through the =
open doors of the whole suite of apartments. Several times

already we had reached the end, the small retreat, which
is lighted only by a dim lamp. If she was beautiful when
she moved beneath the lustres, she was infinitely more so
when illumined by the soft radiance of the lamp. We had
reached it again, and, on turning round, we stopped silent
for a moment. I do not know what impelled me to the
boldness, I do not know how I could venture, in the midst
of the most indifferent talk, suddenly to seize her hand,
to kiss that delicate hand, and to press it to my heart. It
was not drawn away. ‘Heavenly being!’ I exclaimed,
¢do not hide yourself longer from me! If in this beautiful
heart there is harboured any affection for the fortunate
one who stands before you, do not conceal it longer, reveal
it, confess it! This is the fairest and the best hour. Banish
me, or take me to your arms!’ I do not know all that I
said, I do not know how I behaved. But she did not
withdraw, she did not resist, she did not answer. I ven-
tured to clasp her in my arms, to ask her whether she
would be mine. I kissed her wildly ; she pushed me away.

 

“Yes, then, yes,” or something like that she said half-aloud, -

and as if confused. I withdrew, exclaiming, ‘I will send

my father, he shall speak for me!’”

“ Not a word to him about it!” she replied, whilst she
followed me a few steps. “Go away, forget what has
happened.” :

What the major thought we shall not disclose. How-

ever, he said to his son: “ What do you think ought to be
donenow ? The matter, in my opinion, has been sufficiently
well introduced on the spur of the moment to enable us
now to set to work somewhat more formally, and to make

it, perhaps, very proper that I should call to-morrow and

intercede for you.”
« For God’s sake, father!” he exclaimed, “that would

be to spoil the whole thing. That bearing, that tone,

must not be disturbed or untuned by any kind of formality;
it is enough, father, that your presence will accelerate this
union, without your uttering a word. Yes, it is you to

whom I owe my good fortune. The esteem of my beloved
Cuar. I11.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 187

one for you has conquered every doubt, and the son would
never have found so happy a moment if the father had
not paved the way for it.”

They remained engaged in conversation of this kind
until late in the night. They agreed mutually as to their
plans. The major, only for form’s sake, wished to pay a
farewell visit to the beautiful widow, and then to take
steps towards his union with Hilaria; the son was to
forward and expedite his as might be possible.
188 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

CHAPTER IV.

Our major paid a morning visit to the pretty widow to
take leave, and if possible with becoming decency to
further his son’s intentions. He found her in the most
elegant morning toilet, in the company of an elderly lady,
who at once captivated him by her highly refined and
amiable presence. The grace of the younger, the dignity
of the elder one, placed the two in a most admirably
balanced relation; their mutual behaviour also, through-
out, seemed to suggest that they belonged to one another.

The younger lady seemed to have just finished a
diligently-worked letter-case, already familiar to us, from
yesterday ; for after the ordinary greetings and reassuring
words of welcome, she turned to her friend, and handed
her the work of art, as if again taking up an interrupted
conversation. “So you see that I have finished it after
all, though with so much delay and putting off, it scarcely
looked likely that I would.”

“You come just in time, Herr Major,” said the elder
lady, “to decide our dispute, or at least to declare yourself
for one side or the other. I maintain that one never
undertakes such a long-drawn work without thinking of
some person for whom it is destined; one does not finish
it without some such thought. Look yourself at this
work of art, for so I can fairly call it; can anything of
the kind ever be undertaken without an object ?”

Our major had indeed to bestow all his approbation
on the work. Partly worked, and partly embroidered, it
aroused not only admiration, but also a desire to know
how it was made. Coloured silks predominated, but gold
too was not dispensed with; one did not know whether
splendour or taste was the more to be admired.

“ And yet there is still something to be done to it,”

 
|

Omar. 1v.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 189

replied the beauty, again untying the knot of the string
that fastened it around, and busying herself with the
interior. “I will not wrangle,” she continued, “but I
will tell you how I am disposed towards work of this
kind. As young girls, we grow accustomed to plying our
fingers, and to wandering with our thoughts; both habits
remain, whilst we learn by degrees to accomplish the most
"difficult and elegant kinds of work; and I do not deny
that with every piece of work of this kind I have always
"associated the thoughts of persons and circumstances, and
joy and sorrow. And thus what I had undertaken be-
came valuable to me, and what I had finished, I may
well say, became precious to me. As such, then, I was
able to regard even the most trifling thing as something,
the lightest work gained a value, and the most difficult,
too, only on this account—that the recollections in this
case were richer and more complete. I therefore always
thought of being able to offer such kinds of work to
friends and to those I loved—to worthy and distinguished
persons ; they, too, recognised the fact, and knew that I
was offering them something of my very own, which,
whilst constituting in many and indescribable ways, yet
at all events, somehow or other, an acceptable gift, was
always accepted graciously as a friendly compliment.”

To such an amiable confession a reply was indeed
scarcely possible; yet her lady friend had the tact to add
a few civil words in return. But the major, accustomed
from of old to appreciate the graceful wisdom of the
Roman writers and poets, and to imprint on his memory
their luminous expressions, recollected a few apposite
verses,* but, lest he should appear as a pedant, took care
not to utter them, or even to mention them. However,
in order not to seem stupid and devoid of wit, he attempted
an impromptu paraphrase in prose, which, however, did
not quite succeed, so that the conversation nearly came to
a standstill.

The elder lady therefore seized a book that had been
laid down on our friend’s entrance; it was a selection of
poetry, which just before had been occupying the atten-
tion of the friends. This afforded an opportunity of speak-

* From Ovid. See below, p. 198.—D,
190 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II

ing about poetry in general, and yet the conversation
did not remain long on the general subject, for soon the
ladies candidly confessed that they had been informed of
the major’s poetical talent. The son, who did not hide
his own claims to the honorary title of poet, had told them
beforehand about his father’s poetry, and even recited some
of it; in reality in order to flatter himself with a poetical
descent, and, as is the case with youth, to be able to
announce himself, in a modest way, as a progressive son
who carried to a higher pitch his father's capabilities.
But the major, who sought to withdraw, since he only
wished to pass for a man of letters and an amateur, tried,
when no escape remained, at least to back out, maintaining
that the kind of poetry which he certainly had practised
was regarded as only a subordinate and an almost spurious
sort; he could not deny having made a few attempts in
the kind which is called descriptive, and, in a certain sense,
didactic.

The ladies, especially the younger, were fond of this
kind of poetry; she said, “ When one wants to live
rationally and quietly, which, in fine, is the wish and
intention of every human being, what is the good of
the sensational kind, that wantonly allures us without
giving us anything, that unsettles us, and yet in the end
abandons us to ourselves again? Yet since I cannot will-
ingly dispense with poetry of one sort or another, infinitely
more pleasant to me is that kind which transports me into
cheerful regions, where I seem to recognize myself again ;
which brings home to my mind the sterling worth of the
simply rural, carries me through leafy shades into the
forest, unexpectedly commanding from a height the view
of an inland lake, opposite to which perhaps cultivated
hills, and then wood-crowned heights arise, whilst the
blue mountains in the background form a soothing pic-
ture. If this is offered me in plain rhythm and rhyme,
then on my sofa I am thankful to the poet for having
evolved in my fancy a picture, in which 1 can enjoy more
at my ease than if I saw it before my eyes after
fatiguing travel, and perhaps under other unfavourable
circumstances.”

The major, who in point of fact looked on the present
 

Guar. 1IV.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 10%

conversation only as a means of furthering his ends, tried
to turn again to the lyrical style of poetry, in which his
gon had really achieved something praiseworthy. They
did not gainsay him directly, but they tried jokingly to

get him out of the path on which he had entered, particu-

larly as he seemed to allude to passionate pieces, in which

‘the son, not without force and ability, had tried to bring
before the incomparable lady the decided inclination of
his heart.

“ Lovers’ lays,” said the lady, “I care neither to have
said nor sung to me ; happy lovers one envies before one is
aware of it, and unhappy ones we always find tedious.”

Hereupon the elder lady, turning to her charming friend,
struck in and said, “ Why are we proceeding so indirectly
and losing time in ceremonies towards a man whom we love
and honour? Ought we not to confide to him that we
have already the pleasure of knowing in part his charming
poem, in which he describes the sturdy passion of the
chase in all its details; and ought we not to beg him now
not to withhold longer from us the whole of it? Your
son,” she continued, “has repeated to us with vivacity a
few passages from memory, and made us curious to see it
as a connected whole.”

But when the father was a second time about to revert
to and extol the talents of his son, the ladies would not
allow this to pass, denouncing it as an evident evasion for
the purpose of declining indirectly to fulfil their wishes.
He was not allowed to get off until he had unconditionally
promised to send the poem; but after that the conversa-
tion took a turn, which prevented him from saying any-
thing more in favour of his son, especially as the latter
had dissuaded him from all importunity.

As it now seemed to be the time to take leave, and the
friend too had already made some movement to that end,
the beauty said, with a sort of embarrassment, which only
made her still more beautiful, at the same time carefully
arranging the knot of the letter-case, which had been newly
tied: “Poets and amateurs have unfortunately been long
in such sort of repute, that one ought not to rely too much
upon their promises and agreements; pardon me, there-
fore, if I venture to call in doubt the word of an honour
192 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

able man, and on that account purpose, not to ask, but

to give a pledge, a token of faith. Take this letter-case; |

it has some resemblance to your hunting-poem: many
recollections are attached to it, a long time has been
spent in the work, at last it is finished; avail yourself

|

|

;
£
3
t
2
§

of it as a messenger, in which to bring us your pleasing

work.”

The major really felt struck at such an unexpected
offer; the elegant splendour of this gift had so little rela-
tion to what habitually surrounded him, to everything
else that he made use of, that although offered to him, he
scarcely ventured to accept it; still, he collected himself,
and as some treasure of traditional lore was never lacking
to his memory, a classical passage immediately occurred
to his mind. However, it would have been pedantic to
quote it, and yet it suggested in him a bright thought, so
that then and there he was able in a neat paraphrase to
tender a friendly acknowledgment, and an elegant com-
pliment in return. And thus the scene was closed in a
satisfactory manner to all the interlocutors.

So, finally, he found himself, not without embarrass-
ment, entangled in a pleasant connexion: he had pro-
mised, had pledged himself to send, to write; and if the
occasion in some measure seemed unsatisfactory, still he
had to esteem as a piece of good fortune the fact that he was
to remain in pleasant relations with the lady who, with
all her great attractions, was to be so nearly allied to him.
So he took his departure, not without a certain inward
satisfaction; for how should the poet not feel such an
encouragement as this, when his faithful and diligent
work, that had so long lain unheeded, was now quite
unexpectedly receiving amiable recognition ?

Immediately after his return to his quarters, the major
sat down to write, to inform his good sister of everything,
and then nothing was more natural than that his whole
style should betray a certain exultation, such as he himself
felt, and which, by the remarks of his son interrupting him
from time to time, was raised to a still higher degree.

Upon the baroness this letter made a very mingled im-
pression ; for although the circumstance—through which
the union of her brother with Hilaria was likely to be
Caar. IV.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 193

facilitated and hastened—was in itself calculated to satisfy
her completely, still the beautiful widow somehow failed
to please her, though she would not have thought of taking
herself to task on that account. We will take this oppor-
tunity of making the following observation :

An enthusiasm for any one woman, ought never to
be confided to another; they know each other too well to
believe themselves worthy of any such exclusive homage.
Men appear to them as customers in a shop, where the
tradesman, who knows his wares, has the best of it, and
can also avail himself of the opportunity of displaying
them in the best lights; whilst, on the other hand, the
buyer always enters with a kind of innocence ; he stands
in need of the article, desires to have it, and but very
rarely understands how to look at it with the eyes of an
expert. The one knows very well what he is giving, the
other does not always know what he is receiving. Yet
once for all this cannot be changed in human life and con-
verse—nay, it is even as legitimate as necessary; for all
coveting aud wooing, all buying and bartering, depends
upon it.

In consequence of this sentiment, rather than reflexion,
the baroness could not be entirely satisfied either with the
passion of the son or with the favourable description of
the father; she found herself surprised by the fortunate
turn of affairs, and yet she could not banish a foreboding,
on account of the double disparity of age. Hilaria seems
to her too young for her brother, the widow not young
enough for the son; in the meanwhile the affair has taken
a course which is not likely to be checked. A pious wish
that all might end well arose with a subdued sigh. To
relieve her heart, she seized a pen, and wrote to that
friend of hers so well acquainted with mankind,* and

~ after a prefatory narrative, she thus continued :

“The method of this seductive widow is not unknown
to me: she seems to decline all female company, and only

to endure near her a woman who in no way prejudices
| her, who flatters her, and if her silent advantages are not
sufficiently obvious, manages by words and an adroit treat-
ment to recommend her to observation. Spectators, if

* Makaria is meant. See below, p. 207.

Q
194 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor II

sympathiscrs in such a performance, must be men; hence
arises the necessity of enticing them and retaining them.
I think no evil of the beautiful woman ; she seems proper
and discreet enough, but such a hankering vanity must
doubtless sacrifice something to circumstances, and —what
I regard as the worst—it is not all so considered and
designed: a certain happy natural disposition guides
and protects her, and nothing is more dangerous in a
born coquette like her than an abandon resulting from
innocence.”

The major, now at length arrived at his country house,
devoted the day and hour to inspection and examination.
He found himself in a situation to observe that a straight-
forward and well-grasped leading idea is in its execution
subjected to manifold hindrances, and to the traversing of
so many chances, to such a degree that the first idea almost
vanishes, and for the moment scems to be utterly and
completely lost, until in the midst of all the confusion
the mind again perceives the possibility of success, when
we see Time, the best ally of invincible endurance, offering
us a hand.

And so too, here, there would have been the melancholy
spectacle of fair and wide yet neglected possessions brought
into a hopeless condition through the clever remarks of
keen-witted economists, had it not at the same time been
foreseen that a term of years, used with common sense and
honesty, are sufficient to reanimate what is dead, to bring
into circulation what is stagnant, and so, by method and
industry, to attain at last one’s end.

The good-natured Obermarschall had arrived, and with
him, in fact, a grave lawyer; yet the latter caused the
major less anxiety than the former, who was one of those
people who have no fixed object, or, if they see one before
them, decline the means of attaining it. Daily and hourly
pleasure was the indispensable requirement of his life.
After long hesitation, he had at last resolved in earnest to
rid himself of his creditors, to shake off the burdens on his
property, to put order into the confusion of his household,
to enjoy without further anxieties a respectable and certain
income; yet, for all that, not to discontinue even the
smallest item of his previous habits.
Cuar. IV.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 195

On the whole he agreed to everything as to what his
brother and sister were to pay for the undisturbed posses-
sion of the estate, and especially of the principal pro-
perty; yet he would not completely forego his claims
to a certain adjacent villa, to which every year on his
birthday he invited his oldest friends and most recent
acquaintances, nor to the ornamental gardens attached
thereto that connected it with the principal building.
The furniture was all to remain in the villa, the en-
gravings on the walls; and, moreover, the fruit upon
the espaliers was reserved to him. Peaches and straw-
berries of the most exquisite kind, pears and apples large
and well-flavoured, but particularly a certain kind of small
grey apples, which he had been accustomed for many years
to offer to the princess-dowager, were faithfully to be.
handed over to him. To this were added other conditions
less important, but to the owner, the tenants, the over-
seers, and the gardeners, uncommonly burdensome.

For the rest the Obermarschall was in the best humour ;
for he did not relinquish the thought that all would
ultimately be arranged according to his wishes, and as his
sanguine temperament had anticipated ; he therefore only
troubled himself about a good dinner, and in an easy ride
of a few hours obtained the requisite exercise, related story
after story, and showed throughout a most cheerful coun-
tenance. In the same manner, too, he took his departure,
thanked the major most handsomely for having treated
him in such a brotherly manner, borrowed a little money,
had the store of small grey apples, which this year had
succeeded particularly well, carefully packed up, and with
this treasure, which he intended to offer as a welcome
compliment to the princess, he drove away to the dowager’s
residence, where in due course he was received in a gracious

. and friendly manner.

The major, for his part, remained behind with totally
opposite feelings, and would have been almost driven to
despair at the restrictions that he found before him, if he

had not been aided by that feeling which cheers and
revives an active man when he has the hope of un-

 

~ ravelling what is confused, and enjoying what has been
~ unravelled.

0 2
196 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II,

Fortunately the lawyer happened to be an honest man,
who, as he had a good deal else to do, soon settled the
question. It was equally fortunate that a valet of the
Obermarschall’s threw himself into it, and, on reasonable
conditions, promised to co-operate in the affair, whereby a
successful result might be hoped for. Satisfactory as this
was, however, still the major, as a man of rectitude, felt, in
the shifting pros and cons of this business, that satisfaction
was only to be got through much that was unsatisfactory.
But just as to women, the moment at which their hitherto
uncontested beauty will become doubtful is in the highest
degree painful, so also to men of a certain age, though
still in the fullness of vigour, the faintest sense of insuf-
ficient power is extremely disagreeable, nay, in some
degree painful. :

Another circumstance, however, that occurred, which
ought to have disturbed him, put him into the best humour.
His cosmetical valet, who had not left him even during
this country excursion, for some time back seemed to have
struck into a fresh path, to which the majors early rising,
his daily rides and excursions, as also the admittance of
many busy people —or even, during the Obermarschall’s pre-
sence, of many idle ones—seemed to compel him. For some
time past he had excused the major all the small trifles,
that only had a claim to engage the attention of an actor,
but so much the more strictly did he hold fast to certain
principal points, which hitherto had been obscured by a
less important hocus-pocus. He re-enforced everything
which not only aimed at the appearance of health, but
also was seriously supposed to maintain health itself,
but particularly moderation in everything, and variety
according to circumstances ; attention likewise to the skin
and hair, to eyebrows and teeth, to hands and nails, the
most elegant form and neatest length of which this expert
had long made his care. At the same time he stringently
prescribed, over and over again, moderation in everything
that is wont to throw a man off his balance; after which
this professor of the art of beautification asked leave to
go, because he could be of no further use to his master.
At the same time one can imagine that he may well have
wished himself back with his former patron, in order to

 
Crap. IV.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 197

be able to devote himself once more to the varied plea-
sures of a theatrical life,

And it really did the major a great deal of good to be
again his own master. The sensible man needs only to keep
himself under control, and he is happy. He could again
freely indulge in his old exercise of riding, hunting, and
of all pertaining thereto. The image of Hilaria in such
solitary moments again came pleasantly forward, and he
adapted himself to the condition of an engaged man—
perhaps the most charming one that is allotted to us
within the sphere of civilised life.

During a pause in the business that left him some
liberty, he hurried to his estate, where, recollecting the
promise given to the beautiful widow, which he had never
forgotten, he rummaged among his poems, that were lying
put away in excellent order; at the same time he put his
hand on many note and memorandum-books, containing
extracts from ancient and modern authors which he had
read. Owing to his partiality for Horace and the Roman
poets, most of them belonged to these, and it struck him
that the passages chiefly expressed regrets for past time,
and for a vanished state of things and feelings. Instead
of many, we shall insert only the following passage:

Heu!...

Quse mens est hodie, cur eadem non puero fuit?
Vel cur his animis incolumes non redeunt geno? *

Translation.

To-day how full I am of glee,

Content in heart and clear in thought;
But when my boyish blood flowed free,
How gloomy was I and distraught!
Yet, when I feel the years behind,
However joyous I may be,

Those ruddy cheeks I call to mind,
And wish they still remained to me,

Our friend having very soon found the hunting-poem
among his well-arranged papers, he congratulated himself
on the careful caligraphy, as years ago he had written it
down in most elegant style, with Roman characters, in

* Horace, Od. iv. 10.
198 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

large octavo. The precious letter-case being of consider-
able size, would contain the poem quite conveniently, and
not often has an author seen himself so magnificently
bound. A few lines on the subject were absolutely neces-
sary; but prose was scarcely admissible. That Ovidian
passage again occurred to him, and he thought he would
best manage the matter by a poetical transcription, as he
had on the other occasion by a prose ome. It ran as
follows :

Nec factas solum vestes spectare juvabat,
Tum quoque, dum fierent: tantus decor adfuit arti.*

Translation.

I watch’d it when in hands well skill'd—
(How I recall that season sweet!)—

It grew and grew, until fulfill’d

In splendour never so complete;

And, true enough, ’tis now my own,
Yet, to myself alone I tell,

I wish it still were not quite done—

I loved its making all too well!

With this transposition our friend did not long remain
satisfied ; he regretted the conversion of the beautifully
inflected verb fierent into a sorry abstract substantive, and
he was vexed that, in spite of all reflexion, he was unable
to mend the passage. Now all at once his partiality for
the ancient languages awoke again, and the splendour of
the German Parnassus, the heights of which, however, he
was privately striving to ascend, seemed to grow dim
before him.

But at last, finding that this pleasant compliment, apart
from the original text, was good enough, and venturing to
believe that a lady would accept it quite in good part,
there arose a second source of misgiving, namely, that if
one cannot be galant in verse without seeming to be in
love, he would in that case, as a father-in-law about to be,
be playing a strange part. The worst, however, occurred
to him last. The Ovidian verses were uttered by Arachne,
a lady spinner no less clever than beautiful and attractive.
Now, if she through the envy of Minerva was turned into

* Ovid, Metam. iv. 17, 18. See above, p. 192.

 
Cuar. IV.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 199

a spider, then it would be dangerous to compare even
remotely a beautiful woman with a spider, and see her
hovering at the centre of an outspread net. Among all
the witty company which surrounded our lady, could one
imagine any scholar who would have blundered into a
comparison of this kind? How our friend extricated
himself from such a dilemma has remained unknown to
us, and we must number this case among those over which
the muses slyly make bold to throw a veil. Enough, the
hunting-poem itself was despatched; but about this we
have to add a few words.

The reader of it is supposed to revel in a determined
love of sport, and of everything that contributes to it;
delightful is the succession of the seasons, which in different
ways occasion and promote it. The peculiarities of all the
creatures that are pursued and that one seeks to kill, the
different characters of the sportsmen who devote them-
selves to this pleasure, to this toil, the accidents that
favour or hinder it—all, especially whatever related to the
winged tribe, was set forth in the best of moods, and
treated with great originality. From the breeding of the
grouse to the second flight of the woodcock, and from that
to the building of the crow, nothing was neglected ; all
was well observed, clearly conceived, passionately pursued,
and was lightly, playfully, and often ironically set forth.

The elegiac strain, however, sounded throughout the
whole ; it was treated rather as a farewell to these pleasures
of life, whereby it indeed gained a pathetic touch as of a
merry life spent, and had a very beneficial effect, but yet in
the end, as in the case of those mottoes above cited, allowed
a certain emptiness after enjoyment to be felt. Whether
it was due to turning over these papers, or to a momentary
indisposition, the major did not feel in a happy mood. At
the diverging point at which he found himself, he seemed
all at once to feel keenly that the years at first bring us
one pleasant gift after the other, and then by degrees
withdraw them again. A holiday put off, a summer gone
without enjoyment, want of continual, habitual exercise
—all caused him to feel certain bodily ailments, which he
took for real evils, and showed more impatience thereat
than there might seem occasion for.
200 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II

The various members of the family had now been for
several months without any special news of one another;
the major was busy in the capital finally negociating cer-
tain grants and confirmations appertaining to his affairs;
the baroness and Hilaria bestowed their energies upon
securing the gayest and richest outfit ; the son, passionately
devoting himself to his fair one, seemed to forget every-
thing in that. The winter had set in, and enveloped all
rural habitations in dismal rain-storms and premature
gloom.

Anyone who at this time might have lost his way on
a dark November night in the neighbourhood of the noble
castle, and seen by the feeble light of the half-veiled moon
cornfields, meadows, clumps of trees, hills and underwood
lying gloomily before him, and then all at once at a sharp
turning round a corner have beheld in front of him the
whole range of windows of an extensive edifice lit up,
might well have thought that he had there fallen in with
a company in festive array. Yet how would he have been
astonished, when ushered up the illuminated staircase by
a few servants, to see only three women—the baroness,
Hilaria, and the ladies’-maid, in the lighted apartments
within those bright walls, among hospitable domestic
surroundings, thoroughly warm and comfortable.

Yet, since we suppose that we are surprising the baroness
in a festive array, it is necessary to observe, that this
splendid illumination is in this case not to be regarded as
anything extraordinary, but that it is one of the pecu-
liarities that the lady had brought with her from her
earlier life. As the daughter of a lady-in-waiting, edu-
cated at court, she was wont to prefer the winter to all
other seasons, and to make the display of a grand illumi-
nation the chief element of all her enjoyments. In fact
there was no stint of wax candles, but one of her oldest
servants had such a great delight in artificial illumination,
that it was not easy for a new kind of lamp to be invented
without his taking pains to introduce it into the castle,
whereby surely enough the illumination gained consider-
ably, but it also occasionally happened that here and there
partial darkness was the result.

By her marriage with a distinguished landowner and

 

 
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Cuar. IV.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 201

‘eminent cultivator, the baroness, from affection and on
(due consideration, had changed her condition of a lady at
court, and her sensible husband, when at first a country
| life failed to suit her, had, with the consent of his neigh-
 bours, nay, even at the injunction of the government,
so much improved the roads for many miles round, that
the intercommunication of the neighbourhood had never
been found anywhere in such a good condition; yet in
this laudable improvement the principal object had really
been that the lady, especially in favourable weather, might

| be able to drive everywhere; but in winter, on the other

hand, she might remain at home with him, whilst he

managed, by means of artificial light, to make night like

‘day. After her husband’s death, her passionate solicitude
for her daughter afforded her sufficient occupation, her
brother's frequent visits gratified her affection, and the
habitual brightness of her surroundings gave a degree of
comfort which had all the appearance of real contentment.

To-day, however, this illumination was altogether in

| place, for in one of the rooms we see displayed a kind of

Christmas-show, attractive and resplendent to the sight.
The cunning ladies’-maid had prevailed on the butler to
increase the illumination, and at the same time had col-
lected and spread out all that had been prepared before-
hand for Hilaria’s marriage outfit—in point of fact with
the sly purpose rather of bringing under discussion what
was still wanting, than of showing off what had already
been provided. All the needful things were there, made,

{ moreover, of the finest material, and with the most elegant

handiwork ; neither was there any lack of fancy articles;
and yet Ananetta was clever enough still to make a gap
visible everywhere, where one could just as easily have

found the most beautiful continuity. Whilst all sorts of

under-clothing, handsomely set out, dazzled the eyes,
linen, muslin, and all delicate fabrics of the kind, what-
ever their names might be, casting light enough around,
yet all the coloured silk-stuffs were missing, for the pur-
chase of those had been wisely deferred, because, con-

sidering the very changeable fashions, it was intended

to add whatever was most recent as a climax and

4 conclusion.

 
202 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II,

After this most merry inspection, they betook them- i
selves again to their customary but varied evening enter-

tainment. The baroness, who knew well what makes a

young lady endowed with a pleasant exterior attractive
also from within, and her presence desirable wheresoever

fate might lead her, had managed to introduce into these

rural surroundings so many varied and instructive means

of amusement, that Hilaria, young as she was, seemed at
home everywhere, was not at a loss in any conversation,
and yet showed herself withal quite on a level with her
years. To show step by step how this had been possible,
would be too long a task; enough to say, this evening also

was a sample of the kind of life they had hitherto led. |
Intellectual reading, a graceful piano recital, pretty songs, |
went on for some hours, pleasintly and in due order as |
heretofore, and yet not without a certain significance;

they had in mind a third person, a beloved and honoured
man, to welcome whom in the heartiest manner they were
practising this and much besides. It was a bridal feeling
that animated Hilaria, and not her alone, with the sweetest
sensations; the mother, with delicate sentiment, felt an
unalloyed sympathy therein, and even Ananetta, in general
only scheming and busy, was fain to abandon herself to
certain distant hopes, which pictured to her fancy an
absent friend as returning and present. In this manner
the feelings of all three women, each of them amiable in
her own way, were in harmony with the surrounding

brightness, with the cheering warmth, and with the most |

comfortable circumstances.

  

 

 

eS pe

EE
( 203 )

CHAPTER V.

 

}

| A vioLENT knocking and shouting at the outermost gate
—an interchange of threatening and peremptory voices
—lamp- and torch-light in the courtyard—interrupted the
gentle singing. Yet the.noise had subsided before they
had learned the cause of it, but quiet there was not: on
the staircase the trample and quick discussing of men
‘ascending. The door sprang open without any an-

nouncement ; the ladies were terrified. Flavio rushed in
in the most forlorn condition, with disordered head, on
which the hair was partly ruffled up and partly hanging
down drenched with rain; with tattered clothes, like one
who bas been rushing through thorns and bushes, dread-
fully soiled, as if he had been wading through a mire and
marsh.

“My father!” he exclaimed, “ Where is my father?”

The ladies were out of their wits; the old huntsman,
his earliest servant and favourite attendant, entering along
with bim, called out to him, “ Your father is not here;
calm yourself; here is your aunt, here is your cousin, see
here!”

“Not here! then let me go away and find him. He
alone shall hear it, and then I will die! Let me get away
from the lamps, from the light of day. It dazzles me, it

annihilates me.” .

The house physician came in, seized his hand cautiously,
feeling his pulse; several servants were standing anxiously
around.

“ What am I doing on these carpets? I am spoiling
them, I am ruining them; my wretchedness drips down
upon them, my abject destiny defiles them!”

He rushed towards the door; they took advantage of
this effort to lead him away, and take him to the distant
   

204 . WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS.  {Boox IL §

guest-chamber that his father usually occupied. Mother
and daughter stood aghast; they had seen an Orestes |
chased by furies, not ennobled by art, but in a horrible ©
repugnant reality, which in contrast with the comfort of §
a splendid dwelling in the brightest glow of waxen lights §
seemed only the more fearful. Terror-stricken, the women ©
looked at one another, and each believed that she saw in
the eyes of the other the picture of horror that had im- |

pressed itself so deeply on her own.

Only half herself, the baroness sent one servant after 1

another to get information. It was some consolation to

hear that he was being undressed, dried, and taken care

of; that half consciously, half unwittingly, he allowed
all this to be done. On repeating their inquiries, they
were counselled to have patience.

At last the anxious ladies were informed that he had |
been bled, and in other respects every possible soothing

remedy employed ; he had been brought to a quiet condi-
tion, and sleep was hoped for. .

Midnight arrived; the baroness asked to see him if he
was asleep ; the physician opposed —the physician yielded ;
Hilaria pressed in with her mother. The room was dimly
lighted, only one candle glistened behind the green screen,
there was little to be seen, nothing to be heard ; the mother
approached the bed, Hilaria with eager longing seized the
candle and threw the light upon the sleeper. There he
lay, turned away from them, but a very well-formed ear,
a rounded cheek, now somewhat pale, peeped forth most
gracefully among the locks that by this time curled
again; a hand lying quietly, with its long, delicate, yet

strong fingers, attracted the wandering glance. Hilaria,
breathing gently, thought that she even perceived his
gentle breathing; she brought the light nearer, like

Psyche, at the risk of disturbing this most wholesome

rest. The physician took the candle away and lighted

the ladies to their rooms.

How these kind persons, so worthy of all sympathy,

spent the hours of night, has remained a secret from us;

but early the next morning they both showed themselves |

very impatient. There was no end to their questioning,

to their desire to see the patient, proffered diffidently yet °

 

 
   
 
   
  

4Cuar. V.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 205

fargently ; only towards midday the physician allowed a
[short visit.

I [fhe baroness stepped forward; Flavio extended his
snand,

| “Pardon, dearest aunt; only a little patience, perhaps
¥not for long.”

| Hilaria came forward; to her, too, he gave his right
{thand. “Welcome, dear sister.”

| This went through her heart: he did not leave hold ;
{they looked at one another, the most beauteous pair, a
Jcontrast in the finest sense. The youth’s black, flashing
‘eyes harmonized with the dark tangled locks; she, on the
other hand, stood, to all appearance divine in peace, and
{yet with the agitating past was now associated the present
full of foreboding. That name, sister /—her inmost heart
was stirred.

The baroness spoke: “How are you, dear nephew ?”

« Pretty well, but they treat me badly.”

“How so?”

“They have bled me; it is cruel; they have carried it
away, it was audacious; it does not belong to me, it is all
—all hers.”

With these words his face seemed to change, but with
hot tears he hid his face in the pillow.

Hilaria’s countenance betrayed to her mother a terrible
expression : it was as if the dear child saw the gates of
hell open before her, and for the first time looked on a
monster, and for ever. Swiftly, passionately, she hurried
| through the saloon, threw herself in the last chamber
upon the sofa; her mother followed, and asked what, alas!
she already perceived.

Hilaria, looking up in a strange way, cried, The blood,
‘the blood ! it all belongs to her—all to her, and she is not
worthy of it. Unhappy man! poor man!”

With these words, the bitterest storm of tears relieved
the agonized heart.

Who is there that would undertake to reveal the situna-
tion that was developing itself from the foregoing scene
—to bring to light the inward mischief for the women
growing from this first meeting? To the patient, too,
it was in the highest degree hurtful; so at least affirmed

 
206 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book wk

the physician, who came, it is true, often enough to impart &

news and to give consolation, but who felt himself in duty |

bound to forbid all further visiting. In this also he found
a willing obedience; the daughter did not venture to ask |
what her mother would not have allowed, ard so the order |

of the sensible gentleman was obeyed. But, on the other

hand, he brought the welcome tidings that Flavio had i

asked for writing materials, and written down something, ©

but had forthwith hidden it close by him in the bed. i

Curiosity was now added to their remaining restlessness |

and impatience; those were painful hours. After some |

time, however, he brought a scrap, written in a fine
free hand, although hastily; it contained the following
lines:

A marvel comes poor Man into the world,

In marvels lost Man to and fro is hurld.

With steps uncertain, hard it is to tell

To what dark gate he wends his pathless way;

For in Heaven's living light and midmost ray

I see, I feel but night, and death, and hell.

So here once again could the noble art of poetry display
its healing power. Intimately associated with music, she
heals all sorrows of the soul from its very depths, whilst
powerfully arousing, evoking, and putting them to flight
with liberating pangs. The physician had convinced
himself that the youth would soon be well; sound in
body, he would soon feel cheerful again, if the passion
weighing upon his mind could be removed or mitigated.
Hilaria meditated upon a reply; she sat down to the
piano, and tried to accompany the lines of the patient
with a melody. She did not succeed ; nothing in her soul
responded to such deep grief; yet, at this attempt, rhythm
and rhyme accommodated themselves to such a degree to
her ideas, that she responded to the poem with soothing
cheerfulness, and taking her time, composed and worked
up the following strophe :

Though still in very depths of woe and pain,
Thou rt destined for the joys of youth again.
Arise and man thyself for health’s quick pace!
To friendship’s clear and heavenly light be led;
Midst good and true ones find a resting-place—
So may life’s joyous dew be o’er thee shed!

 
   
 

 
{Cmar. V.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 207

| The medical friend of the family took charge of the
(missive; it succeeded, the youth already replied in a mo-
) derate tone; Hilaria continued soothingly, and thus, little
‘by little, they seemed to gain daylight and open ground
i once more, and perhaps we may be allowed, when occasion
) serves, to describe the whole course of this pleasing treat-
iment. Enough, some time was spent most pleasantly in
I this sort of occupation; a quiet interview was being
‘arranged beforehand, and the physician no longer thought
} it necessary to defer it.

In the mean time the baroness had busied herself in
i sorting and arranging old papers, and this occupation,
« which so completely accorded with present circumstances,
i acted wonderfully upon her excited spirit. She passed in
{ review many years of her own life; deep, threatening
i sorrows had gone by, the reconsideration of which strength-
ened her courage for the present moment; particularly
{ was she moved by the recollection of her beautiful friend-
: ship with Makaria, and indeed under trying circumstances.
The excellence of that unique woman was again brought
to her mind, and she at once formed the resolution of
{ applying to her on this occasion also; * for to whom else
could she express her present feelings, to whom else can-
| didly avow her fears and hopes?
But in the midst of her researches she found amongst
{ other things her brother’s miniature portrait, and was
forced with a smile to sigh at its likeness to the son.
Hilaria surprised her at this moment, possessed herself of
the portrait, and she too was strangely struck with the
| resemblance.
Some time passed thus; at last, with the assent of the
| physician, and attended by him, Flavio, after having been
. announced, came in to breakfast. The women had been
afraid of this first appearance; but as it very often hap-
{ pens in important, nay, in terrible moments, that some-
thing amusing, or even ridiculous, will take place, so it
| happened here. The son came in dressed completely in
his father’s clothes; for nothing of his own suit was wear-
{ able; they had availed themselves of the major’s country

* See above, p. 193,

 
 

208 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

and home wardrobe, which he had left in his sister's
keeping in readiness for shooting or house wear. The

baroness laughed, and recovered herself; Hilaria was
startled, she knew not why; at all events she turned her

face away, and at this moment would give the youth
neither a cordial word nor a phrase of greeting. However,

in order to help the whole party out of their embarrass-

ment, the doctor began a comparison of the two figures.
The father was somewhat taller, he said, and for that
reason the coat was a little too long; the son was slightly
broader, and the coat therefore was too tight across the
shoulders. Both differences of proportion gave a comical
appearance to this disguise; yet, with these trifles, they
escaped the momentary difficulty. To Hilaria, however,
the likeness between the juvenile effigy of the father and
the fresh living presence of the son remained discom-
forting—nay, oppressive.

But now we might well have wished to see the next
interval of time circumstantially described by a woman's
delicate hand, since in our own style and manner we
venture to occupy ourselves only with the general. For
here the discourse must again be of the influence of
poetic art.

Our Flavio must be credited with a certain amount of
talent; but it needed only too much a passionate, sensual
impulse, if it was to have any striking success; and it
was on that account that almost all the poems dedicated
to that irresistible woman seemed in the highest degree
impressive and praiseworthy, and now, when read aloud
with enthusiastic delivery in the presence of a most amiable
beauty, must needs produce no little effect.

A young lady, who sees that another is loved passion-
ately, willingly accommodates herself to the rdle of a con-
fidante ; she nourishes a secret, scarcely conscious, feeling,
that it would certainly not be unpleasant to see herself
gently elevated to the place of the adored one. The con-
versation also became more and more significant. Respon-
sive poems, such as a lover likes to compose, because,
though but diffidently, he can half-and-half reply to him-
self, as from his fair one, what he himself wishes, and
what he could hardly expect to hear from her own beau-
Cuar. V.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 209

tiful lips. Such poems, too, were read alternately with
Hilaria, and in fact, as it could only be from the one
‘manuscript, into which both had to look to strike in at the
right time, and to this end both had to hold the little
volume, it so came to pass that, sitting close together,
little by little body and hand drew ever nearer, and at
| last, quite naturally, the contact was secretly maintained.

But amidst these sweet relations, in spite of the charming
delight which they caused, Flavio felt a painful anxiety,
which he concealed but ill, and longing continually for
his father’s arrival, made it evident that he had to confide
| the most important thing to him. This secret, meanwhile,
it would not have been difficult to guess with a little
| reflexion. The charming woman, in a moment of excite-
i ment, provoked by the youth’s importunities, may have
| peremptorily dismissed the unhappy one, and have banished
1 and destroyed the hope which he had hitherto obstinately
) cherished. We have not ventured to depict the scene in
i which this may have passed, from fear that the fire of
i youth might fail us here. In short, he had been so beside
| fimsolf, that he had left the garrison in haste without
| leave, and in order to find his father, he had attempted in
f despair to reach his aunt’s country house through night,
£storm, and rain,—where, too, we lately saw him arrive.
2 On the return of sober reflexion, the consequences of such
fa step occurred vividly to him, and, as his father still
{oir absent, and he would have to dispense with the

 

¢only possible mediation, he was unable either to compose

€or help himself.

| How surprised and struck he therefore felt when a letter
from his colonel was handed to him, the well-known seal

(of which he broke with hesitation and anxiety, but which,
dafter the most friendly words, ended to the effect that
{ithe leave allowed him would be prolongeds for another

tmonth.

.  Inexplicable as this favour seemed to him, still he felt
{freed thereby from a burden which began to weigh upon
‘this mind almost more painfully than even his rejected
‘love. He now thoroughly felt the happiness of being so
: fwell received by his amiable relations; he dared to rejoice
tin Hilaria’s presence, and, after a short time, recovered all

P

  
210 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Boor II.

the agreeable social qualities which for a time had ren-

dered him necessary to the beautiful widow herself as well
as to her circle, and which had been overclouded only by

his peremptory claim to her hand for ever.

In this frame of mind he could wait well enough for his
father to come, and they were stimulated into an active
way of life by natural events that intervened. The con-
tinuous rain, that up to this time had kept them together
in the castle, pouring down in torrents, had caused the
rivers everywhere to rise one after the other; dams had
burst, and the region below the castle lay like a smooth
lake, out of which the villages, farms, and country houses,
big and little, being situated upon hills, looked for all the

world like so many islands.

For such emergencies—rare enough, yet possible—people i
were prepared : the housewife gave her orders, the servants

carried them out. After the first universal rendering of

assistance, bread was baked, oxen were slaughtered, fishing-
boats rowed to and fro extending help and provisions in

all directions. Everything was carried out pleasantly and

well, what was kindly given was gladly and thankfully

received ; only at one place the distributing officials of the
commune were not trusted. Flavio undertook the duty,
and with a well-laden boat rowed quickly and safely to
the place. Transacting the simple business in a simple
manner, he succeeded completely; moreover, rowing fur-
ther, our youth discharged a commission which Hilaria

had given him at parting. Just in the midst of these

calamitous days the confinement of a woman, in whom
the good child was especially interested, had taken place.
Flavio found the patient, and took back home the thanks
of all, and hers in particular. Amidst all this there could
be no lack of things to talk of. If not one had perished,
yet there was much to tell of wonderful rescues, of strange,
of amusing, nay, even of ludicrous occurrences; many
trying circumstances were described in an interesting
manner. In short, Hilaria felt all at once an irresistible

desire to make an expedition too, to congratulate the sick’
woman, to distribute gifts, and to spend a few pleasant

hours. :
After a little opposition on the part of her good mother,

 

 

 
Crap. V.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. ” 211

Hilaria’s lively determination to try the adventure at last

prevailed, and we willingly admit that in the course of

these events, as they became known to us, we were to

‘some degree concerned, lest some danger might be hovering

here, such as shipwreck, capsizing of the boat, or mortal
peril to the fair one, and, on the youth’s part, a bold
rescue, drawing still tighter the loosely-knotted bond.
But of all this there was no question ; the expedition went
off successfully; the invalid was visited and received a
present; the doctor's company was not without a good

effect; and if here or there a little obstacle was met with,

if the appearance of a critical moment seemed to alarm the
rowers, it nevertheless all ended in a sly joke to the effect

‘that one said he had noticed in another an anxious air,

increased embarrassment, or a timid gesture. In the mean
time the mutual confidence had considerably increased ;
the habit of seeing each other, and of being together
under all conditions, had been strengthened, and the

dangerous situation—when relationship and inclination

alternately assume a right to approach and take possession
—Dbecame more and more critical.

And yet they were to be gracefully enticed still further
and further along this path of love. The sky cleared up,
and, agreeably with the season, a hard frost set in; the
waters froze before they could flow away. Then to the

eyes of all the aspect of the world was all at once changed ;
what had just been separated by the flood, was now

again connected by a hardened floor, and forthwith there
appeared, as a desirable coadjutor, that beautiful art, which
was invented in the far North, to glorify the first speedy

winter days, and to give new life to the frozen. The

lumber-room was opened, each sought his own marked
skates, anxious, even at some risk, to be the first to cross
the pure smooth expanse. Among the household there
were many who were practised to the highest degree of
activity; for almost every year they had this enjoyment
on the neighbouring lakes and connecting canals; but

this time it was on a far more extensive surface.

Flavio only now felt thoroughly well, and Hilaria, who

had had her uncle’s instruction from her earliest years,

showed herself no less charming than energetic upon the
PZ
212 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II

newly-made floor. They sped about merrily, and yet more
merrily, sometimes together, sometimes separately, some-
times apart, and sometimes hand-in-hand. Separation
and avoidance, which in general weigh so heavily on the
heart, became in this instance but small and laughable
evils; they fled each other only to meet again the next
moment.

Yet in the midst of this joy and gladness there moved
also a world of necessity. Certain places still remained
only half provided for ; swiftly now did the most necessary
articles speed to and fro upon bravely-drawn sledges, and,
what was of still more advantage to the district, from
many places that lay too far from the nearest high-road
they could now quickly transport the products of farming
and husbandry to the nearest depots of the towns and
small boroughs, and from there bring back wares of all §
kinds. Thus, all at once, an ill-fated district, suffering
the bitterest want, was once more rescued, once more
cared for, connected as it was by a smooth surface open to
the skilful and the bold.

Neither did the young couple omit, in the midst of the
ruling pastime, to call to mind many duties due to kindly
associations. The new mother was visited and supplied
with every necessary. Others, too, were visited; old
people, about whose health they were anxious; clergy-
men, with whom they had laudably been accustomed to
keep up an edifying intercourse, and whom in this present
trial they found still more worthy of esteem; small
farmers, who in past times had settled down boldly enough
in dangerous low-lying ground, but who this time being
protected by well-built dams had remained unharmed,
and after incessant alarms were doubly delighted with
their escape. Every farm, every house, every family,
nay, every single individual, had his story to tell; he had
become to himself, and often to others also, an important
personage; and so it happened that one narrator easily
fell into the groove of another. Every one hurried in
speaking, doing, coming and going, for there was always
the danger that a sudden thaw might destroy the whole
beautiful round of happy intercourse, threatening the
householders, and cutting off the guests from their homes.

 

 
Crap. V.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 213

If the day was thus occupied in swift movement, and
in the keenest interest, the evening afforded also in quite
another way the pleasantest of hours; for skating has this
advantage over all other bodily exercises, that in it effort
does not overheat, nor long continuance fatigue. The
limbs all seem to become more pliant, and every expendi-
ture of strength to generate fresh strength, so at last a
blissful, mobile state of rest comes over us, in which we
are tempted to lull ourselves for ever.

And so to-day our young couple could not tear them-
gelves away from the smooth floor; each turn towards
the lighted castle, where a large company was already
assembled, was suddenly counter-turned, and a retreat into
the distance preferred; they did not like to keep apart,
for fear of losing each other ; they held each other’s hand,
to be sure of each being there. But sweetest of all seemed
the motion when arms lay crosswise on shoulders, and
dainty fingers played unconsciously in each other’s locks.

The full moon rose in the star-bespangled firmament,
and completed the magic of the surroundings. They again
saw each other distinctly, and mutually sought, as ever,
for a response in the shaded eyes; but it seemed to be
elsewhere. From the depths of their hearts a light seemed
to beam forth, and betray what the mouth wisely forbore
to utter; they both felt themselves in a mood of quiet

J0¥-
All the high-growing willows and alders by the ditches,

each lowly shrub on the heights and hills, had become
distant; the stars glowed, the cold had increased—they
felt nothing of it, and glided along the moon’s reflexion,
leading far into the distance straight towards the heavenly
globe itself. Then they looked up, and saw in the flicker-
ing reflexion a man’s form gliding to and fro, who seemed
to be following his shadow, and dark himself, but sur-

rounded by light, to be striding towards them; involun-

tarily they turned away; to encounter anyone would be
unpleasant. They avoided the figure, that continued to
move hither and thither, and seemed not to be observed.
They pursued their direct path towards the castle; yet
all at once their quiet composure forsook them, for the
figure more than once circled round the startled couple.
214 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IT,

By chance they had reached the side in shadow; the

stranger, illuminated by the full splendour of the moon,

made straight towards them; he stood close in front of
them —it was impossible not to recognise the father.

Hilaria, stopping short, in her surprise lost her balance
and fell to the ground; Flavio at the same time dropped
on one knee, and caught her head up to his breast; she
hid her face, she did not know what had happened to her.

«I will fetch a sledge, there is one just passing below
there; here I shall look for you again, close by these
three tall alders!”

So spoke the father, and was already far off. Hilaria

gathered herself up against the youth.

«Let us fly |” she exclaimed, “for this T cannot bear

She sped hastily towards the other side of the castle, so
that Flavio was only able to overtake her with an effort;
he spoke to her in the tenderest words.

It is impossible to paint the inward state of the three
confused wanderers in the moonlight, now benighted on
the smooth surface. Enough, they arrived at the castle
late, the young couple singly, not daring to touch or
approach one another, the father with the empty sledge,
which, eager to assist her, he had driven fruitlessly far
and wide around. Music and dancing were already pro-
ceeding : Hilaria, under the pretext of painful results from
a bad fall, hid herself in her room; Flavio willingly left
the first dance and the arrangement to certain young
fellows, who in his absence had already taken them into
their hands; the major did not put in an appearance, and
thought it strange, although he was not unexpected, to
find his room as if inhabited; his own clothes, linen, and
articles lying about, only not in such good order as he
was accustomed to. The lady of the house discharged all

her duties with dignified restraint, and how glad was she.

when, all the guests being properly provided for, she at
last had leisure for an explanation with her brother. It
was soon over; but it needed time for him to recover from
his surprise, to comprehend what was so unexpected, to
remove doubts, to overcome anxiety. A solution of the

riddle, relief to the mind, was not to be thought of at

once. -

1”

 
Cuar, V.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. : 215

Our readers are probably convinced, that from this point
onward in relating our story, we must no longer proceed
by depicting, but by narrating and reflecting, if we desire
to penetrate the respective moods of the actors, upon which
everything now depends, and render them present to

our minds.

We announce therefore, in the first place, that the major,
since we lost sight of him, had been devoting his time con-
tinuously to the family business, but in this, in spite of
the beautiful simplicity in which it lay before him, he
still met with unexpected hindrances in many details.
For, in general, it is not so easy to unravel a confused
condition of long standing, and to wind all the many
tangled threads into one ball. As he had accordingly
often to change his locality, in order to push on his busi-
ness in different places and with different persons, his
sister's letters only reached him slowly and irregularly.
He first heard of his son’s distracted mental condition and
his illness; then he heard about a leave of absence, which
he did not understand. That Hilaria’s affection was on
the point of changing remained unknown to him, for how
could his sister have informed him of that? Upon the
news of the floods he hastened his journey, but only after
the frost had set in did he arrive at the ice-fields, when he
procured skates, sent servants and horses by a side-road to
the castle, and setting off at a rapid pace towards it, he
arrived, in a night as clear as day, just as he saw the
lighted windows in the distance, in time to behold a most
joyless sight, and thus had fallen into the most unpleasant
complication with himself.

The transition from inner truth to outward reality is,
in the contrast, always painful; and ought not love and
constancy to have just the same privileges as parting and
forsaking? And yet, when one person leaves another, an
awful chasm is created in the soul, in which many a heart
has before now perished. Indeed the illusion, so long as
it lasts, has an unconquerable truth, and only manly,
active spirits become elevated and strengthened by the
recognition of an error. A discovery of this kind raises
them above themselves ; they stand elevated beyond them-
selves, and seeing the old road barred, look quickly round
216 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor II.

about for a new one, which they forthwith cheerfully
and bravely enter on. Innumerable are the difficulties in
which a man in such moments finds himself involved ;
innumerable also the remedies which an inventive nature
is able to discover within its own powers, or, where these
do not suffice, to indicate, in kindly mood, outside its
own domain.

Fortunately, however, the major, without any wish or
endeavour of his own, was already half-consciously in his
inmost heart prepared for an event of this kind. Since he
had dispensed with his cosmetic valet, to abandon himself
to his natural way of life, and had ceased to make any
claims in the matter of appearance, he found himself, as
it were, curtailed in respect to physical enjoyment. He
felt the inconvenience of a transition from a first lover to
a tender father; and yet this latter part would continually
press itself more and more upon him. Anxiety as to
Hilaria’s fate and that of his own family was always
foremost in his thoughts, whilst the feeling of love, of
attachment, the desire of a still nearer presence, were only
disclosed later. And when he thought of Hilaria in his
arms, it was her happiness that he cherished, that he
longed to procure, rather than the bliss of possessing her.
Nay, if he wished purely and simply to enjoy the thought
of her, he had first to remember the divinely expressed
affection, he had first to think of that moment in which
she had so unexpectedly devoted herself to him.

But now having, on the brightest of nights, seen before
him a young couple in close conjunction, the most charming
of beings swooning in the arms of the youth, neither of
them heeding his promise of returning with assistance,
nor waiting for him at the place which he so precisely
indicated, but vanishing in the darkness, whilst he himself
was left in the most dismal state of mind: who could feel
all this and not in his heart despair?

The family, so accustomed to harmony, and hoping for
a still closer union, kept aloof from one another in dismay.
Hilaria obstinately kept her room ; the major braced him-
self to learn from his son the previous events. The mis-
fortune had been occasioned by a feminine caprice on the
part of the beautiful widow. In order not to surrender

 
Cuar. V.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 217

her hitherto passionate adorer Flavio to another amiable
woman, who betrayed designs upon him, she bestows on
him more obvious favour than is legitimate. Excited and
encouraged by this, he passionately attempts to pursue
his aim to an unreasonable extent, whence at first arises
opposition and disagreement; and at last a decisive rup-
ture irrevocably puts an end to the whole connexion.
To paternal indulgence nothing remains but to pity,
and if possible to retrieve the errors of their children,
when they have tragic consequences; but if they pass off
more smoothly than was to be hoped, to pardon and to
forget. After a little reflexion and persuasion, then,
Flavio set out for the newly-acquired possessions, to attend,
instead of his father, to a number of matters, and there
he was to remain until the expiration of his leave of
absence, when he would again have to join his regiment,
which in the meantime had been transferred to another
garrison.
To the major it was a business of several days to open
all the letters and packets that had accumulated at his
sister's house during his long absence. Among the rest he
found a letter from his cosmetical friend, the well-preserved
actor. He having been informed by the transferred valet
about the major’s situation, and his intention of marrying,
submitted to him, in the best of humours, the considera-
tions that one ought to keep in sight in such under-
takings; he treated the matter after his own fashion, and
gave as his opinion that, for a man at a certain time of
life, the surest cosmetic was to abstain from the fair sex,
and to enjoy a laudable and convenient state of freedom.
So the major, smiling, handed the note to his sister,
jokingly, it is true, yet at the same time hinting seriously

enough at the importance of its contents. Meanwhile, too,
a poem had occurred to him on this occasion, the rhythmic
expression of which does not immediately concern us, but
of which the contents were marked by happy metaphors
and elegant phraseology :

“The belated moon, still beaming chastely through the
night, pales before the rising sun; the love-dream of age
vanishes in the presence of passionate youth; the fir,

| that in the winter seems fresh and vigorous, in spring
|
|
218 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IL

looks brown and discoloured by the side of the bright-
green shoots of the birch.”

~ However, we do not wish to give any special recom-
mendation here either to philosophy or poetry as the
decisive helpmates to a final resolution; for as a trifling
circumstance may have the weightiest consequences, so
also it often decides when wavering thoughts prevail, by
inclining the balance to one side or the other. The major,
a short time before, had lost one of his front teeth, and he
was afraid of losing the other. In his present frame of
mind an obvious artificial reparation was not to be thought
of, and, with this defect, to woo a young sweetheart began to
seem altogether humiliating to him, especially now when
he found himself under the same roof with her. Earlier
or later a circumstance of this kind would have had little
effect, but such an accident happening just at this moment
must needs be in the highest degree repugnant to any
man accustomed to a sound state of health. He feels as if
the keystone of his organic being were removed, and the
rest of the arch were also threatening little by little to
fall in by degrees.

However this might be, the major very soon spoke pru-
dently and sensibly to his sister about a situation that.
seemed so confused : they had both to confess that, in point
of fact, they had reached only by a roundabout way a
goal quite near to that from which they had by accident,
through external instigation—misled by the error of an
inexperienced child—unwittingly diverged; they deter-
mined that nothing was more natural than to remain in
this path, to bring about the union of the two children,
and then to devote to them faithfully and constantly every
paternal care that it was within their power to provide.
Completely agreeing with her brother, the baroness went
to Hilaria in the room. She was sitting at the piano,
singing to an accompaniment of her own, and immediately,
with a cheerful glance and a bow, invited the visitor, who
greeted her, to listen. It was a pleasant, soothing song,
which expressed in the inger a mood that could not have
been wished better. .

After she had finished she stood up, and before the elder
lady, who was thinking, could begin her harangue, she

 
i
i
{

Car. VJ] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 219
i

‘began to speak: “Dearest mother! it was well that we
were so long silent about this most important affair; I
‘thank you for not having up to this time touched this
‘chord ; but now perhaps it is time to come to an explana-
tion, if it so pleases you. What do you think about the
| matter?”

The baroness, highly delighted at the quietness and
gentleness to which she found her daughter disposed,
‘began at once a sensible retrospect of the past time, of
‘her brother's personal qualities and merits; she granted
‘the impression, which the only man of worth—who had
ever been so familiarly acquainted with a young girl—
must necessarily make upon a free heart, and out of this
feeling, instead of childlike reverence and confidence, could
develop an inclination which manifested itself as love and
passion. Hilaria listened attentively, and by looks and
gestures of assent testified her complete agreement. The
mother passed on to the son, and the girl now cast down
her long eyelashes; and although the speaker did not find

such praiseworthy arguments in favour of the younger man
‘as she had managed to bring forward for the father, yet

'ghe dwelt chiefly on the similarity of the two, on the

advantage that youth gave him, who, if chosen as a fully
espoused companion for life, doubtless promised in time,

as was reasonable, to become a complete development of

| his father’s character. In this, too, Hilaria seemed to
think in the same way, although a somewhat more serious
glance and an eye frequently downcast betrayed an emo-
tion in this case very natural. Hereupon the conversation
turned on the external, happy, and in some measure con-
trolling, circumstances. The effected reconciliation, the
' handsome profit accruing for the present, the prospects
that enlarged themselves in many directions, all were

truthfully presented to the mind’s eye, and finally she could

| not fail to hint how Hilaria herself must remember that

she had at an earlier time been betrothed, even if it were

| only in fun, to her half-grown-up cousin. From all this
| her mother now drew the self-evident conclusion, that

 

|

| with her own and the uncle's consent, the union of the
| young people might now take place without delay.

Hilaria, looking and speaking calmly, replied, that she
220 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IL

could not allow this inference to pass forthwith, and
brought forward, admirably and gracefully, on the other
side all that a delicate mind is sure to feel in common
with her, and which we do not undertake to express in
words.

Rational people, when they have devised any sensible
plan as to how this or that embarrassment may be over-
come, how this or that end may be attained, and for this
purpose have elucidated and arranged all imaginable
arguments, will feel most disagreeably surprised when
those who ought to co-operate towards their own happi-
ness are found to be of an entirely different mind, and,
from motives lying deep in their hearts, oppose them-
selves to that which is as commendable as it is necessary.
They interchanged arguments without convincing one an-
other: the rational would not penetrate the purely senti-
mental, and feeling would not accommodate itself to the
useful, the necessary; the conversation grew warm, the
sharp edge of reason smote the already wounded heart,
which now no longer in moderation but passionately
revealed its own condition, so that at last the mother
herself withdrew dumbfoundered before the high-minded-
ness and dignity of the young girl, as she put forward,
with energy and truth, the indecency, nay, the criminality,
of such a union.

One can imagine in what a state of confusion the
baroness returned to her brother, and can probably sym-
pathise, though, it may be, not completely, with what the
major—who, flattered in his innermost soul by this decided
refusal, stood before his sister satisfied and yet hopeless
—gained from this defeat, and thus felt that he justified
* with his conscience a situation which had become to him
a matter of the most delicate honour. For the moment,
however, he concealed this state of mind from his sister,
and hid his painful satisfaction behind the remark, in this
case perfectly natural, that one must not be in too much
of a hurry, but that time must be left to the poor child to
enter of her own free will upon the path which had now
in a certain manner become a self-evident one.

But we can yet scarcely encourage our readers to pass
from these engrossing inner conditions to the external
Cuap. V.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 221

ones, upon which, however, so much now depended. Whilst
the baroness allowed her daughter every opportunity

of passing her time pleasantly with music and singing,
with drawing and embroidery, and to read alone or amuse
herself and her mother by reading aloud, the major at the
commencement of spring occupied himself in setting the

family affairs in order: the son, who looked upon himself

as in the future a rich landowner, and—he did mot in

the least doubt—as the happy husband of Hilaria, now
began to feel a military aspiration for renown and rank,
should the threatened war break out. And so they trusted
that, set at rest for the moment, they could anticipate
as a certainty that this riddle—which seemed only to
be implicated in one single misgiving—would soon be
cleared up and resolved.

Unfortunately, however, in this seeming quietude no
real satisfaction was to be found. The baroness waited
day after day, but in vain, for a change in her daughter's
disposition ; who modestly indeed, and but seldom, yet
still, on every decisive occasion, resolutely gave them to
understand that she would abide as firmly by her con-
viction as only one can do who has been inwardly convinced
of a truth, whether it is in harmony with the surrounding
world or not. The major felt a conflict within himself;
he should feel himself for ever injured if Hilaria should
really decide for his son; yet should she decide in his
own favour, he was equally convinced that he must
decline her hand.

Let us pity the good man, around whom all these cares
and troubles were flitting continuously like a moving

cloud, sometimes as a background against which arose all
‘the realities and occupations of the busy day, and some-

times drawing nearer, and overcasting all the present.
Such a sort of wavering and reeling moved before his
mind's eyes; and though daytime peremptorily summoned
him to vigorous and strenuous activity, it was in the
night-watches that all these repugnant shapes, changing
and changing again, danced round and round their dismal
circle in his mind. These ever-returning irrepressible

phantoms brought him into a condition which we might
almost call despair—since action and creation, that other-
299 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IL

wise afford the surest remedy in such circumstances, had
here scarcely any mitigating, much less any healing, effect.

In this situation our friend received from an unknown |
hand a note, with an invitation to go to the post-office of
a small neighbouring town, where a traveller, passing
through in haste, wished anxiously to speak to him. He,
accustomed in his many business and social relations to
such matters, acquiesced all the less reluctantly, inasmuch

as the free, flowing handwriting seemed in some degree

familiar. Quiet and collected, as was his wont, he betook !
himself to the indicated place, when, in the homely and
almost rustic upper-room, the beautiful widow stepped

towards him, prettier and more charming than he had

left her. Whether it be that our imagination is not capable :
of retaining what is most excellent, or of realising it again

completely, or that a state of excitement had in reality

given her a greater charm, it is enough to say, he actually re- i

   

quired a double measure of self-control to hide his astonish-

ment and confusion under the show of common politeness;
he greeted her with restraint and embarrassed coldness. *

“ Not thus, my dearest friend!” she exclaimed. “It is
by no means for this that I have summoned you to a

meeting between these whitewashed walls, amidst these
most ignoble surroundings; a house so meanly appointed

as this does not demand such a courtly style of address.
I relieve my breast of a heavy burden when I say, when 1
admit, that I have caused a great deal of mischief in your
house.” :

The major faltered and stepped back.

«I know all,” she continued, “we need no explanation;
you and Hilaria, Hilaria and Flavio, your kind sister—I
pity all of you.”

Speech seemed to fail her; the most lovely eyelashes
could not hold back the tears that gushed forth; her
cheeks reddened, she was more beautiful than ever. The
worthy man stood before her in the utmost confusion ; he
was penetrated by an unknown emotion.

“Let us sit down,” said this most amiable creature,
drying her eyes. ‘Forgive me, pity me! You see how
I am punished.” She again held her embroidered kerchief
to her eyes, and concealed how bitterly she wept. ~~

 

ih
Tay
.Cuar. V.] THE MAN OF FIFTY. 223

“But, explain, gracious madam!” he said with haste.

“No more of gracious!” she replied, with a heavenly
smile, “call me your friend —you have not a more faithful
one; and so, my friend, I know all—I know exactly the
position of the whole family, I am aware of the inclina-
tions and sorrows of them all.”

“ Who could have informed you to this extent?”

«Personal confessions. This hand cannot be strange to
you.” She showed him several unfolded letters. :

“My sister's hand! Letters, several, and, to judge by
the careless writing, confidential ones! Have you ever
had any relations with her?” r

“ Not directly ; but indirectly, for some time. Look here
at the address. To ....”

« Another riddle! To Makaria, the most discreet of
- women.”

“But on that account, too, the confidant, the confessor
of all oppressed souls, of all who have lost themselves,
who wish to find themselves again, and do not know
where.”

“ Thank God!” he exclaimed, ‘ that such a remedy has
been found. It would not have befitted me to beg her
intercession : I bless my sister for having done it; for'I
too know of instances in which this excellent woman, by
holding up a moral magic mirror, has shown to some
unfortunate or other his pure, fair, inner being through
the confused outward form, and, reconciling him first with
himself, summoned him to a new existence.”

“This benefit she also conferred on me,” replied the
beauty. :

And at this moment our friend felt, and even if it was
not quite clear to him, felt distinctly that from this
remarkable person, otherwise wrapped up in her indi-
vidual exclusiveness, there shone forth a morally beautiful,
sympathising, and consoling personality.

«1 was not unhappy, but ill at ease,” she continued ;
“I no longer belonged properly to myself, and that, after
all, is equivalent to not being happy. I no longer pleased
myself; pose myself as I would before the looking-glass,
it always seemed to me as if I were dressing-up for a
masquerade; but since she held up the mirror before me,
  

224 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor II.

since I became aware how one can adorn oneself from
within, I am again well satisfied with my looks.” This
she said between smiling and weeping, and was, it must
be admitted, more than amiable. She seemed worthy of
esteem, and worthy of a lasting, faithful attachment.

« And now, my friend, let us be brief: here are the
letters; to read them, and read them again, to reflect, to
prepare yourself, you would need at all events an hour
—longer if you wish ; then our respective positions can be
determined with few words.” :

She left him, to walk up and down in the garden; he
now unfolded a correspondence between the baroness and
Makaria, the contents of which we indicate summarily.
The former complained of the beautiful widow. It is
evident how one woman looks on and severely judges
another. In point of fact the question is only about out-
ward matters and about expressions, there is no reference
to what is within. Then on Makaria’s part a milder
judgment ; the description of such a being from within
outwards. The outward form appears as a result of con-
tingencies hardly to be blamed, perhaps to be excused.
Now the baroness describes the raving and madness of the
son, the growing attachment of the young couple, tells of
the arrival of the father, Hilaria’s determined non-com-
pliance. Everywhere Makaria’s replies are pure impar-
tiality, derived from the well-founded conviction, that out
of all this, moral improvement must ensue. Finally, she
despatches the whole correspondence to the beautiful
woman, whose mind, fair as heaven, is now revealed, and
begins to glorify her outward being. The whole concludes
with a grateful reply to Makaria.

 
(225)

CHAPTER VI.

Wilhelm to Lenardo.

| 4 AT last, dearest friend, I can say she is found, and, for

your peace of mind, I may add, in a position in which
nothing further remains to be wished for for her well-

| being. Let me speak in a general way: I am still writing
| from the place and spot where I have before my eyes
| everything of which I have to give an account.

“ A domestic condition, grounded in piety, inspired and
maintained by industry and order, not too narrow, not too
wide, but in the happiest proportion to her capacities and
powers. Around her is busy a circle of hand-workers, in
the purest, most primitive sense ; here reign limitation and

far-reaching effect, caution and moderation, innocence and
activity. 1 have not often found myself in a pleasanter

situation, over which a brighter prospect for the morrow
and for the future impends. This, regarded as a whole,
might well be sufficient to set every sympathiser at
Test.

«I may, therefore, in remembrance of all that has been
discussed between us, most urgently beg that my friend
will be satisfied with general description, and at all events
fill it up in his thoughts; while, on the other hand, he
renounces all further inquiry, and devotes himself as ener-
getically as possible to the great business of life, into
which by this time he will probably be perfectly
initiated.

“I send a duplicate of this letter to Hersilia, and the
other to the Abbé,* who I presume knows most certainly
where you are to be found. To this tried friend, in matters

* See ¢ Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship,” several of the characters
in which now reappear occasionally.
Q
226 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL 1

secret or open always equally to be relied on, I write

something further, which he will tell you; I beg you
particularly, as far as IT am myself concerned, to look upon
me with sympathy, and further my undertaking with
pious and true good-will.”

Wilhelm to the Abbé,

«Tf I am not altogether mistaken, our most estimable
Lenardo is at present in your midst, and I therefore send
the duplicate of a letter, in order that it may be more
certain to reach him. May this excellent young man,
within your circle, be drawn into an uninterrupted,
efficient activity, now that, as I hope, his inner being is
tranquillized.

« As to myself, after a protracted and active self-effected
test, I am now able to repeat still more earnestly my
request, proffered through Montan long ago; the wish to
complete my travel-years with more composure and steadi-
ness becomes more and more urgent. In the confident
hope that they would give heed to my representations, I
have completely prepared myself, and made my plans.
After the completion of the business to the advantage of
my worthy friend, I may probably now be permitted to
enter with fresh courage upon my further career, under
the conditions already stated. As soon as I have com-
pleted one more pious pilgrimage, I intend to arrive at
At this place I hope to find your letters, and in
accordance with my inward impulse to begin afresh.”

 

 

 

 
(227)

CHAPTER VIL

[Ix the earlier edition of the ¢ Wanderjahre * (ch. xii.) occurs a letter,
which is necessary for the due understanding of what follows. In it
Hersilia informs Wilhelm that the beautiful widow and Hilaria—
whose story, under the title of the Man of Fifty, she at the same
time transmits to him—are at present travelling, and recommends
him to seek them out. She continues, “ To show you the way how
this amiable pair may be met with on your wandering, I adopt a
singular expedient. You herewith receive a little clipping of a
map : when you lay this in its place on the full map of the country,
the magnetic needle painted here will point with its barb to the
spot whither the Desirable are moving. . . . This arrow-shaft, on
the little patch of map, Hilaria herself was at the pains to draw,
and to decorate with such dainty plumage: the sharp point, how
ever, was the fair Widow’s work. Have a care that it do not scratch,
or perhaps pierce you. Our bargain is, that whenever you meet, be
this where it may, you are forthwith to present the small shred of
paper, and so be the sooner and more heartily admitted into
trust.”

In the next chapter (ch. xiii.) we read, “ The wanderer now tried
on a large map the little fragment which had been sent him; and
stood surprised, amazed, affrighted, as he saw the needle pointing
straight to Mignon’s native place, to the houses where she had
lived. What his peculiar feelings were, we do not find declared ;
but whoever can bring back to memory the end of the ¢ Apprentice-
ship,” will in his own heart and mind, without difficulty, call forth
the like.” *—ED.]

ArTER our friend had despatched the above letters, he
went wandering on through many a neighbouring moun-
tain range, further and further, until the glorious lowland
opened out before him, where, ere the beginning of a new

* The above extracts are from Carlyle’s excellent translation, to
which the reader who wishes to compare the two editions of this work
is referred.

Q 2
228 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL 1

life, he purposed to bring so much to completion. He
here fell in unexpectedly with a young and lively travel-
ling companion, who was destined to prove in many ways
conducive to his aims and his enjoyment. He finds himself
in the company of a painter, who, like many of the same
sort in the real world, and many more who pervade and
haunt novels and dramas, this time turned out to be an
excellent artist. The two soon suit each other, and mutually
confide their inclinations, aims, and plans; and it now
comes out that the clever artist, who was skilled in exe-
cuting water-colour landscapes with finely-conceived, well- =

drawn, and well-finished figures, was passionately interested 4

in the fate, form, and character of Mignon. He had already
represented her often, and was now undertaking a journey i
to draw from nature the surroundings amidst which she
had lived, and to represent here the amiable child in her
happy and unhappy surroundings and moods, and thus to
summon her image, which lives in all tender hearts, before
the sense of sight as well.

The friends ‘soon arrived at the great lake.* Wilhelm

 

endeavours to find out, one by one, the places which had 1

been indicated to him. Splendid villas, extensive monasteries,
ferries, creeks, capes, and landing-places were sought out,
and the habitations of the bold and good-humoured fisher-
men were no more neglected than the cheerful little towns
built on the shore, and the castles on the neighbouring
hills. All this the artist is able to grasp and harmonize =
through light and colour with the mental mood which =
their story in every case evoked, so that Wilhelm spent
his days and hours in absorbing emotion.

On several sheets Mignon was represented in the fore-
ground as she loved and lived, whilst Wilhelm was able =
to assist the happy imagination of his friend by exact
description, and to reduce the more general idea into the
narrower limits of individuality. And thus one beheld =
the boy-girl presented in all manner of positions and
meanings. She stood beneath the lofty portico of the
splendid villa, thoughtfully contemplating the statues in

* Lago Maggiore, with the Borromean Islands, as Goethe expressly

declared to Eckermann. Jean Paul introduces Isola Bella with some ]
success in his ¢ Titan ’ without having seen it.—D. ]
Cuar. VII.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 229

the hall. Here she was rocking herself and splashing
in the boat fastened to the bank, there she was climbing
the mast, and showing herself a bold sailor.

Yet one painting there was that excelled all the others,
which the artist on his journey hither, before he met Wil-
helm, had conceived with every characteristic lineament.
In the midst of a rude mountain-tract the graceful feigned-
boy shines forth, surrounded by precipitous rocks, be-
sprinkled by waterfalls, amongst a troop of people difficult
to describe. Never, perhaps, has an overawing and rugged
primeval mountain-chasm been represented in a more
charming or more impressive manner. The motley, gipsy-
like company, rade and fantastic at the same time, strange
and mean, too extravagant to inspire fear, too uncommon
to awaken confidence. Strong pack-horses, now along
winding-paths, now down steps hewn in the rock, slowly
bring down a motley and miscellaneous assortment of
baggage, among which a whole collection of instruments
of noisy music, dangling and clattering about from time
to time, molest the ear with discordant tones. In the
midst of all this the amiable child, absorbed in herself,
without disdain—unwilling, yet unresisting—taken, yet
not forced away. Who would not have been pleased with
so remarkable and complete a picture? The grim proxi-
mity of these rocky masses, the black chasms cutting
through all, was powerfully characteristic, towering
together, and threatening to prevent all exit, had not a
bold bridge pointed to the possibility of effecting commu-
nication with the outer world. The artist, too, with a
truly poetical sense of reality, had made discernible a
cave, that might have been taken for nature’s own factory
of mighty crystals, or the abode of a fabulous and terrible
dragon’s brood.

Not without a holy shudder did the friends visit the
palace of the marquis; the old man had not as yet returned
from his journey; but in this locality also—since they
knew how to ingratiate themselves with the spiritual and
civil authorities—they were received and treated kindly.
Wilhelm, however, found the absence of the master of the
house very agreeable; for although he would have liked
to see the worthy man again, and heartily greet him,
ow WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

still he felt afraid of his grateful liberality, and indeed
of any compulsory acknowledgment of that true and
loving service for which he had already received the most
delicate return. :

And thus in graceful skiffs the friends were drifted from
shore to shore, crossing the lake in every direction. In
this, the fairest season of the year, neither sunrise nor
sunset escaped them, nor any of those thousand hues with
which the heavenly light lavishly overspreads its firma-
ment, and lake and earth therefrom, and only fully glori-
fies itself in its own reflexion.

A luxuriant vegetation, sown broadcast by nature, tended
and fostered by art, surrounded them on every side. The
first chestnut forests had already bidden them welcome,
and now they could not refrain from a melancholy smile,
‘when, resting beneath cypresses, they beheld the laurel
growing, the pomegranate reddening, oranges and lemons
unfolding their buds, whilst fruit at the same time glowed
forth from the dusky foliage.

By the help of his cheerful companion there arose even
a fresh delight for Wilhelm. Nature had not given our
old acquaintance a painter’s eye. Susceptible to visible
beauty only in human form, he suddenly found that,
through a friend of like disposition, but framed for quite
other enjoyments and activities, the world around was
opened up to him. we: :

In verbal remarks on the changing glories of the
country, but still more by a concentrated imitation, his
eyes were opened, and he was relieved from all the doubts
that he had hitherto obstinately cherished. The represen-
tations of Italian landscapes had always seemed suspicious
to him; the sky seemed to him too blue, the violet tints
of enchanting distances, surpassingly lovely, it might be,
yet untrue; and the many shades of bright green too
variegated ; but now, from his inmost mind, he identified
himself with his new friend, and, susceptible as he was,
learned to look at the world with his eyes, and whilst
nature disclosed the open secret of her beauty, he was fain
to feel an unconquerable longing after art as her most
worthy exponent.

But quite unexpectedly his friend the painter showed

 

Bice i oi

 
| Car. VIL] WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 231

|

himself to him from a different side: he had many a time
struck up a merry song, and thereby enlivened and solaced

© the quiet hours of their lake voyages far and wide; but

|
|

now it happened that, in one of the palaces, he found a
peculiar kind of stringed instrument, a lute, of small

dimensions, strong, of good tone, convenient and portable ;

he was able to tune the instrument at once, and to handle
it so happily and agreeably, and to amuse his hearers so
well, that, like another Orpheus, he softened the otherwise
severe and dry custodian of the castle, and compelled him
in a kindly way to entrust the instrument to the singer

for a time, on condition that he would faithfully return

the same before his departure, and also in the interval
would come now and then on a Sunday or holiday and
entertain the family.

Lake and shore were now enlivened in quite a different
way. Boats and skiffs would court their neighbourhood,

even freight- and market-boats lingered near them, rows

of people gathered on the shore. On landing, they saw
themselves at once surrounded by a merry crowd; when
they put off, everybody blessed them, contented, yet with
a sense of longing.

Now a third person, observing the friends, could easily
have seen that the mission of both was in point of fact
at an end ; all the scenes and localities relating to Mignon
had been drawn, some put in in light shade and colour,
and some faithfully copied in the hot hours of the day.
To accomplish this, they had in a peculiar fashion been
moving from place to place, for Wilhelm’s vow was often
a hindrance to them; yet they occasionally managed to
avoid it by the excuse that it only held good on land, and
was not applicable on the water.

Wilhelm, too, felt himself that their real intention had
been attained, but he could not deny to himself that the
wish to see Hilaria and the beautiful widow had still to
be satisfied, if he was to leave this region with his mind
at ease. ilis friend, to whom he had confided the story,
was not less curious, and already congratulated himself in
remembering a splendid position still vacant and unas
signed in one of his drawings, which he proposed to fill up
artistically with the forms of such charming persons.
232 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

They now set out on expeditions here and there and

everywhere, watching the points at which a stranger is
accustomed to enter this paradise. They had acquainted
their boatmen with their hope of seeing friends here, and
it was no long time before they saw gliding towards them
a finely ornamented state-boat, to which they gave chase,
and did not refrain from ardently capturing at once. The
ladies, somewhat astonished, recovered at once, when
Wilhelm showed them the small piece of paper, and both
without hesitation recognised the arrow that had been
drawn by themselves on the top. The friends were soon
confidently invited to mount into the ladies’ boat, which
was quickly done. >

And now let anyone picture to himself the four as they
sit opposite to one another, in the loveliest retreat, in a
world of bliss, fanned by soft air-breath, rocked to and
fro on shining waves. Let us fancy to ourselves the two
ladies, as we have seen them but recently described ; the
two men, with whom for weeks we have been leading a
common life of travel : and we see them, after brief con-
sideration, together in the most charming although most
dangerous situation. For the three who already, willingly
or unwillingly, have numbered themselves amongst the
Renunciants, we need not fear the worst; the fourth,
however, might only too soon see himself received into
that order.

After they had several times crossed the lake, and pointed
out the most interesting localities both of the shore and of
the islands, the ladies were taken towards the place where
they were to pass the night, and where an able guide, who
had been engaged for this tour, managed to provide all
desirable comforts. Under these circumstances, Wilhelm’s
vow became a suitable albeit an inconvenient kind of
master of the ceremonies; for at this very station the
friends had recently spent three days, and exhausted
everything noteworthy in the neighbourhood. The artist,
who was not hampered by any pledge, was about to beg
permission to accompany the ladies on shore, but they
declined it, for which reason they parted company at a
little distance from the landing-place.

Hardly had the minstrel sprung into his boat and put

 

 
{
|
{

Cur. VII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 233

off hastily from the shore, when he seized his lute, and
| began charmingly to sing that strangely plaintive song
' that the Venetian gondoliers are wont to make resound
from shore to lagoon, from lagoon to shore. Sufficiently
practised in such exercise, in which on this occasion he
succeeded with singular tenderness and expression, he
proportionately strengthened his tone with the increasing
distance, so that on the shore one fancied that the depart-
ing singer was heard continuously from the same distance.
At last he laid down the lute, trusting to his voice alone,
and had the pleasure of observing that the ladies, instead
of withdrawing into the house, preferred to linger on the
shore. He felt so inspired, that he could not leave off,
even when night and distance at last veiled the sight of
every object; until at last his calmer friend made him
observe, that even if darkness favoured the sound, yet the
boat had long passed the circle within which it could have
any effect. According to appointment, the next day they
again met on the open lake. As they glided along they
' familiarized themselves with the beautiful series of re-
 markably situated prospects sometimes to be seen in one
| row, sometimes hiding one another, which, doubling them-
selves, as it were, in the water, afford to the passers on
the bank the most varied kind of pleasure. At the same
time the artistic imitations allowed one to suspect and
suppose on the paper, what during the day’s voyage one
had failed to see immediately. For all this the quiet
Hilaria seemed to possess a ready and beautiful appre-
ciation.
But now towards noon the marvellous appeared again ;
the ladies landed alone, the men cruised in front of the
harbour. The singer now attempted to adapt his delivery
to such a degree of proximity, that some sort of happy
effect might be hoped for, not simply from a tender and
quickly modulated ordinary tone of longing, but from
cheerful alluring importunity. Thus it happened that
ofttimes one or other of those songs, for which we are
indebted to the beloved persons of the Apprenticeship,
would hover about the strings and lips; still, he restrained
himself from a well-meant sense of forbearance, of which
he himself stood in need, and revelled rather in foreign
234 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IL

images and feelings, to the advantage of his performance,
which thereby became all the more winning. The two
friends, blockading the port in this manner, would pro-
bably not have thought of eating or drinking, if their
thoughtful lady-friends had not sent over a few dainty
dishes, which, with a draught of choice wine that accom-
panied them, were relished to the utmost. a

Every separation, every limitation which obstructs our
germinating passions, sharpens instead of subduing them; §
and this time too, it may be supposed, that the short
absence only awakened a similar longing on both sides.

At all events, the ladies in their dazzlingly gay gondola =
~ were very soon seen to approach again. The term gon- &
dola, however, must not here be taken in its melancholy &
Venetian sense; here it denotes a joyous, convenient, 5

pleasant bark, that, had our small circle been doubled,
would still have proved sufficiently capacious. 4

In this peculiar way, between meeting and parting, =
separating and remaining together, several days were 5
spent; in the enjoyment of the most cheerful society, ¥
separation and renunciation hovered ever before the §
agitated soul. 1

In the presence of the new friends the older ones were
recalled to mind : if the new ones were missed, it must be
confessed that they too had succeeded in establishing strong =
claims to remembrance. Only a self-possessed, tried spirit
like our beautiful widow could, at such a juncture, fully
maintain her balance of mind. Hilaria’s heart was too

deeply wounded for it to have been capable of receiving a =

fresh and pure impression; but when the charm of a
glorious country soothingly surrounds us, when the ten-
derness of sympathetic friends works upon us, then does
something quite singular come over our mind and sense,
which, as in a dream, recalls to us the past, the absent,
and spirits away the present, as if it were but a phantom.
And so, rocked alternately backwards and forwards,
attracted and sundered, brought nearer together and
farther apart, they ebbed and flowed for several days.

Without scrutinizing these relations more closely, the =
clever and experienced guide thought that he observed
some alteration in the hitherto restful demeanour of his

 
Crap. VII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 235

heroines; and when at last the whim-fostering condition
of affairs was evident to him, he was able to remedy it in
the pleasantest possible way. For just as the ladies were
about to be taken back again to the spot where their meal
would be made ready for them, they were encountered
by another gaily-decked vessel, which, coming alongside
theirs, invitingly displayed a well-spread table, with all
the luxuries of a festive meal. They could now out-
wait together the lapse of several hours, and night only
decreed the inevitable parting.

Fortunately the two male friends on their earlier expe-
ditions had, from a certain natural whim, neglected to
visit the very island that was the most beautiful of all,
and had not even now thought of showing their lady
friends the treasures preserved there—which were by no
means in the best condition—until the glorious world of
beauty had been completely exhausted. But at last a
different light dawned upon them. The guide was taken
into their confidence. He managed to expedite this excur-
sion at once, and they looked forward to it as a most
blissful one. Now might they hope and expect, after so
many interrupted pleasures, to spend three whole heavenly
days, brought together in one secluded domain. :

Here we must give special commendation to the guide:
he was one of those active, industrious experts, who in
conducting different parties of gentlefolk often traverse the
same roads: perfectly well acquainted with all comforts
and discomforts, they know how to avail themselves of the
former and how to avoid the latter, and without neglect
of their own interests, are capable of guiding their
patrons through the country more cheaply and satisfac-
torily than would be the case if the latter depended on
themselves. :

At the same time a lively company of female attendants
on the ladies came for the first time effectively and indus-
triously to the front, so that the beautiful widow could
now make it a condition that the two friends should
remain as her guests, and content themselves with modest
entertainment. In this matter, too, everything turned out
most favourably; for their clever manager had on this
occasion, as on others before, managed to make such a
236 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IL

discreet use of their letters of recommendation and credit, 1 :

that, in the owner’s absence, castle and garden, and kitchen =

no less, were open for use at their discretion, and even

some prospect of the cellar was left. Everything fell =
together so harmoniously, that from the first moment they =

must fain feel as much at home as the native lords of this :
paradise. i

The collective baggage of all our travellers was forth- =
with brought to the island—a source of great comfort to =
the party—but the greatcst advantage thereby attained =
was that, all the portfolios of our excellent artist being =
for the first time collected together, he had an opportunity =
of making present to the fair ladies in unbroken sequence =

 

the route that he had taken. They took up his work with =
delight—not as amateurs and artists mutually eulogize 3
each other; in this case an excellent man received the most
sympathetic, the most appreciative applause. But, that we =
may not incur the suspicion of only wishing, in general =
phrases, to palm off on credulous readers what we cannot =
lay before them, let us set down here the verdict of an =
expert, who several years later lingered admiringly over =
the works in question, as well as others of equal and
similar merit.

“He succeeds in representing the cheerful repose of calm
lake-prospects, where habitations in friendly nearness,
mirrored in the clear flood, appear as it were to bathe
within it; shores girt with green-clad hills, behind which
mountains of forest and icy glacier-peaks rear themselves.
The colour-tone of such scenes is cheerful, joyously clear;
the distances, as it were, diffused with mellowing vapour,
which mounts in grey enwrapping mist from torrents in
chasm and valley, and indicates their winding courses.
No less is the master’s art to be praised in views from
valleys lying nearer to the mountain heights, where
luxuriously clothed hill-sides slope down, and fresh streams
rush swiftly on at the foot of the rocks.

“He is exceedingly clever at indicating satisfactorily,
in the wide-spreading trees of the foreground, the differing
character of the various sorts, as much in the form of the
whole as in the lay of the branches and the several por-
tions of the leaves; not less in the fresh many-shaded

 
|

|
i

|

i
|

Cuap. VII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 237

foliage in which soft breezes seem to fan with gentle
breath, and the flickering lights to be moved thereby.
«In the middle distance the fresh green tone fades

gradually away, and mingles itself in the pale violet of

distant mountain heights with the blue of the sky. But

above all onr artist succeeds in representations of higher
~ Alpine regions; the simple grandeur and repose of their
character, the pastures spread out on the slope of the
mountains, clad with the freshest green, where dark

solitary firs stand out from the turfy carpet, and foaming
torrents hurl themselves from the lofty rocky walls.
Whether he peoples the pastures with grazing kine, or
the narrow mountain-path that winds around the rocks
with laden baggage-horses and mules, he indicates all

with equal truth and talent; always introduced in the

| proper place and in not too great a number, they heighten
and enliven these pictures, without destroying or even
lessening their peaceful loneliness. The execution bears

witness to the boldness of a master-hand—easy, with a

few confident strokes, and yet complete. Later he was
"accustomed to employ brilliant English permanent colours

Nr

on paper, consequently these pictures are especially
bright in colour, cheerful, but at the same time strong
and solid.

« His pictures of deep rocky ravines, where, all around,
naught but dead stone confronts us, and the wild torrent,
boldly o’er-spanned by bridges, hurls itself into the chasm,
do not, it is true, please us like the preceding, yet their
truthfulness takes hold upon us; we marvel at the grand
effect of the whole, brought out at the least expenditure,
by a few significant touches, and masses of local colour.

“He knows how to represent no less characteristically
the high mountain districts, where neither tree nor shrub
is any longer found, but only sunny patches, covered with
tender grass, between rocky crags and snow-covered sum-
mits. But beautifully in their hazy green, and invitingly
as he has coloured these spots, yet he has rightly omitted
to people them with pasturing flocks, for such tracts afford
only fodder to the chamois and a dangerous booty to the
wild-haymen.”

We shall not go beyond the object of bringing the con-
238 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL 4

dition of such wild districts as near to our readers as
possible if we briefly explain the expression, wild-hay-
men,” of which we have just made use. By it are indicated =
the poorer dwellers in the uplands, who make it their
business to make hay upon the grassy slopes which are =
utterly inaccessible to cattle. For this purpose they climb,
with clamps on their feet, the steepest and most perilous
cliffs, or, when it is necessary, let themselves down with: 3
ropes from rocky heights to the grassy plots described. a
When they have cut the grass, and it is dried into hay,
they cast it from the mountain heights into the deep
valley below, where it is again collected and sold to the
owners of cattle, who willingly buy it on account of its
excellent quality.

These pictures, which must indeed have pleased and
attracted everyone, were regarded by Hilaria especially
with great attention. Her remarks showed that she was
herself no stranger to this pursuit; and from the artist
least of all did this remair concealed, for by no one had
he seen himself better appreciated than by this most
charming of all people. Her elder friend, therefore, was
no longer silent, but blamed Hilaria for hesitating now
as always to come forward with her own accomplishment.
It was not a question now of being vraised or blamed, but
of learning ; a more favourable opportunity would perhaps
never be found again.

Now, for the first time, when she was compelled to
produce her sketches, it became manifest what talent lay
hidden behind this quiet, most attractive personality. Her
capacity was inborn, fostered by diligent practice. She
possessed a true eye, and a delicate hand, such as fits
women in their ordinary ornamental and fancy-work for
higher kinds of art. A certain unsteadiness in the
strokes was indeed noticeable, and consequently a not
sufficiently-marked character in the subjects; but one was
quite enough surprised at the great industry shown in
the execution, although the whole was not grasped in the
most advantageous manner, nor quite artistically com-
posed. It seemed as if she were afraid of desecrating the
subject, unless she kept quite faithfully to it; consequently
she is strained, and loses herself in detail. -

  
 

 

BE hh is J
 Cmap. VII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 239

|
| Now, however, by the help of the great unfettered
talent, the bold hand of the artist, she feels herself aroused,
and whatever perception and taste was truly slumbering
within her awakened. She perceives that she has only
to take courage, and follow earnestly and literally certain
axioms which the artist had commended to her, at the
same time urging them thoroughly and in a kindly
manner. Sureness of stroke is acquired; she gradually
pays less attention to the parts than to the whole, and
thus the fairest capacity developes unwittingly into ability;
as a rosebud which in the evening we heedlessly pass by,
on the morrow bursts forth with the sunrise before our
‘eyes, so that we imagine that we can see with our very

eyes the living tremulousness that the glorious apparition
| gives forth towards the light.

Such esthetic cultivation, too, did mot rest without
moral result; for a perception of the deepest gratitude
towards anyone to whom we are indebted for any decided
instruction makes a magical impression on a pure soul.
On this occasion it was the first joyous feeling that had
arisen in Hilaria’s heart for a considerable time. To see
the glorious world before her the first time for so many
days, and now to feel the gift of more perfectly repre-
senting it suddenly acquired! What delight to approach
in lines and colours more near to the inexpressible! She
felt herself surprised with new youth, and could not with-
hold a special kindliness from the man to whom she owed
this happiness.

So they were sitting by one another: it would have
been difficult to say whether he were the quicker in im-
parting artistic gains or she in grasping and exercising
them. The happiest rivalry, such as is seldom kindled
between scholar and master, arose. Many a time the
friend seemed to wish to modify her drawing with some
decisive stroke, but she, gently declining, hastened to do at
once what he wanted or what was necessary, and always
in such a way as to astonish him.’ id

The lovely widow in the meanwhile was walking with
Wilhelm beneath cypresses and pines along terraces trel-
lised now with vines, now with orange-trees, and at length
could not refrain from satisfying the gently expressed
240 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IL

wish of her new friend. She was fain to declare to him §

the wonderful straits through which two friends, severed aq

from former ties, and closely drawn towards each other,
had been sent out into the world. 8

Wilhelm, who was not wanting in the gift of taking
accurate note of things, afterwards wrote out the melan-
choly story, and we purpose presently to impart it to our
readers as he compiled it, and sent it to Natalia through
Hersilia.

The last evening was now come, and a brilliantly clear
full-moon made imperceptible the transition from day to
night. The party had seated themselves together upon
one of the highest terraces in order to look completely and
clearly across the breadth of the quiet lake, with the
shining lights on all sides again reflected from it, though
its full length was in part concealed.

Whatever in such circumstances might be talked of,
it was impossible not to notice what has been noticed
hundreds of times; once more to tell the beauties of this
sky, this water, this world, under the influence of a powerful
sun, a gentle moon—nay, to recognise them in an exclusive
and lyric sense. :

But what was not confessed, what they would scarce
acknowledge to themselves, was that deeply painful feeling
that thrilled in each bosom; more or less strongly it may
be, yet alike true and tender in all. The foreboding
of separation spread over the whole party; a gradually
increasing silence was becoming almost painful.

Then did the singer man himself, and make up his
mind ; as he preluded pewerfully upon his instrument, he
was unmindful of the forbearance previously so well ob-
served. Before him hovered the image of Mignon, with
the first tender song of the sweet child. Borne beyond
limits in his emotion, and awaking the tuneful strings
with passionate touch, he began to chant,

 

« Know’st thou the land where the fair citron blows?” #

Hilaria suddenly moved, stsod up, and moved away,
veiling her brow; our lovely widow moved one hand

* See ¢ Wilhelm Meister,” also Goethe's Poems, p. 95.

 

 
Cpar. VII] WILHELM MEISTER’'S TRAVELS. 241

warningly towards the singer, whilst she grasped Wil-
helm’s arm with the other. The youth, really distracted,
followed Hilaria ; her more self-possessed friend drew
Wilhelm quietly behind the two. And now, as all four
stood opposite each other in full moonlight, the general
emotion could no longer be hidden. The ladies threw
themselves into each others’ arms, the men embraced each
other, and Luna was witness to the noblest and chastest
tears. At last some composure slowly returned. They
disengaged themselves in silence, with strange feelings
and wishes, from which, however, hope was already dis-
severed. And now our artist, whom his friend drew
away with him, beneath the high heavens in the solemn
kindly hours of night, felt himself initiated in all the
‘pains of the first grade of the Renunciants, which those
| friends had already passed, though they now saw them-
"selves in danger of being again put painfully to the
proof.
It was late when the young men betook themselves to
rest, and awaking betimes in the early morning, they took
heart, believing themselves strong enough for a farewell
to this Paradise; and devising many plans as to how they
might at all events make it possible, without violation of
duty, to linger in this pleasant neighbourhood.
They were thinking of bringing their projects to this end
into effect, when they were astonished by the news that the
ladies had already departed at the first appearance of day-
light. A letter in the handwriting of our Queen of Hearts
told them the rest. It was doubtful whether common sense
or goodness, affection or friendship, recognition of merit
or gentle, bashful partiality was most expressed therein.
Unhappily the conclusion contained the hard condition,
that they should neither follow the two friends, nor seek
them out anywhere—ray, if they should meet accidentally,
that they should faithfully avoid each other.

Now was this Paradise converted, as if by a stroke of
magic, into a complete desert for the two friends; and
assuredly they would have laughed themselves, if it had
been clear to them at the moment, how wrongly and
thanklessly they were, all at once, disposed towards such
bautiful and remarkable surroundings. No self-seeking

R

 
  

242 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor II,

hypochondriac would so keenly and enviously have re- =
sented and abused the ruin of the buildings, the dilapida-
tion of the walls, the storm-beaten towers, the grassy =
growth on the walks, the decay of the trees, the mossy |
mouldering of the artificial grottoes, and aught else of the
same sort that was noticeable. Meanwhile they recovered
themselves as well as was possible; our artist carefully =
packed up his work, and the two got on board their boat.
Wilhelm accompanied him to the upper portion of the
lake, whence the other, according to previous arrange-
ment, started on his way to Natalia, to transport her, by
the aid of his beautiful landscapes, into regions which
probably she would not soon visit. At the same time he =
was authorised to narrate, in confessing the unexpected
incident, how he had come into a position to be received
most cordially by the guild-brethren of Renunciation, and =
by kindly treatment to be, if not healed, at any rate =
comforted. .

Lenardo to Wilhelm.

“Your letter, my dearest friend, found me in a state of
activity, which I might call confusion if the end were not
so great, and its attainment so sure. The association with =
your friends is of more importance than either side could =
imagine. I dare not begin to write about it, because it is
at once obvious how unfathomable the whole is, how
unspeakable the union. Doing, without talking, must
now be our watchword. A thousand thanks for showing
me, half-veiled in the distance, so charming a secret. |
I congratulate the good creature on a situation of such
simple happiness, whilst a whirlpool of complications, *
though not without a guiding star, will drive me round =
and round. The abbé undertakes to tell you the rest. I 1
must think only of what presses: longing vanishes in
doing and effecting, You have—but no more now, .
where there is enough to do, there remains no room for
reflexion.” :
Cuar. VII.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 243

The Abbé to Wilhelm.

« A little more, and your well-meant letter—quite in op-

position to your intention—would have been highly detri-
mental to us. The picture of the refound one is so genial
and charming, that our wonderful friend would probably
have thrown up everything in order to seek her out at
once, if our now concerted plans had not been so great
and far-reaching. But he has now withstood the trial,
and it is well assured that he is fully penetrated by the im-
portance of the matter, and feels himself drawn away from
everything else, and to this end alone.
f “In this our new relationship, for the introduction of
which we have to thank you, have appeared, on closer
inquiry, far greater advantages for him, as well as for us,
than one would have thought. For it happens that
through a region less favoured by nature, where a part of
the property which his uncle cedes to him is situate, a
canal has been recently projected, which will also pass
through our property, the value of which, if we are asso-
ciated together, is inestimably increased.

“In this he can very conveniently develop his chief
desire, to begin quite at the beginning. On both sides of
this canal plenty of untilled and uninhabited land will be
found. There spinners and weavers may settle, masons,
carpenters, and blacksmiths may erect modest workshops
for them and for themselves; all may be done at first-
hand, whilst we others undertake to solve complicated
problems and manage to further the round of industry.

« This, then, is our friend’s first task. From the moun-
tains, complaints after complaints reach us of the want of
means of subsistence that prevails there: these districts
are also said to be over-peopled. There he will look
round about, judge of people and of circumstances, and
the really active ones, those useful to themselves and to
others, he will take away in our train.

« Further, I have to report of Lothario, that he is pre-
paring the complete consummation. He has undertaken a
journey to the Pedagogues, to ask for skilled artisans,
though only a very few. The arts are the salt of the

. B2
244 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

earth; as this substance is to food, so are they related to
technical work. We borrow nothing more from art, but
the result that handiwork shall not be insipid.

“« A permanent connexion with this training institution
will, on the whole, be very useful and necessary to us.
We must be doing, and cannot think about forming, but
to draw the ready-formed to us is our highest duty.

« Thousands of considerations here suggest themselves :
allow me, after our old fashion, only one more general
remark, occasioned by a passage in your letter to Lenardo.
We do not wish to deprive domestic piety of its due com-
mendation; upon it is founded the security of the individual,
upon which fortitude and dignity may ultimately repose.
But it extends no further; we must grasp the notion of a
universal piety, send forth to the world our honestly human
dispositions, in a practical shape, and not only help our
neighbours, but at the same time take up the whole of
humanity.

“ And now, to refer at last to your request, I say thus
much : Montan has duly reported it to us. The strange
man would not on any account declare what you actually
had in view; yet he pledged the word of a friend that it
was reasonable, and if it should succeed, would be highly
advantageous to the society. And so you are forgiven for
likewise making a secret of it in your letter. In short,
you are freed from all restrictions, as you should already
have been informed, if your address had been known to
us. Therefore, in the name of all, I repeat: your object,
although undeclared, is approved, in confidence in Montan
and you. Travel, stop, move about, or linger; whatever
answers your purpose will be right. May you make
yourself the most necessary link of our chain!

«T enclose at the end a little table, from which you will
discover the moveable centre of our communications. You
will find therein displayed before your eyes, whither at
each season you have to send your letters. We should
like best to have them sent by trust-worthy messengers,
who are indicated to you sufficiently at several places.
In the same way you will find it shown by symbols
where you have to seek out one or the other of our
friends.” ;

 
|
|

( 245 )

InrERCALATION,

But at this point we find occasion to announce a pause to
the reader, and one in fact of several years, on which account

we should have liked, had it been reconcilable with typogra-

phical arrangements, to conclude a volume at this place.*

Yet the space between two chapters will amply suffice for
us to carry ourselves across the measure of time mentioned,
as we have long been accustomed to allow of, between the falling
and rising of the curtain in our own presence.

In this second book we have seen the circumstances of our old
friends advanced in a remarkable manner, and at the same
time we have gained fresh acquaintances; the prospects are such,
that it is to be hoped that each and all, if they know how to take
their place in life, will completely gain their wishes. Let us
then expect soon to find them again, one after the other,
interweaving and disengaging themselves upon trodden and -
untrodden paths.

* As Diintzer remarks, Goethe could easily have commenced a third
[book here, dividing the whole work into four. Either he or his
publishers appear to have wished the divisions to coincide with the
three volumes in which they were published.

The above note appears to count as a chapter, the next being the
ninth.—ED.
246 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL ]

CHAPTER IX.

Ir we now seek out our friend again—for some time left
to his own resources, we shall find him as he comes hither
from the side of the level country into the Pedagogic
province. He comes across pastures and meadows, skirts
on the dry down many a small lake, looks on bushy rather
than wooded hills; on all sides a free prospect over a land
but little tilled. On such tracks it did not long remain
doubtful that he was in the horse-breeding district, and

he noticed here and there smaller and larger herds of these

noble beasts of different sex and age. But all at once the
horizon is covered with a fearful dust-cloud, which rapidly

 

looming nearer and nearer, completely conceals the whole

breadth of the space, but at last parted by a keen side-
_ wind, is forced to disclose the tumult inside it.

A large body of the said noble beasts rushes forward in
full gallop; they are guided and kept together by keepers
on horseback. The tremendous hurly-burly rushes past

the traveller; a fine boy, amongst the keepers in charge,
looks at him in astonishment, pulls up, jumps off, and
embraces his father.

Now questioning and explanation ensue. The son relates
that he had had to put up with a good deal during the first
probation time ; dispensing with his horse, and going about
on foot over ploughed lands and meadows, and, as he had
declared beforehand, had not shown himself to advantage
in the quiet toilsome country life. The harvest-feast had
pleased him well enough ; but the tillage afterwards, the
ploughing, digging, and waiting, not at all. He had cer-
tainly occupied himself with the necessary and useful
domestic animals, but always lazily and discontentedly
until he was at last promoted to the more lively business

of riding. The occupation of looking after the mares and |

|

 
|
|
|

. Caar. 1X1] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 247

foals was tedious enough; meanwhile, if one sees before
one a lively little beast, that in three or four years’ time

will perhaps carry one about, it is quite a different sort of

~ thing from troubling oneself about calves and sucking
~ pigs, of which the end and aim is to be well fed and

fattened, and then sold.
With the growth of his boy, who was now really

‘reaching youth’s estate, with his healthy condition, and

. a certain merry freedom, not to say cleverness, in his talk,

his father had good reason to be content. The two now
proceeded to follow quickly on horseback the speeding
convoy, past remote-lying and extensive farms to the vil-
lage or country town where the great market was held.
There incredible confusion was in full career, and it was
impossible to distinguish whether the wares or the mer-
chants raised the more dust. From all countries would-be
purchasers here meet together in order to acquire animals
of fine breed and careful rearing; and one might think
that one heard all the tongues of the earth. In the midst
of it all, too, sounds the lively music of the most powerful
wind instruments, and everything indicates movement,
vigour, and life.

Our traveller now again meets the overseer already
known to him of old, and falls in company with other
clever men, who manage quietly and no less unnoticeably
to maintain discipline and order. Wilhelm believing that
here again he sees an instance of exclusive occupation,
and in spite of its seeming breadth, of a narrow course of
life, is anxious to ascertain by what other means they are
accustomed to train the pupils, in order to prevent the
youth—in such a wild, and in some degree savage, occu-
pation of rearing and training beasts—from becoming a
wild beast himself. And thus it was very gratifying to
him to learn that with this same violent and rough-seeming
vocation was united the most delicate in the world, the
practice and the learning of languages.

At this moment the father missed his son from his side;
he saw him through the interstices of the crowd eagerly
bargaining and arguing with a young pedlar over some
trifles. In a short time he altogether lost him. On the
overseer’s inquiring the reason of a certain embarrassment
248 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

and abstraction, and hearing in reply that it was on his
son’s account, “ Never mind that,” he said, to reassure the
father, “he is not lost. But to show you how we keep
our charges together ” and thereupon he blew shrilly
on a whistle that hung at his breast. In a moment it
was answered by dozens from all sides. The man went
on; “I will let this serve for the present, it is only a
signal that the overseer is in the neighbourhood, and
happens to want to know how many hear him. On a
second signal they keep quiet, but make themselves ready ;
on the third they answer and come rushing up. More-
over, these signals are multiplied in very many ways
and for special uses.” A more open space had suddenly
cleared itself round about them; they were able to speak
more freely whilst walking towards the adjoining heights.

“We were led to this practice of languages,” proceeded
the overseer, “by the fact that we find here youths from
all parts of the world. Now it was to prevent the people
of one country from clanning together, as usually happens
abroad, and forming parties asunder from the other
nations, that we try, by free communion of speech, to
bring them nearer to one another. But a universal know-
ledge of language is most necessary, inasmuch as at this
fair, every foreigner is glad to find a sufficient means of
intercourse in his own sounds and expressions, and at the
same time all possible convenience in bargaining and
dealing. Yet in order that no Babylonish confusion, no
corruption of speech shall ensue, one language only is
spoken in common, month by month throughout the
year, in accordance with the principle that one should
learn nothing that has to be made compulsory except the
rudiments.

“We look upon our scholars,” said the overseer, “as so
many swimmers, who in the element that threatens to
swallow them feel themselves with wonder to be lighter,
and are borne up and carried forward by it—and so it is
with everything that man undertakes. Yet if one of our
pupils shows a special inclination for this or that language,
provision is made even in the midst of this tumultuous-
seeming life, which affords withal very many quiet, idle,
and lonely, nay, tedious hours for true and thorough

 

 
Cuar. IX.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 249

instruction. You would have some difficulty in picking
out our equestrian grammarians, amongst whom there are
verily a few pedants, from amidst these bearded and
beardless centaurs. Your Felix has set himself to Italian,
and since melodious singing, as you know already, per-
vades everything in our institutions, you might hear him,
in the monotony of a herdsman’s life, bring out many a
ditty with taste and feeling. Activity and practical
ability are far more reconcileable with efficient instruction
than one thinks.” ‘

As every district has its own peculiar festival, the guest
was led to the domain of instrumental music. Bordering
on the plains, it at once exhibited pleasantly and grace-
fully diversified valleys, little narrow copses, gentle brooks,
by the banks of which a moss-grown rock slily peeped out
here and there amidst the turf. Scattered habitations,
surrounded by bushes, were to be seen upon the hills; in
gentle dales the houses clustered nearer to each other.
Those cottages, set gracefully apart, were so far from each
other, that no musical sound either true or false could be
heard from one to the other.

They now approached a wide space, built and covered
round about, where men standing shoulder to shoulder
seemed on the tiptoe of attention and expectation. Just
as the guest entered, a powerful symphony on all the
instruments commenced, the full-toned strength and ten-
derness of which he could not but admire.

By the side of this roomily-constructed orchestra stood
a smaller one, which attracted special attention; upon it
were younger and older scholars. Each held his instru-
ment in readiness, without playing on it. These were
they who as yet were not able or did not venture to join
in with the whole. One noticed with interest how they
were standing as it were at the spring, and heard it
declared that such a festival seldom passed by without a
genius in some one or other being suddenly developed.

When vocal music also was brought forward in the
intervals of the instrumental, there was no longer room
to doubt that this too was in favour. Upon his inquiry,
moreover, as to what further sort of education was joined
in friendly union with this, the traveller learnt that it
250 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor II.

 

was the art of poetry, and withal of the lyric sort. Their
whole aim in this was that the two arts, each for and
from itself, but at the same time in contrast to and in
conjunction with each other should be developed. The
pupils learn to know one as well as the other in their
special limitations: then they are taught how they mu-
tually limit, and again mutually emancipate one another.

To the rhythm of poetry the tone-artist opposes the
division and movement of time. But here the sway of
music over poetry soon manifests itself—for if the latter,
as is proper and necessary, always keeps its quantities as
clearly as possible in view, yet for the musician few
syllables are definitely long or short; he destroys at
pleasure the most conscientious proceedings of the dealer
in thythm-—nay, actually converts prose into song;
whence ensue the most wonderful possibilities, and the
poet would very soon feel himself annihilated, were he
not able, on his own part, to inspire the musician with
reverence by means of lyric tenderness and boldness,
and to call forth new feelings, at one time in the most
delicate gradation, at another by the most abrupt
transitions.

The singers one finds here are for the most part them-

_ selves poets. Dancing, too, is taught in its rudiments; so
that all these accomplishments may diffuse themselves
methodically throughout the whole of these regions.

When the guest was conducted across the next boundary
he suddenly beheld quite a different style of building.
The houses were no longer scattered, and no more of the
cottage-sort ; they rather appeared to be set together with
regularity—solid and handsome from without, roomy,
convenient, and elegant within. Here one perceived an
unconfined and well-built town, adapted to its situation.
Here plastic art and its kindred crafts are at home, and a
stillness quite peculiar prevails in these places.

The plastic artist, it is true, always considers himself in
relation to whatever lives and moves amidst mankind;
but his occupation is a solitary one, and, by the strangest
contradiction, no other, perhaps, so decidedly calls for a
living environment. Here, then, does each one create in
silence what is soon to occupy the eyes of men for ever.

adie oa coi at ns
Crap. IX.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 251

A Sabbath stillness reigns over the whole place, and if
one did not notice here and there the chipping of the stone-
mason, or the measured blows of carpenters, just now
busily employed in finishing a splendid building, not a
sound would disturb the air.

Qur traveller was struck with the seriousness, the won-
derful strictness, with which beginners, as ‘well as the
more advanced, were treated; it seemed as if no ome
essayed anything by his own strength and power, but as

if a hidden spirit animated all throughout, guiding them

to one single great end. Neither draft nor sketch was
anywhere to be seen; every stroke was drawn with care.
And when the traveller asked the guide for an explanation
of the whole process, the latter remarked, “the imagination
is of itself a vague inconstant faculty, whilst the whole
merit of the plastic artist consists in this, namely, in learn-
ing ever more and more to define and grasp it firmly, nay,
even at last to elevate it to the level of the present.”

He was reminded of the necessity in other arts of more
certain principles. “ Would the musician allow a pupil to
strike wildly at the strings, or to invent intervals accord-
ing to his own caprice and pleasure? Here it is remarkable
that nothing is to be left to the learner’s discretion. The
element in which he is to work is given definitely, the
tool that he has to handle is placed in his hand, the very
style and method by which he is to avail himself of them
(I mean the fingering) he finds prescribed, by which one
member gets out of the way of another, and gets the
proper road ready for its successor, by which orderly co-
operation alone the impossible becomes possible at last.
But what mostly justifies us in strict demands and definite
laws, is that it is precisely genius, the inborn talent, that
grasps them first, and yields them the most willing obe-

dience. Only mediocrity would fain substitute its limited

speciality for the unlimited whole, and glorify its false
ideas under the pretence of an incontrollable originality
and independence. This, however, we do not let pass,
but we protect our pupils against all false steps, whereby

a great part of life, nay, often the whole life, is confused
and broken up. With the genius we love best to deal, for
he is specially inspired with the good spirit of recognising
   

252 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL i

quickly what is useful to him. He sees that Art is called
Art, precisely because it is not Nature; he accommodates
himself to the proper respect even for that which might
be called conventional, for what else is this but that the =
best men have agreed to regard the necessary, the ine-
vitable, as the best? And is it not successful in every
case? To the great assistance of the teachers, the three
reverences and their symbols are introduced and incul-
cated here too, as everywhere with us, with some varia-
tion in conformity with the nature of the business that
prevails.”

As the traveller was led further around, he was con-
strained to wonder at the fact, that the city seemed to
extend itself for ever, streets growing out of streets, and
affording numberless fine views. The exterior of the
buildings expressed their object unambiguously: they
were substantial and imposing, less showy than beautiful.
After the nobler and more solemn one in the middle of the
town, came those of more cheerful aspect, until at last,
charming suburbs, of a graceful character, spread away
towards the open country, dwindling away finally in
the shape of country villas.

The traveller could not avoid remarking here that the
habitations of the musicians in the preceding region were,
in respect to beauty and size, in no way to be compared
with the present ones in which painters, sculptors, and
architects dwelt. The answer given to him was that this
lay in the nature of things. The musician must always
be absorbed within himself, to shape out his inmost
thought and to bring it forth. He has not to flatter the
sense of sight; the eye very easily supplants the ear, and
tempts outward the spirit from within. The plastic artist,
on the contrary, must live in the outer world, and make
his inner nature manifest, as it were unconsciously, on
and in the external world. Plastic artists must live like
kings and gods; how otherwise would they build and
adorn for kings and gods? They must at last raise them-
selves above the ordinary so far that the whole community
may feel honoured in and by their works.

Our friend then desired the explanation of another para-
dox—why is it that just on these festivals, which in
| Cmar. IX] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 253

other regions are such lively and tumultuously excited
days, here the greatest quiet prevails, and work is not
| even exhibited.
| “A plastic artist,” he said, “requires no festival; to
' him the whole year is a festival. When he has accom-
| plished anything excellent, it stands afterwards, as it did
before, in his sight and in the sight of the whole world.
In this no repetition is needed, no new effort, no fresh
success, such as the musician is for ever tormented by:
who for that reason is not to be grudged the most splendid
| festival amidst the most numerous audience.”
“But yet,” replied Wilhelm, “on days like this one
would be glad to see an exhibition in which the three
years progress of the best pupils might be examined and
criticised with pleasure.”
«In other places,” he was told, “an exhibition may be
| necessary; with us it is not; our whole end and aim is
exhibition. Look here at the buildings of every sort, all
| carried out by pupils; after plans, discussed and revised
it is true, a hundred times; for one who builds must not
| potter about and make experiments. What has to remain
' standing, must stand well, and suffice, if not for eternity,
at any rate for a considerable time. We may commit ever
so many faults, but we must not build any. With sculptors
we deal a little more leniently, most leniently of all with
painters; they may experiment, here and there, each in
his own style. Itis open to them to choose in the inside or
outside spaces of buildings, in the open squares, a spot
which they will decorate. They make their ideas public,
and if one is in any degree worthy of approbation, the
execution is agreed to; but in one of two ways—either
with the privilege of taking the work away, sooner or later,
should it cease to please the artist himself, or with the
condition of leaving the work, when once set up irre-
moveably in its place. The most choose the former, and
reserve the privilege for themselves, in which they are
always well advised. The second case seldom occurs ; and
it is observable that the artists then rely less upon them-
selves, hold long conferences with their comrades and
critics, and by that means manage to produce works really
worthy of being valued and made permanent.
 
  
     
 

254 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL |

After all this, Wilhelm did not neglect to inquire what
other instruction was given besides, and he was informed
that this consisted of poetry, and in fact of epic poetry. =

Yet it must needs appear strange to our friend when
they added that the pupils are not allowed to read or to =
recite the completed poems of ancient and modern poets.
« Merely a series of myths, traditions, and legends is briefly =
imparted to them. Thus we soon recognise by pictorial or 3
poetic expression, the special productive power of the genius
devoted to one or the other art. Poets and artists both
occupy themselves at the same well-spring, and each one
tries to guide the stream towards his own side for hisown =
advantage, so as to attain his end according to his require-«
ments; at which he succeeds much better than if he set
about making over again what has been made already.” =

The traveller had an opportunity of seeing the process
himself. Several painters were busy in one room ; a lively |
young companion was telling a quite simple story very
circumstantially, so that he employed almost as many words
as they did pencil-strokes to complete his exposition in
the most rounded style possible. >

They assured Wilhelm that in their joint work, the
friends entertained themselves very pleasantly, and that
in this way improvisators were often developed who
were able to arouse great enthusiasm in the twofold
representation.

Our friend now turned his inquiries again to plastic art.
“ You have,” he said, “no exhibition, and, consequently,
I suppose, no award of prizes.”

«We have not in point of fact,’* replied the other, “but
quite close by here, we can let you see what we regard as
more useful.”

They turned into a large hall, lighted with good effect
from above. A large circle of busy artists was first seen,
from the midst of whom a colossal group, favourably
placed, reared itself. Vigorous male and female forms, in
powerful poses, reminded one of that splendid fight between
youthful heroes and Amazons, in which hate and animosity
at last resolve themselves into mutual and faithful alliance.
This remarkably involved piece of art-work was seen to
equal advantage from any point around it. Artists were
i
|
J
p

: Car. IX) WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 255
sitting and standing in a large circle, each occupied after
| his own fashion: the painter at his easel, the draughtsman
at his drawing-board, some modelling in the round, some
| in bas-relief; architects were even making drawings for
| the pedestal, upon which a similar work of art was after-
| wards to be placed. Every one taking part in it adopted
| his own method in copying. Painters and draughtsmen
| developed the group in the flat, carefully, indeed, so as not
| to spoil it, but to give as much as possible. The work
in bas-relief was treated in precisely the same manner.
| Only one had reproduced the whole group on a smaller
scale, and in certain movements and arrangement of mem-
| bers, he really seemed to have surpassed the model.

| It now appeared that this was the designer of the model,
who, before its execution in marble, was now submitting
| it not to a critical but to a practical test; and who, by
| taking accurate note of everything that each of his fellow-
- workers, according to his own method and way of thinking,
| saw, preserved, or altered in it, was enabled to turn it to
his own advantage; with this object, that ultimately, when
| the perfect work should come forth chiselled in marble,
;
|

 

though undertaken, designed, and executed by only one,
yet still it might seem to belong to all.

In this room, too, the greatest silence reigned ; but the
director raised his voice and cried, “ Who is there here,
who, in the presence of this motionless work, can so move
the imagination with the excellence of his words that all
that we can see transfixed here, shall again become resolved
without losing its character, so that we may convince our-
selves that what the artist, has here laid hold of is indeed
the worthiest.”

Bxpressly called on by them all, a beautiful youth left
his work, and began by delivering a quiet discourse, in
which he seemed merely to describe the present work, but
soon he threw himself into the peculiar region of poetry,
~ plunged into the midst of the action, and controlled this
element to a marvel. Little by little his rendering was

elevated by brilliant declamation, to such a height that

the rigid group seemed to turn upon its axis, and the
number of the figures seemed thereby doubled and trebled.

Wilhelm stood enraptured, and at last cried, “Who can

Wh
pe
256. WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

longer refrain from passing on into actual song and
rhythmic verse?”

“ This I would beg to refuse,” replied the overseer, «for
if our excellent sculptor will speak sincerely, he will con-
fess that our poet hardly pleases him, and simply because
the two artists stand as far as possible from one another:
on the other hand, I would wager that here and there a
painter has appropriated from him certain living traits.
Yet there is a gentle kindly song that I might allow our
friend to hear, one that you deliver with such sweet
seriousness : it relates to art as a whole, and does me good
myself whenever I hear it.”

After a pause, in which they beckoned to each other,
and made arrangements by signs, the following fine heart
and spirit-stirring song resounded from all sides :—

   

«To invent and bring to ending,

Artist, bide thou oft alone:

Joy to reap from toilsome spending,
Gaily to thy friends begone !

See them as a whole compacted,
And discern thine own career;

Deeds in many a year enacted
In thy neighbour will be clear.

First conceiving, then presenting,
Ranging shapes in order wise,
Each of them the rest accenting
Till at last they all suffice.
~ Well invented, render’d neatly,
Feelingly and thoroughly done,
Thus the artist hath discreetly
Power from everlasting won.

As the thousand forms of Nature -
Of one God alone do tell,

So does one enduring feature
In Art's wide domain prevail.

This, the sense of Truth Eternal,
Beauty dons as her array,

And unharmed by light supernal
Gazes on the brightest day.

As the speaker, as the singer
Blithely fare in rhyme or prose,

Fresh beneath the painter’s finger
Must bloom forth Life’s joyous rose.
 

Crap. IX.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 257

With her sisters round her closing,
With the fruits that autumn brings,
Thus the mysteries disclosing
Of Life’s deeply hidden springs.

Form from form do thou dissever,
Fair, in shapes a thousand fold ;
Of man’s image glad for ever
That a God it did enfold.
Stand in brotherhood united,
Whatsoe’er your work may be;
And like sacred incense lighted
Rise on high in melody.” .

Wilhelm might well have let all this pass, although it
must have seemed to him very paradoxical, and, had he
not seen it with his eyes, actually impossible. But when
they proceeded, in beautiful sequence, to declare and
make it all clear to him openly and frankly, he hardly
needed to ask a single question for further information ;
yet he did not forbear, at last, to address his conductor as
follows : :

“I see that here everything desirable in life has been
provided for very wisely, but tell me, besides, which
region can manifest a similar solicitude for dramatic
poetry, and where might I gain information on that
subject. I-have looked round amongst all your edifices,
and find none that could be destined for such an object.”

“In reply to this question we cannot deny that there is
nothing of the sort to be met with in the whole of our
province, for the theatre presupposes an idle crowd, per-
haps even a rabble, the like of which is not to be found
amongst us; for such people, if they do not go away dis-
gusted, of their own accord, are conveyed across the fron-
tier. Be assured, however, that in our universally active
institution so important a point as this has been well
considered ; but no region could be found for it; some
weighty objection occurred in every case. Who is there
amongst our pupils who would have easily made up his
mind to awaken in this mass, with feigned merriment or
hypocritical sorrow, an unreal emotion inconsistent with
the time, and thereby produce in alterations an ever-dubious

| pleasure? Such foolishness we considered altogether dan-

erous. and could not connect it with our serious aim.”
’
S
258 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boox IL

“And yet it is said,” replied Wilhelm, that this

widely-encompassing art requires all the others together.”

«Not at all,” was the reply; “she makes use of the
others, but spoils them. I do not blame the actor when

he associates himself with the painter, but still the painter,

in such a partnership, is lost. The actor, without any
conscience, will, for his own momentary ends, and with

no small profit, use up all that art and life offer him; the
painter, on the other hand, who would reap some advan-
tage again from the theatre, will always find himself at a
disadvantage, and the musician will be in the same case.
The arts seem to me like so many sisters, of whom the
greater number have been disposed to economy, but one
of trivial disposition has had a mind to appropriate the
possessions and property of the whole family. The theatre
is in this situation: it has an ambiguous origin, which,
whether as art or handicraft, or dilettanteism, it can never
wholly disguise.”

Wilhelm looked down with a deep sigh, for all the
enjoyment and the sorrow that he had had from and on
the stage, was: suddenly present to him. He blessed
the good men who were wise enough to spare their pupils
such pain, who, from conviction and principle, banished
these perils from their circle. :

His conductor, however, did not leave him long to these
meditations, but proceeded: “As it is our highest and
holiest principle to misdirect no disposition or talent, we
cannot hide from ourselves the fact, that amongst so great
a number a natural mimetic gift may very likely be
decisively displayed. This, however, shows itself in an
irrepressible desire to ape the characters, figures, motion,
and speech of others. This we do not encourage, it is
true, but we observe the pupil carefully, and if he remains
throughout true to his nature, we have put ourselves in
connexion with the large theatres of all nations, and
thither we send any one of tried capacity, in order that,
like the duck upon the pond, he may with all speed
be guided on the stage to the future waddling and quack-
ing of his life.”

Wilhelm listened to this with patience, yet only with

partial conviction, and perhaps with some annoyance; for |

  
Cuar. IX.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 25)

so wonderfully is man minded, that whilst he is really
persuaded of the worthlessness of some favourite subject
or other, and will turn away from, and even execrate him-
self, yet still he will not bear to have it treated in the
same way by any one else, and probably the spirit of
contradiction which dwells in all mankind is never mote
vigorously and effectively excited than in such a case.

The editor of these papers may even confess that he
allows this wonderful passage to pass with some reluct-
ance. Has he not, too, in many senses devoted more than
a due share of life and strength to the theatre? and would
it be easy to convince him that this has been an inex-
cusable error, a fruitless exertion ?

However, we have not time to apply ourselves ill-
humouredly to such recollections and underlying feelings,
for our friend finds himself agreeably surprised on seeing
before him, once more, one of the Three, and one especially
sympathetic. A communicative gentleness, telling of the
purest peace of soul imparted itself most revivingly: the
Wanderer could approach him trustfully, and feel that his
trust was returned.

He now learnt that the Superior was at present in the
sanctuary, and was there instructing, teaching, and bless-
ing, whilst the Three arranged severally to visit all the
regions, and in every place—after obtaining the most
minute information, and arranging with the subordinate
overseers to carry forward what had been begun—to
establish what had been newly determined, and thus
faithfully fulfil their high duty.

This excellent man it was, who gave him a more general
view of their internal economy, and external connexions,
as well as a knowledge of the reciprocal effect of all the
different regions; nor did he fail to make clear how a
pupil could be transferred from one to the other after a
longer or shorter period. Enough, everything fully har-
monised with what he already knew. At the same time,
the account given of his son was a source of great satis-
faction, and the plan on which they intended to proceed
with him must needs obtain his entire approbation. ;

8 2
260 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS, (Book IT,

3

CHAPTER X.

TrerevroN Wilhelm was invited by assistants and over-
seers to a mountain-festival which was on the point of
being celebrated. They ascended the mountain with some
difficulty, and Wilhelm fancied he noticed that towards
evening the guide walked more slowly, as if the darkness
would not oppose still further hindrance to their progress.
But as soon as deep night surrounded them the riddle was
solved for him : he saw, from numerous ravines and valleys,
small flames glimmering unsteadily, stretching out into
lines, and rolling towards them across the mountain
heights. Much friendlier than when a volcano opens out,
and its belching din threatens whole districts with de-
struction, did this spectacle appear ; and yet, by-and-bye,
it glowed much stronger, broader, and more concentrated,
sparkling like a stream of stars, gentle and kindly it
is true, but yet spreading itself boldly over the whole
scene.

After enjoying some time the astonishment of the guest
(for they could actually see each other well, their faces
and forms seemed illuminated by the light in the dis-
tance, as well as their path), his companion began to
speak :

“You see here a wonderful sight indeed : those lights,
which glow and work, day and night, throughout the whole
year, aiding the acquisition of hidden and scarcely attain-
able subterranean treasures, it is they that at the present
moment are welling and gushing forth from their caverns
and cheer the outer darkness. Hardly ever has a finer
sight been seen, where the most useful industry, dis-
persed beneath the ground, withdrawn from sight, discloses |
itself to us in full completeness, bringing a vast secret
combination to view.”

 
| Crap. X.]. WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 261

Amid such conversation and reflexions, they had reached
the spot where the rivulets of fire merged themselves into
the sea of flame surrounding a brightly lighted insular
space. The wanderer now stood in the blinding circle,
where glancing lights by the thousand formed a weird
contrast to the black background of the rows of miners.
Forthwith the liveliest music was heard, with appro-
priate singing. Hollow masses of rock came away by
the aid of machinery, and soon discovered a brilliant
interior to the eye of the delighted spectator. Mimetic
representations, and aught else that can add a charm to
such a moment for the crowd, combined to excite and at
the same time to satisfy a cheerful attention.

But with what astonishment was our friend filled,
when he saw himself presented to the chief people, and
amongst them, in solemn attire of state, beheld friend
Jarno.

« Not without reason,” exclaimed the latter, “have I
exchanged my earlier name for the moresignificant Montan.
You find me here, consecrated to mountain and cavern, and
happier in this limited situation below and upon the earth
than can be imagined.”

“ Then,” replied the wanderer, “you will thus, as a
thorough expert, now be more liberal with explanation
and instruction than you showed yourself towards me on
those rocky mountain crags yonder.”

“Not at all,” rejoined Montan, “mountains are dumb
teachers, and make silent scholars.”

After this festal celebration they supped at numerous
tables. All the guests who, invited -or uninvited, were
present, belonged to the craft; consequently, even at the
table at which Montan and his friend sat down, a conver-
sation suited to the place at cnce commenced. The talk
was all of mountains, lodes, and strata, of the veins and
metals of the district in detail. But presently the con-
versation was merged into general subjects, and then the
question turned on nothing less than the creation and
origin of the world. But hereupon the discussion was no
longer amicable, but rather involved itself speedily in a
lively dispute.

Several of them would derive the formation of our earth
262 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor II

from a watery covering sinking and diminishing itself
little by little. They adduced in their support the remains
of organic dwellers in the sea, on the highest mountains,
as well as on the low hills. Others, on the contrary,
averred more positively that it was first glowing and
molten, that fire also prevailed throughout, which after it
had had sufficient effect upon the outer surface, was finally
withdrawn into the very depths, and was henceforward in
constant activity through volcanoes raging violently in the
sea as well as on the earth, and thus by successive erup-
tions, and lava likewise streaming over time after time,
formed the highest mountains. They also especially re-
minded those who thought otherwise, that, in fact, without
fire nothing could become hot, and that an active fire
always presupposed a hearth. However reconcilable with
experience this might seem, many were not contented
with it. They affirmed that mighty forms which had
already become fully perfected within the bosom of the
earth, were driven by the agency of irresistible elastic
forces through the earth’s crust and out into the heights,
and in this tumult many portions of them were at the
same time scattered and splintered far over the contiguous
and distant tracts; they appealed to many facts which
were not to be explained without some such assumption.
A fourth, though perhaps not a numerous party, laughed
at these futile attempts, and affirmed that indeed many
circumstances of the surface of this earth would never be
capable of explanation if we did not allow that larger and
smaller mountain ranges had fallen down from the atmo-
sphere, and tracts of land had been covered far and wide
by them. They called to witness larger and smaller
masses of rock which are found lying scattered about in
many countries, and even in our days are collected as
having been hurled down from above.

At last, two or three quiet guests essayed to call in the
assistance of a period of severe cold, and from the highest
mountain ridges, would look in spirit upon glaciers sloping
down far into the land, sliding-planes so to speak, provided
for heavy masses of primitive rock, which were thus pushed
farther and farther down upon the slippery path. These,
on the advent of the period of thaw, must needs sink down,

 

 
i

s

8

| Cuar. X.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 263

| to remain lying for ever on foreign soil. Thus, also, the
| transport of enormous blocks of stone hither from the
' north by means of floating drift-ice would become possible.*
| These good folks, however, could not make any impression
| with their somewhat calm views. It was held to be far
| more in accordance with Nature to allow the creation of a
world to proceed with gigantic bursting and upheaving,
with tumultuous roaring and fiery jaculation ; and when,
moreover, the heat of wine had contributed its potent
effect, the sumptuous feast had almost been broken up in
murderous doings.

Utterly confused and befogged was our friend’s mind,
who, in quiet thought, still cherished from of old the Spirit
that had moved upon the face of the waters, and the deep
flood which had stood fifteen cubits above the highest
mountains, and to whom, amid this strange talk, the
world, well-ordered, developed, and animated as it was,
seemed to fall, before his imagination, into a chaotic
heap.

The next morning he did not omit to question the grave
Montan on this subject, exclaiming, “I could not under-
stand you yesterday, for amongst all the extraordinary
things and speeches, I was hoping to hear at last your
opinion, and your decision; instead of which, you were
sometimes on one side and sometimes on the other, and
always tried to confirm the opinion of him who hap-
pened to be speaking. But now tell me seriously what
you think of it all, what you know about it.”

To this Montan replied, “I know as much as they, and
would rather not think at all about it.”

“But here,” replied Wilhelm, “are so many contra-
dictory opinions; and it is said, forsooth, that truth lies
in the middle.”

“Not at all,” rejoined Montan, “the problem lies in the
middle, insoluble perhaps, perhaps also accessible if it is
taken in hand.” :

So after somewhat more had been said to like effect by
one and the other, Montan continued confidentially : “You

* This passage is interesting as apparently giving Goethe’s own
views as to erratic rocks, at a time when the now familiar and well-
established theory of glacier-movement had not been arrived at.—lip.
2064 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL a

blame me for supporting each one in his opinion, inso=
much that a further argument can always be found for
everything ; I thereby increased the confusion, it is true,
but, in point of fact, I cannot, with this breed, take the
matter more seriously. I have thoroughly convinced
myself that what each holds dearest—and these, in fact,
are our convictions—he must, in deepest seriousness, keep
to himself. Each one knows what he does know only
for himself; and that he must keep secret; when he utters
it, contradiction is excited forthwith, and when he ven-
tures into conflict, he loses the equilibrium in himself,
and what is best in him, if not annihilated, is at any rate
disturbed.”

Prompted by some counter-arguments of Wilhelm’s,
Montan further declared, “If one once knows on what
everything depends, one ceases to be argumentative.”

“ But what does everything depend on then?” replied
Wilhelm impatiently.

«That is soon said,” answered the other. «Thinking
and Doing, Doing and Thinking, from all time admitted,
from all time practised, but not discerned by every one.
Like expiration and inhalation, the two must for ever be
pulsating backwards and forwards in life; like question 1
and answer, the one cannot exist without the other. Who-
ever makes for himself a law—which the genius of human
understanding secretly whispers into the ear of every
new-born child—to test Doing by Thinking, Thinking by
Doing, he cannot go astray; and if he does go astray, he
will soon find himself on the right way again.”

Montan now proceeded to conduct his friend methodi-
cally round the mining district; they were greeted every-
where with a gruff “ Good-luck!” which they cheerfully
returned.

«I often feel inclined,” said Montan, “to call out to
them, ¢ Good sense!’ for sense is more than luck; yet the
people always have sense enough, if their superiors have
any. Since I am here, ir not to command, at any rate to
advise, I have taken some trouble to learn the peculiarities
of the mountain. They are striving most vigorously after
the metals that it contains. I have been trying to make
clear to myself where these occur, and I have succeeded,

   

 

 
| Cuar. X.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 265
| It is not done by luck alone, but by sense, which calls in

| the aid of luck in order to regulate it. How these moun-
tains have come to be here I know not, and what is more -
| I do not care to know; but I daily endeavour to win away

| from them their property. The lead and silver that they
bear in their bosom is greedily sought after; how they
| have it, I keep to myself, and provide an opportunity of
finding what is wished for. At my advice an experimental

| attempt is made, it succeeds, and is lucky for me. What

' I know, I know to myself; in what I succeed, I succeed

| for the benefit of others, and no one imagines that in the

| same way he might have succeeded just as well. I am
' under the suspicion of possessing a magic wand ; but they
do not remark that they contradict me whenever I bring

| forward anything in the way of reasoning, and that
they thereby cut off from themselves the way to the
tree of knowledge where these divining rods may be

| plucked.”

Reassured by this conversation, persuaded that he, too,
having hitherto prospered in his Doing and Thinking,
had in general adapted himself, in a widely different
department, to his friend’s requirements, he now pro-
ceeded to give account of the employment of his time,
since he had obtained the favour of distributing. and
using the prescribed term of travel, not by days and
hours, but in accordance with the true aim of a complete
| culture.

In this there was now, as it happened, no need of many
| words, for a circumstance of some moment gave our friend
| an opportunity of turning his acquired talent skilfully
and favourably to account, and of proving himself truly
| useful to human society.

But of what sort this was, we must not at the moment
| disclose, though the reader shall soon, before the end of
| this book, be sufficiently informed of it.*

| % The circumstance after all is not told. It was meant, Diintzer
gays, to be an accident to one of the miners.—ED,

 

 
266 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IL

|
3

CHATTER XL

Hersilia to Wilhelm.

« EVERY oxE has for many years upbraided me with being
a strange whimsical girl. If it is the case, I am so
without any fault of my own. People have had to be
patient with me; and now I need to have patience with
myself, and with my imagination, which brings father
and son sometimes together, sometimes alternately back-
wards and forwards before my eyes. I seem to myself
like an innocent Alkmene, who is perpetually haunted by
two beings who personate each other.

“TI have much to say to you, and yet I write to you, it
seems, only when I have an adventure to relate; all the
rest, too, is adventure-like, it is true, but not an adventure.
So now for that of to-day.

“I am sitting under the tall lime-trees, and am just
finishing a letter-case, a very pretty one, without knowing
for certain who is to have it—father or son—but certainly
one of the two. A young pedlar comes up to me with
small baskets and boxes; he modestly legitimates himself
by a permit from the bailiff allowing him to hawk goods
upon the estate. I examine his small wares down to the
endless trifles that nobody wants, and everybody buys
from a childish impulse to possess and to spend. The
boy seems to look at me attentively. Fine black, some-
what cunning eyes, well-marked eyebrows, profuse locks,
sparkling rows of teeth—enough, you understand me,
something of the oriental.

“ He makes a great many inquiries in reference to the
persons composing the family, to whom he would at any
rate venture to offer something ; by all sorts of manceuvres
he manages to get me to name myself to him. *Hersilia,’
i
]
1

) Cusp. XI.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 267

| he says shyly, ¢ will Hersilia excuse me if I discharge a
| commission?’ I looked at him in astonishment. He draws
| forth the smallest little slate enclosed in a white frame,
. such as are made in the mountains for the first childish
| attempts at writing. I take it, see that it is written
upon, and read the inscription, neatly cut in with a
sharp pencil: Feliz loves Hersilia. The equerry is coming
| S00.
«I am dumfoundered, I ponder in astonishment on
| what I hold in my hand, see before my eyes; and chiefly
| on this, that destiny will prove itself almost more extra-
| ordinary than I am myself. <What does this mean?’ I
| say to myself, and the little rogue is more than ever pre-
sent to me; nay, it seems as if his image would drill itself
| into my eyes.
| “Then I begin to ask questions, and receive strange,
unsatisfactory answers. I examine, and arrive at nothing.
I think, and cannot properly collect my thoughts. At
length, from talking and counter-talking, I gather thus
| much, that the young dealer had also passed through the
Pedagogic province, and acquired the confidence of my
' young adorer, who having bought a slate had written the
inscription upon it, and promised him the best recompenses
for a word or two in reply. He then handed me a similar
slate, several of which he disclosed in his pack, and like-
wise a pencil, and at the same time insisted and begged in
so friendly a manner, that I took both, thought, thought
again, and not being able to excogitate anything, wrote,
 Hersilia greets Feliw, and hopes the equerry is well.
«J considered what I had written, and felt vexed at its
clumsy expression. Neither tenderness, nor inspiration, nor
wit ; mere embarrassment : and why? I was standing be-
fore a boy, and writing to a boy: ought that to deprive
me of my composure? I verily believe that I sighed, and
was just on the point of wiping out what I had written,
but he took it so gracefully out of my hand, asked me for
something or other with which to cover it carefully ; and
so it happened that I—though I know not how it hap-
pened—put the little slate into the letter-case, wound the
string round it, and handed it, fastened up, to the boy,
who took it gracefully, and bowing deeply, lingered a

 
268 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II

 

moment, so that I just had time to press my purse into :
his hand, and blamed myself for not having given him
enough. He ran off at a pretty good pace, and when I
looked after him had already disappeared, I do not rightly
understand how.

«Now it is past, I am already back on the ordinary,
everyday level, and scarcely believe in the apparition.
Do 1 not hold the slate in my hand? It is only too charm-
ing, the writing quite beautifully and carefully traced; I
believe I should have kissed it if I had not been afraid of
obliterating the writing.

«I have taken a little time after writing the above;
but whatever I think about this, too, will always avail
nothing. Most certainly there was something mysterious
about the figure, the like of which are now-a-days indis-
pensable in fiction; must they then encounter us in real
life too? Agreeable and suspicious, foreign-looking, yet
inspiring confidence; why did he go away too before the
puzzle was solved? Why had I not sufficient presence of
mind civilly to detain him? :

« After a pause I again take pen in hand to pursue my
confessions. The decided, constant affection of a boy
ripening into youth might be flattering to me, but then it
occurred to me that, at this age, it is nothing uncommon
to be attached to older women. Indeed there is a mys-
terious inclination in younger men for older women. At
another time, when 1t did not concern myself, I would
have laughed over it, and maliciously declared it to be a
reminiscence of the tender age of nursing and sucking-
babyhood from which they were scarcely emancipated.
Now it vexes me to think of the matter like this; I reduce
the good Felix to infancy, and yet I do not find myself
in an advantageous position either. Alas! what a differ-
ence it makes whether one is judging oneself or other
peoples!” -
{ “280 7)

CHAPTER XII.

Wilhelm to Natalia.

| «IT mavE been walking about for days, and cannot make
up my mind to set pen to paper, there are so many things
to tell: in speaking, perhaps, one thing would connect
itself with another; one thing, too, would easily develop
| itself out of the other. Let me then, the absent one,
| begin only with what is most general; it will yet lead
|

 

me at last to the strange matter that I have to impart.
“You have heard of the youth who, walking on the sea-
shore, found a rudder-pin; the interest that he felt in it
impelled him to procure a rudder as necessarily belonging
to it. But this too was of no further use to him. He
"earnestly desired to get a boat, and succeeded in doing so.
Yet boat, rudder, and rudder-pin were of no particular
use; he provided himself with masts and sails, and so,
piece by piece, with whatever is requisite for speed and
convenience in navigation. By efforts adapted to his ends
he attained to greater aptitude and dexterity; fortune
favours him, he sees himself at last master and owner of a
larger vessel, and so success increases; he wins wealth,
respect, and a good name amongst the seafarers.*

“In causing you to read this pretty story again, I must
confess that it is appropriate here only in the widest sense,
yet it gives me an opening for expressing that which I
have to say. Meanwhile, I must run through something
still more remote.

“The capabilities that lie in men can be divided into

* Goethe had made use of this story before, in his journey on the
Rhine in the years 1814-15.—D. :
   

270 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

general and special; the general are to be regarded as
activities in a state of balanced repose, which are aroused
by circumstances, and directed accidentally to this or that
end. Man’s faculty of imitation is general : he will make
or form in imitation of what he sees, even without the
slightest inward and outward means to that end. Itis
always natural, therefore, that he should wish to do what
he sees to be done : the most natural thing, however, would
be that the son should embrace the occupation of his
father. In this case it is all in one, a decided activity in
an original direction, with probably an inborn faculty for
a special end ; then a resultant and gradually progressive

i

|

PRISER SOS aes a Pe h

exercise and a developed talent, that would have com- i

pelled us to proceed upon the beaten path, even if other
impulses are developed within us, and a free choice might
have led us to an occupation for which nature has given
us neither capacity nor perseverance. On the average,
therefore, those men are the happiest who find an oppor-
tunity of cultivating an inborn, family talent in the
domestic circle. We have seen painter-pedigrees of this
sort: amongst them there have been feeble talents, it is
true, but in the meantime, they have brought to light
something useful, and perhaps better than they would
have achieved with moderate powers in any other depart-
ment of their own choice.

« But as this, too, is not what I wanted to say, I must
try to approach my subject from some other side.

«This is the pity of friends being far apart, that the
intermediate and auxiliary members of our thoughts which
in mutual presence, are reciprocally developed and inter-
woven as swiftly as lightning, cannot be produced and
expressed in momentary connection and association. Here
then, in the first place, is one of the earliest of children’s
tales.

“We children, brought up in an ancient and sober city,
had acquired the ideas of streets, squares, and walls, and
soon, also, of ramparts, of the glacis, and of the adjoining
walled gardens. But our parents, in order to take us, or
Cuar. XI1.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 271

rather themselves, once into the open country, had for a
long time arranged, though it was continually deferred, a
party, with some friends in the country. At last, one
~ Whitsuntide, the invitation and proposal came more press-
ingly, and was agreed to, but only on the condition that
everything should be so arranged that we might be home
again by night-time; for to sleep out of one’s long-accus-

tomed bed seemed to be an impossibility. To concentrate

~ the pleasures of the day into so narrow a space was cer-

tainly difficult; two friends had to be visited, and their

claims to so infrequent an entertainment satisfied ; how-

ever, with great punctuality, there were hopes of carrying
it all out.
“On the third day of the holidays all were standing, at

the earliest hour, cheerful and ready. The carriage drew

up at the appointed time. We had left all confinements

| of streets, gates, bridges, and town-ditches behind us; an

open far-extending world spread itself before our inex-

| perienced eyes. The green of cornfields and meadows
| lately refreshed by rain in the night, the tint more or less
- bright of buds on hedges and trees just bursting forth,

 

the dazzling whiteness of the tree-blossoms diffusing itself

on all sides, everything gave us a foretaste of happy Eden-
like hours.

“We arrived in due time at the first halting-place, the
house of a worthy clergyman. Our cordial reception soon
assured us that the ecclesiastical feast now concluded was
no detriment to spirits seeking rest and refreshment. I
regarded the rural household for the first time with
pleased interest—plough and harrow, wagon and cart,
betrayed their immediate use; even the repulsive-looking
manure seemed the most indispensable in the whole circuit,
for it was carefully collected, and, to a certain degree, neatly
stored up. Yet this first glance, directed to what was new
and yet intelligible, was soon riveted by a treat: appe-
tizing cakes, new milk, and many other country dainties
were greedily regarded by us. Then the children, for-
gaking the little garden-plot and the hospitable arbour,
quickly busied themselves in performing, in the adjoining
spinney, a task which an old, kindly-disposed aunt had
given them. That was to gather as many cowslips as
   

272 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IL |

possible, and carefully take them back to town with them,
for the thrifty goodwife was in the habit of making all
sorts of wholesome beverages of them.

« Whilst thus employed in the meadows, we were run-
ning backwards and forwards along banks and hedges,
several of the village-children joined us, and the sweet
scent of the gathered spring-flowers seemed to grow more
and more refreshing and balmy. We had by this time
collected such a mass of stalks and flowers that we did not
know what to do with them. Now we began to pick off
the yellow coronals, for it was really only with these that
we had to do; each tried to fill his little hat or cap as full
as possible.

« However, the eldest of these boys, the fisherman’s
son, who was a little older than myself, a boy who had at
once especially attracted me by his serious demeanour, did
not seem to enjoy this trifling over flowers, and he invited
me to walk with him to the river, which, already of con-
siderable breadth, flowed by at a short distance. We sat
down, with a couple of fishing-rods; in a shady place,
where in the deep, clear, calm water many little fishes were *
darting hither and thither. He good-naturedly showed
me what to do, and how the bait was to be fastened on the
hook, and several times I was successful in whisking into
the air, against their will, the smallest of these delicate
creatures. As we were thus sitting quietly leaning against
each other, he seemed to get tired of it, and made me
observe a flat, pebbly bank which projected into the stream
from our side, and that there was a most beautiful oppor-
tunity for a bathe. ‘He could not help trying it, he
cried at last, springing up, and before I was aware, he
was down, undressed, and in the water.

“ As he swam very well, he soon left the shallow place,
abandoned himself to the stream, and soon came up to me
in the deeper water. Quite a strange feeling came over
me: grasshoppers were dancing about me, ants were
crawling towards me, coloured beetles were clinging to
the twigs, and gold-gleaming ‘sun-maidens,’ as he had
called them, were hovering and flitting spirit-like at my
feet, just as he, pulling out a great cray-fish from between
some roots, held it up merrily, and then cleverly concealed
Cuar. XII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 273

it again at the old place with what we had caught before.
It was so warm and sultry all around, one yearned to be
out of the sun and in the shade, out of the cool shade in
the still cooler water below. So it was easy for him to
entice me down ; I found an invitation, not often repeated,
irresistible, and what with fear of my parents, and timidity
about the unfamiliar element in addition, I was quite
strangely excited. But soon undressed upon the gravel, I
ventured gently into the water, but not deeper than was
due to the gradually sloping bottom. Here he let me linger,
went to some distance in the sustaining element, came
back, and when he got out and stood up to dry himself in
the fuller sunshine, my eyes seemed to be dazzled by a
triple sun; so fair was the human form, of which I had
never had any idea. He seemed to look at me with equal

| attention. Though quickly dressed, we still seemed to
stand unclothed before each other; our spirits drew to-

friendship.

gether, and amidst the most ardent kisses we swore eternal

“But then swiftly, swiftly, we betook ourselves home,

| just at the right moment, as the party were setting out on

 

the most delightful footpath, for about an hour and a half,
through bush and wood, to the bailiff’s dwelling. My
friend accompanied me; we already seemed inseparable;
but when, about half-way there, I asked permission to take
him into the bailiff’s house, the pastor's wife refused, with
a quiet hint about the impropriety: on the other hand,
she gave him a strict injunction to tell his father when he
came in, that she must be sure on her return home to find
some fine crayfish, that she wished to give her guests to
take back to the city as a rarity. The boy went off, but
pledged himself with hand and lips to wait for me in
the evening at this corner of the wood. ee
“The party soon reached the bailiff’s, where we also found

"a rural household, but of a higher style. A dinner delayed

in consequence of the housewife’s being over-busy, did not

make me impatient; for a stroll in a well-kept pleasure-
' garden, in which the daughter, who was somewhat younger

than I, accompanied me to show me the way, was very
agreeable to me. Spring flowers of every kind grew in
tastefully laid-out plots, filling them or decking their
| T
274 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II. ’

edges. My companion was beautiful, fair-haired, and
gentle; we walked confidentially together, soon held each
other by the hand, and seemed to wish for nothing better.
Thus we walked past tulip-beds, past narcissuses and jon-
quils in rows; she showed me several places where the

most splendid hyacinth-bells had already just gone off.
On the other hand, provision had been made for the.

coming seasons too; the plants of future ranunculuses

and anemones were already green; the care bestowed

upon numerous carnation slips promised the most abundant
bloom; but the hope of many-flowered lily-stems, very
wisely distributed amongst roses, was already budding
more nearly. And how many were the bowers that
promised presently both the beauty and the shade of
honeysuckle, jasmine, and vine-like and creeping kinds
of growth!

“ When I look back, after so many years, at my situation
on that occasion, it seems to me really enviable. Unex-
pectedly, at the same moment, the premonition of friend-
ship and love seized me: for when I unwillingly took
leave of the beautiful child, I comforted myself with the
thought of disclosing these feelings to my young friend,
of confiding in him, and of enjoying his sympathy together
with these fresh sentiments.

«“ And if I add one more remark here, I may perhaps
confess that in the course of life that first out-blooming
of the exterior world has appeared to me as the real
original mature, in comparison with which all else that
later appeals to our senses seem to be but copies, which at
every comparison with the former are deficient in that
peculiarly original spirit and sense.

« How we must have despaired at seeing so cold, so
lifeless an outward life, had not something revealed itself
in our heart that glorifies Nature in quite another way,
whilst manifesting a creative power to beautify ourselves
in her.

“Tt was already dusk when we again approached the
corner of the wood, where my young friend had promised
to wait for me. I strained my eyesight to its utmost
extent to descry his presence; and when I was unsuc-
cessful in this, 1 impatiently hurried in front of the party,

 
 

Crear. XII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 275

who walked leisurely, running to and fro amongst the
bushes. I called out, I worried myself; he was not to be
seen, nor did he answer ; for the first time I experienced,
in double and manifold degree, a passionate grief.

« The unmeasured demands of confidential affection had
already developed themselves in me, there was already an
irresistible need to unburden my soul, by talking, of the
image of that fair-haired one, to relieve my heart of the
emotions which she had awakened in me. It was full,
the lips already muttered, to overflowing. I blamed
the good boy aloud for violated friendship, for broken
faith.

«But heavier trials were soon in store for me. From out
of the first houses of the village rushed shrieking women,
followed by screaming children ; no one gave information
or answer. Round the corner house on one side we saw a
sad procession approach ; it moved slowly along the street;
it seemed like a funeral, but of more complicated character ;
there was no end to the bearing and carrying along. The
shrieking continued, increased, the crowd thickened:
¢ They are drowned—all drowned together!’ ‘He! who?
which?’ The mothers who saw their children about them
seemed consoled. But a serious-looking man came up,
and said to the pastor's wife, ‘Unhappily, I stayed out
too long; Adolphus has been drowned with four others;
he wished to keep his promise and mine.’ The man—it
was the fisherman himself—walked on after the proces-
sion ; we stood shocked and astounded. Then a little boy
came up, holding out a bag: ‘Here are the crayfish,
madam!’ and held the token high in the air. All were
horrified at it, as at a thing of most evil omen : they ques-
tioned, inquired, and heard thus much : this last child had
remained on the bank and picked up the crayfish that
they threw to him from below. But then, after much
questioning and cross-questioning, they found out that
Adolphus and two sensible boys had gone down to and
into the water; two others, younger, had joined them
unasked, and could not be kept back by any scolding and
threats. The first two had almost got across a rocky and
dangerous place; the other two slipped, seized hold of
and kept pulling each other underneath. The same thing

2
276 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

occurred at last to the foremost two also, and they all
sank in the deep water. Adolphus, being a good swimmer,
would have saved himself, but in their terror they all
hung on to him, and he was dragged down. This little
one had then run screaming into the village, holding his
bag of crayfish tight in his hands. The fisherman, acci-
dentally late on his way home, ran off with others who
were alarmed; they had dragged them out one after the
other, found that they were dead, and were now bringing
them in.

“The pastor, together with the father, walked sadly
towards the town-house; the full moon had risen, and
shone on the path of death. I followed in passionate
grief; they would not let me in, I was in a terrible con-
dition. 1 walked round and round the house without
resting ; at last I saw my opportunity, and sprang in at
the open window.

«In the large room, where meetings of all kinds are held,
lay the unfortunates, stretched naked upon straw, dazzling
white corpses, shining also in the dim lamplight. I threw
myself upon the tallest—my friend. I had no words to
express my condition; I wept bitterly, and deluged his
broad breast with unceasing tears. I had heard some-
thing of rubbing, which in such a case was said to be of use.
I rubbed in my tears, and cheated myself with the warmth
that I excited. Amidst my confusion, I thought of breath-
ing breath into him, but the pearly rows of his teeth were
fast locked; the lips, on which the parting kiss still
seemed to remain, refused even the slightest symptom of
response. Despairing of human aid, I had recourse to
prayer: I implored, I prayed. It seemed to me as if at
this moment I must perform a miracle to call forth the
still indwelling soul, to lure it in again if still hovering
near. 1 was torn away, weeping, sobbing. I sat in the
carriage, and scarcely understood what my parents were
saying. Our mother, as I afterwards heard so often
repeated, had resigned herself to God's will. In the
meanwhile I had fallen asleep, and awoke gloomily, late
next morning, in a doubtful and confused condition.

“But when I went to breakfast I found my mother, my
aunt, and the cook in weighty consultation. The cray-

ft a)

 
Crap. XII.) WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 277

fish were not to be boiled nor brought to table; my father
would not endure such a direct reminiscence of the
calamity that had so lately occurred. The aunt seemed
to wish most eagerly to possess herself of these uncommon
creatures, but at the same time blamed me for our having
forgotten to bring the cowslips with us. However, she
soon seemed to be pacified about this, when those mis-
shapen creatures crawling alive over each other were
handed over to her free disposal, whereupon she took
counsel with the cook as to their further treatment.

« But to make the significance of this scene clear, I must
say something more of the character and personality of
this woman. The peculiarities by which she was governed
one could not by any means praise from a moral point of
view; and yet from a civic and political point of view
they produced many a good result. She was, in the
proper sense of the word, miserly; for she regretted
every mere penny that she had to spend, and for her
requirements she looked about everywhere for substitutes
that could be got for nothing, by exchange, or in any sort
of fashion. Thus the cowslips were intended for tea,
which she maintained to be more wholesome than any
Chinese sort. God had given every land what was neces-
sary, whether for food, for relish, or for medicine; on that
account one need not have recourse to foreign countries.
So in a little garden she cultivated everything that, after
her notions, would make food palatable, or would be use-
ful to the sick. She never visited another person’s garden
without taking away with her something of the sort.

«This disposition and whatever resulted from it could
well be pardoned, since her diligently-hoarded cash would
after all be for the benefit of the family. In this matter,
too, our father and mother managed to give in completely
to her and be accommodating.

« Another propensity, however, one of activity, and inde-
fatigably asserting itself, was a pride in being regarded
as an important and influential person. And, in truth,
she had deserved and attained this reputation, for she was
clever enough to turn to her own advantage the useless,
and often indeed mischievous, gossip current amongst
women, Everything that went on in the town, and con-
278 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book II.

sequently even the private affairs of families, was accu-
rately known to her, and it was not often that any matter
of dispute arose without her having contrived to mix
herself up in it, in which she was the more successful
inasmuch as she always tried to be of some use, but
managed thereby to increase her reputation and good
name. Many a match had she made with which one side
at least probably remained satisfied. But what she gave
her attention to most was the furthering and assisting
of such persons as were seeking an office or appointment,
whereby she really gained a large number of clients, of
whose influence she was able to avail herself in return.

«The widow of an official of some importance, an upright
and strict man, she yet had learnt how those whom one
cannot get at by any considerable overtures are gained
over by trifles.

« However, to keep on the beaten path without further
digression, be it said at once that she had contrived to
gain great influence over a man who occupied an im-
portant office. He was miserly like her, and, to his own
misfortune, equally gluttonous and fond of dainties; so
to set on the table before him, on any pretext, a tasty
dish, was always her chief anxiety. His conscience was
not one of the most sensitive ; but his courage and audacity
had also to be called into request, whenever in dubious
cases he had to overcome the opposition of his colleagues
and stifle the voice of duty which they brought to bear
against him.

«It was precisely this case now—that she was favouring
an unworthy individual: she had done all she could to
push him in, the matter had taken a favourable turn for
her, and now the crayfish, of which the like were indeed
rarely seen, luckily came to her assistance. They were
to be carefully fed up, and served up at intervals on the
table of her distinguished patron, who commonly dined
alone very sparely.

“ As to other matters, the unfortunate calamity gave
occasion to a good deal of talk and social excitement. My
father was one of the first who on this occasion was im-
pelled by a spirit of general benevolence to extend his
consideration and care beyond the limits of his family and

 
Cmar. XII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 279

of the town. He was interested, in conjunction with
certain intelligent physicians, and those connected with
the police, in overcoming the great obstacles which at
first opposed inoculation for smallpox. Greater careful-
ness in the hospitals, more humane treatment of prisoners,
and other kindred objects, were the end and aim of his
life, or at any rate of his reading and thinking; and as
he used to give utterance to his convictions on all occasions,
he thus effected a great deal of good.

“ He looked upon the association of citizens, to whatever
form of government it might be subjected, as a natural
condition which had its good and its bad side—its ordinary
courses, its years of plenty and scarcity alternately, and
hailstorms, floods, and fires, no less accidentally and
irregularly : the good to be seized and used, the bad to
be avoided or endured. But nothing, he considered, was
more desirable than the diffusion of universal goodwill,
independently of every other consideration.

“ As a natural consequence of such a disposition he must
now needs be determined to bring again under discussion
a matter of benevolence that had already been mooted
before : this was the resuscitation of such as were thought
to be dead, in whatever way, moreover, the outward signs
of life might have been lost. During conversations of
this sort I now learnt that in the case of these children
the reverse of what was right had been tried and applied,
nay, that, in a certain sense, they had been killed. It
was furthermore maintained that by opening a vein they
might perhaps all have been saved. In my youthful
‘ardour, I therefore determined in silence that I would
spare no opportunity of learning everything that might
be needful in such a case, especially blood-letting, and
whatever else there might be of like sort.

“ But how soon did daily routine carry me away! The
need for friendship and love had been awakened ; I looked
round about me everywhere to satisfy it. Meanwhile
sensibility, imagination, and intellect were occupied
beyond measure by the theatre: how far I was here led,
and misled, I must not repeat.

«But if after this circumstantial narrative I have still
280 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL

to confess that I am as far as ever from the goal of my
intention, and that I can only hope to arrive at it by a
circuitous route, what am I to say? How can I excuse
myself? In any case I should have to bring forward
what follows. If it is allowable to the humorist to mix
up his matter in minutest confusion, when he impudently
leaves it to his reader to find out at last in half-meanings
what —if anything—is to be got out of it, should it not
be permitted to the intelligent and rational man to work
in a strange-seeming way towards many points, so that
one may at last see them reflected and concentrated in
one focus, and may learn to understand how the most
varied influences surrounding a man drive him to a con-
clusion which he would have been able to attain in no
other way, either through inward impulse or outward
motive ?

« From the many things which still remain for me to
say, I have the choice as to which I shall take first; but
this too, is a matter of indifference. You must just possess.
your soul in patience, read and read on; for at last there
will suddenly dawn upon you, and seem quite natural,
that which spoken in one word would have struck you
as exceedingly strange, and in fact to such a degree, that
you would hardly have cared afterwards to give a moment
to these introductions in the form of explanations.

«But that I way now in some sort get in the right
direction, I will take a glance back at that rudder-pin
again, and call to mind a conversation that I was
accidentally led to hold with our tried friend Jarno—
whom I met in the mountains under the name of Montan
—and which awakened certain feelings of my own in a
very special way. The circumstances of our life have a
mysterious course which cannot be calculated. You re-
member, doubtless, that case which your skilful surgeon
brought out when you came to help me as I lay prostrate
and wounded in the forest? It flashed in my eyes at
that time with such effect, and made so deep an impres-
sion, that I was quite delighted when I found it again,
years after, in the hands of a younger man.* He attached

* See the ¢ Apprenticeship’ (transl.), pp. 400, 407, 511.

 
 

Cuar. XII.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 281

no particular value toit ; instruments altogether had been
improved in more recent times, and were better adapted
to their purpose, and I obtained it all the more easily
as the acquisition of a new set was thereby facilitated.
From that time I always carried it about with me, not
to make any use of it, it is true; but in order to be surer
of comforting recollections; it was a witness to the
moment when my good fortune began, at which I was
to arrive only after a long circuit.

“By chance Jarno saw it when we spent the night at
the charcoal-burner’s; and he recognised it at once, and
in reply to my explanation said:

«“¢T have nothing to object to a man’s setting up such
a fetish in memory of many an unlooked-for benefit, or
of important results from some ordinary circumstance ; it
elevates us as something that points to an Incompre-
hensible, stimulates us in difficulties, and encourages
our hopes ; but it would be a finer thing if you had let
yourself be enticel, through those tools, to understand
their use also, and to accomplish what they mutely
demand of you.’

“<TLet me confess, I replied thereto, ‘that this has
occurred to me a hundred times; an inner voice stirred
within me, bidding me recognise in this my peculiar
vocation.’

«1 thereupon told him the story of the drowned boys,
and how I had heard then that they might have been
saved, if they had been bled. ¢I intended to learn how
to do it; but every hour made the intention weaker.’

“¢Then seize it now!’ replied he. ‘I have for long
seen you occupied with matters that concern and bear
upon the human spirit, disposition, heart, and whatever
you call it all. But what have you thereby gained for
yourself and others? Sorrows of the mind into which
we have fallen by misfortune or our own faults; to heal
these intellect can do nothing, reason little, time much ;
resolute activity, on the other hand, everything. In this
every one works with and for himself; that you have
experienced in yourself and others.’

« He attacked me with angry and bitter words, as is his
wont, and said many hard things that I do not care to
282 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IL.

repeat. ‘There is nothing,” he concluded at last, ¢ better i
worth the trouble of learning and doing than to assist
the healthy man when he is injured by some accident or

other; with prudent treatment, nature easily restores
itself: the sick must be left to the physician; but no one
needs a surgeon more than the sound and healthy man.
In the quietude of country life, in the narrowest family
circle, he is just as welcome as in and after the turmoil of
battle; in the sweetest moments, as in the bitterest and
most terrible, evil fate prevails everywhere, more dread-
ful than death itself, and not a whit less ruthless, nay,
after a fashion, yet more noxious, more destructive to
pleasure and to life.’

“You know him, and can imagine without effort that he
spared me as little as the world. But he inclined most
strongly to the argument which he directed against me in
the name of the society at large.

«¢« Your universal culture,” said he, ‘and all institutions
for that end, are foolishness. The thing is, that a man
should understand something quite definitely, do it with
an excellence which scarce anyone else in the immediate
neighbourhood could attain; and in our association par-

ticularly this is a self-evident matter. You are just of.

an age when a man forms any plan with intelligence,
judges what lies before him with discernment, grapples
with it from the right side, and directs his capacities and
abilities to the right end.

“ Why, then, need I proceed to express what is a self-
understood matter? He made it clear to me that I could
obtain a dispensation from the restless life so strangely
enjoined, though it might be difficult for me to obtain it.
‘You are one of that sort of men,” he said, ‘ who easily
grow accustomed to a place, but not to an occupation. To
all such a restless state of life is prescribed, in order, per-
haps, that they may attain to a surer manner of life. If
you will devote yourself in earnest to the most divine of
all employments, to heal without miracles, and to perform
miracles without words, I will use my influence in your
favour.’ So he spoke hurriedly, adding all such cogent
reasons as his eloquence was able to muster.

  
  
| Car, XII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 283

| «Here, then, I am disposed to make an end : but you shall
very soon learn circumstantially how I have made use of
the permission to remain a longer time at certain places;
' how I have succeeded in applying myself to the profession
| for which I have always had a secret liking, and of tho-
| roughly training myself therein. Enough, in the great
undertaking for which you are preparing yourself, I shall
' prove myself a useful, a necessary member of the society,
and I shall fall into your paths with a certain assurance—
with some amount of pride; for to be worthy of you is a
laudable pride.”

|

|

i
]
284 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS.

BOOK III

 

CHAPTER 1.

AFTER all this, and whatever followed upon it, Wilhelm’s
first anxiety was to come into contact again with the

guild-brethren, and to meet with some portion or other of |

them, wherever it might be. He therefore consulted his

little diagram, and took the road which promised to bring
him sooner than the others to his goal. But since, in
order to reach the most favourable point, it was necessary |
for him to-go across country, he found himself obliged to
make the journey on foot, and to have his baggage carried
after him. However, at every step he was richly rewarded

for his walk, for he encountered unexpectedly the most |

lovely scenery. It was such as the last mountainous tracts
form as they merge into the plains—wooded hills, gentle
declivities used for husbandry, all the surfaces green, and
nowhere aught that was rugged, unfruitful, or untilled to
be seen. He now arrived at the main valley, into which
the tributary streams poured themselves; this, too, was
carefully tilled, and pleasant to behold: slender trees
marked the bends of the river that flowed through it, and
of the streams that poured into it; and when he took up
the map that was his guide, he saw, to his astonishment,
that the line drawn upon it cut right through this
valley, and that thus he was at any rate upon the right
path.

An old castle, in a good state of preservation, having
been renovated at various periods, was conspicuous upon
a woody hill ; spreading outward from its foot lay a cheer-
ful-looking village, in which an inn that stood out pro-

 

 

 
|
{

|

Rouse. 1.1 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 285

2

gi

. minently caught the eye. He walked up to the latter, and
4 was received in a very friendly manner by the host, but

4 with the excuse that he could not take him in without the
J permission of a party who had hired the whole house for
b a time, on which account he was obliged to refer all guests

TR A i Ree

| to the older hostelry, that lay further up.

After a short parley, the man seemed to think better of
it, and said, ¢“ As a matter of fact, there is no one as yet in
the house; but it happens to be Saturday, and it cannot
be long before the bailiff, who settles the accounts every
week and gives his orders for the next, arrives. In truth
there is a nice regularity amongst these people, and it is
a pleasure to deal with them, although they are rather
close. For if there certainly is no great profit, it is a
sure one.” Therewith he bade the new guest remain
patiently in the large upper hall, and await what further
might occur.

Here he found, on entering, a spacious and neat apart-
ment, quite empty but for benches and tables; so much
the more did he wonder on seeing a large tablet placed
above a door, upon which, in letters of gold, were to
be read the words Ubi homines sunt, modi sunt, which.
we interpret to the effect that wherever men meet
together in social life, there the way and fashion in
which they can exist and remain together are evolved.
This motto gave our wanderer food for thought; he took
it as a good omen, that here he found confirmed what he
had often in the course of his life recognised as reasonable
and helpful. It was not long before the bailiff made
his appearance, who, having been instructed beforehand,
admitted him, after a short conversation and no particular
investigation, on the following conditions: that he should
stay three days, should quietly take part in all that went
on, and whatever might happen, should not inquire the
reason, and still less should not, on his departure, ask for
the reckoning. All this the traveller was forced to
agree to, since the deputy, as such, could not give in in
any point. :

The bailiff was just about to depart, when a song
resounded up the stairs: two beautiful young men ap-
proached singing, whom the bailiff by a simple sign gave
suai

286 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL 1

to understand that the guest was accepted. Without |
interrupting their song, they greeted him kindly, grace-
fully singing a duet, and it was easy to see that they
were in perfect practice, and masters of their craft. As
Wilhelm showed the most attentive appreciation, they
stopped and asked him whether in his travels on foot he
too had not often hit upon some song that he thus sang
aloud to himself.

“A good voice,” answered Wilhelm, “has in fact been
denied me by nature, but a hidden genius within me often
seems to inspire me with something rhythmic, so that in
walking I move constantly in time, and at the same time
seem to perceive soft tones by which some song is accom-
panied, that in one way or another pleasantly presents
itself to me.”

“If you remember any one of the sort, write it down for
us,” said he; «we should like to see whether we are able
to accompany your singing damon.”

Hereupon he took a leaf from his note-book and handed
them the following stanza :

 

“ From the mountain heights descending,

Down the slopes, the vale along,

Hark! a wing-like flutter, blending
With a movement as of song.

And on unrestricted roving
Joy attends and prudent heed:

Let thy striving be with loving,
Let thy life consist in deed.”

After a short time for thought there forthwith sounded
a lively duet, timed to marching pace, which, with all
repetition and abridgment, went constantly forward and
carried away the hearers with it; he was in doubt whether
this was his own melody, his former theme, or whether it
was only now so adapted to it that no other movement
was conceivable. In this way the singers had proceeded
pleasantly for some time, when two sturdy fellows entered,
whom one recognised at once by their attributes as masons;
but two who followed them, one must needs regard as car-
penters. These four, gently laying down their tools, list-
ened to the song, and presently joined in with sureness
and decision, so that one had the sensation of a whole
Cuar. L] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 287

company of travellers marching onward over mountain
and valley, and Wilhelm thought that he had never heard
anything so graceful and so elevating to heart and mind.
This enjoyment, however, was to be further increased and
heightened to the last degree, when a gigantic figure
mounted the steps, and with the best intentions was
scarcely able to moderate his powerful, heavy tread. He
proceeded to stand a heavily-packed porter’s frame in the
corner, but sat himself down upon a bench, which began
to crack—at which the others laughed, yet without falling
out of the song. But very much astonished was Wilhelm
when this son of Anak immediately began to join in with
a tremendous bass voice. The hall trembled, and it was
noticeable that he, in his part, at once altered the refrain,
and sang it, in fact, in this shape:
“Day by day be not unmoving,
Let thy life be deed on deed.”

Moreover, one could very soon see that he brought down
the time to a slower pace, and obliged the others to adapt
themselves to him. When at length they had come to an
end, and had fully satisfied themselves, the others up-
braided him as if he had tried to mislead them.

“Not at all,” he exclaimed; *it-is you who tried to
mislead me: you were for throwing me out of my step,
which must be measured and sure when I trudge with my
burden up hill and down dale, and yet must at last come
at the appointed hour and satisfy you.”

One after the other now went in to the bailiff, and Wil-
helm could easily see that the business was about settling
accounts, as to which he did not venture to make further
inquiry. In the meantime there came a couple of lively,
handsome boys, who laid a table in haste, providing it
moderately with eatables and wine, to which the bailiff,
who came out of his room, now invited all to sit down
with him. The boys waited upon them, but they did not
forget to look after themselves too, and ate their share
standing. Wilhelm called to mind similar scenes when he
still dwelt amongst the actors; but the present party
seemed to him much more earnest, intent not on amuse-
ment in representation, but on important aims in life.
288 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

The conversation between the craftsmen and the bailiff
gave the guest the clearest knowledge on this point. The
four sturdy young fellows were employed in the neigh-
bourhood, where a destructive fire had laid a most beautiful
country-town in ashes; nor did he fail to hear that the
honest bailiff was engaged in procuring timber and other
building materials. This seemed the more inexplicable to
the guest, inasmuch as the men, one and all, were not
natives of the place, but in every other respect were evi-
dently passing travellers. At the end of the meal St.
Christopher, for so they named the giant, fetched from
one side a good glass of wine, by way of a sleeping-draught,
and a lively song held the party together for a time, for
the ear, when for the eye they had already dispersed.
Wilhelm, thereupon, was conducted to a chamber of most
pleasant aspect. The full-moon, illuminating a luxuriant
plain, was already up, and awakened in the breast of our

1
it
i

wanderer recollections of similar and equally beautiful *
scenes. The spirits of all his dear friends passed in pro-

cession before him; but Lenardo’s figure especially was
so life-like to him, that he fancied he saw him standing
actually before him. All this was giving him an inward
disposition for his nightly rest, when he was almost fright-
ened by a most extraordinary noise. It sounded from the
distance, and yet seemed to be in the house itself, for the
house frequently shook, and the timbers groaned when
the sound mounted to its highest strength. Wilhelm, who
in general had a delicate ear to distinguish all sounds,
could make nothing of it ; he compared it with the droning
of a large organ-pipe, that from sheer size is unable to
give out any definite tone. Whether this night-terror
ceased towards morning, or whether Wilhelm, by degrees
accustomed to it, was no longer sensible of it, is difficult
to ascertain ;* in fine, he fell asleep, and was pleasantly
aroused by the rising sun.

Scarcely had one of the waiting-boys brought him break-
fast, when a figure entered whom he had noticed at supper,
without being clear as to his peculiar qualities. He was a
well-built, broad-shouldered, and active man withal, who by

* No further information is given. Diintzer supposes that some
diversion of “St. Christophers ” is suggested. —Eb.

%

3
;
:
Cuar. 1] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 289

his implements exhibited to view announced himself as a
barber, and made himself ready to render to Wilhelm this
s0 requisite service. At the same time he remained silent,
and the business was accomplished with a very light hand,
without his having emitted a single sound.

Wilhelm therefore began, and said, “ You are a master-
hand at your business, and I do not know that I have
ever felt a gentler blade upon my cheeks; but at the
same time you seem to pay strict observance to the laws
of the society.”

With a sly smile, and laying his finger on his lips, he
slipped mutely out of the door.

“In very truth,” called Wilhelm after him, “you must
be ¢ Redcloak,” * or, if not himself, at least a descendant of
his. 1t is fortunate for you that you do not require a
return of your service from me. You would have come
off badly.”

Scarcely had this extraordinary man departed when
our friend the bailiff entered, proffering an invitation to
dinner that mid-day, which also ran somewhat strangely.
The Bond—so the inviter expressly stated—bade the
friend welcome, invited him to the mid-day meal, and
flattered itself with the hope of coming into nearer rela-
tions with him. It further inquired after the guest’s
well-being, and how he was satisfied with the accommo-
dation, to which he could only reply with praise of every-
thing that he had encountered. It is true that he would
have liked to inquire of this man, as of the mute barber
before, about the horrible noise which had disturbed, if
not distressed him in the night; yet, mindful of his
promise, he refrained from every question, and hoped,
without being importunate, to be enlightened in accord-
ance with his wishes, either through the complaisance of
the society or by some chance.

When our friend found himself alone, he at last began
to think about the strange person who had sent him the
invitation, and he did not know what to make of it. To
designate one or more leaders by means of a neuter

# The spectral barber in Musaeus’s tale ¢ Stumme Liebe’: he wears
a scarlet cloak on his left shoulder ; and after completing an operation
he claims a like service in return.—D. :
: U
290 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL

substantive, seemed to him rather dubious. For the rest,
all was so quiet about him here that he thought he had
never spent a quieter Sunday. He went out of doors;
but hearing the sound of bells, he walked towards the
little town. Mass was just over, and amongst the towns-
folk and the peasants who were thronging out he saw the
three acquaintances of yesterday, a journeyman carpenter,
a mason, and a boy. Later he noticed amongst the
Protestant worshippers the three others. What form of
worship the others professed remained unknown to him :
thus much, however, he was confident in eoncluding, that
in this society a very decided freedom in religion pre-
vailed.
At noon the bailiff came to meet him at the castle-door,
to conduct him through various halls into a large vesti-
_bule, where he bade him sit down. A geod many people
kept walking past into an adjoining saloon. Those he
knew already were to be seen amongst them: even St.
Christopher went by. They all grected the bailiff and
the visitor. What struck our friend here most, was that
he seemed to see none but artizans; all clad in their
ordinary dress, but with extreme neatness; there were
few whom, at best, he would have taken to be of the
scrivener class.
As soon as no new guests continued to press in, the
bailiff led our friend through the stately portal into a
spacious hall. There an interminably long table was
spread, from the lower end of which he was conducted to
the top, across which he saw three persons standing.
But with what astonishment was he seized, when he came
near, and Lenardo, hardly yet recognised, fell upon his
neck. He had scarcely recovered from this surprise, when
another person embraced Wilhelm no less ardently and
vigorously, and proclaimed himself to be Natalia’s brother,
the wonderful Friedrich. The delight of the friends in-
fected the whole assembly: words of congratulation and
blessing re echoed along the whole table. But of a
sudden, when they were seated, all was still, and the repast
was served up, and eaten with a certain solemnity.
Towards the end of the meal Ienardo gave a signal.
Two singers stood up, and Wilhelm was much surprised

 
Caar. 1) WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS 291

to hear repeated his song of yesterday, which we find it
necessary, on account of what immediately follows, to
insert once more :

¢“Trom the mountain heights descending,

Down the slopes, the vale along,

Hark ! a wing-like flutter, blending
With a movement as of song.

And on unrestricted roving
Joy attends and prudent heed:

Let thy striving be with loving,
Let thy life consist in deed.”

Hardly had this duet, accompanied by a chorus of
agreeable strength, approached its end, when two other
singers impetuously rose opposite to each other, and with
serious emphasis paraphrased rather than continued the
song; and to the astonishment of the guest expressed
themselves thus :

“Tor the ties are rent asunder,
Contidence is aye foreclosed,
Can 1 tell, or duly ponder
On the haps, to which exposed,
I must now my way be making,
Filled with all a widow’s woe,
Leaving one, another taking,
Onward, onward still to go?”

The chorus striking into this strophe became more and
more numerous, more and more powerful, and yet the
voice of St. Christopher could soon be distinguished from
the lower end of the table. The dirge swelled till at last
it was almost terrible ; a weird mood, by dint of skill on
the part of the singers, introduced something fugue-like
into the whole, so that our friend felt as if he should
shudder. They all really seemed as if they were com-
pletely of one mind, and were lamenting their own
destiny just before their separation. The strangest
repetitions, the frequent revival of an almest expiring
song, seemed at last dangerous to the band itself. Lenardo
stood up, and all, breaking off the hymn, immediately sat
down.

He began, with kindly words: “In truth I cannot
blame you for making ever present to yourselves the fate

U2
292 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boox III.

that confronts us all, so that you may be prepared for it
at any hour. Yet if men weary of life, and full of years,
have cried to their brethren, ¢ Think of dying!’ * so ought
we, we younger men full of life, to be ever encouraging
each other, and admonish ourselves with the cheering
words ¢ Think of wandering!’ But it were well, withal,
to mention with caution and cheerfulness, whatever we
either undertake voluntarily, or think that we are con-
strained to do. You know best what amongst us is fixed,
and what is movable; allow us to enjoy this too in glad
encouraging strains, to which for this time let this part-
ing glass be drunk!”

Thereupon he emptied his goblet and sat down : the four
singers thereupon stood up, and began in flowing self-
connecting tones—

“ Stay not fettered in inaction,

Venture briskly, briskly roam!

Head and arm, in glad connexion,
Everywhere will be at home.

Where beneath the sun we revel
Care with us will ne’er abide;

Space there ig for all to travel,
Therefore is the world so wide.”

On the repetition of the chorus Lenardo stood up, and
all the rest with him; a signal from him set the whole
table in motion in time with the singing: those at the
lower end, headed by St. Christopher, marched out of the
hall in pairs, and the harmonious wanderers’ song grew
more and more joyous and free : but it sounded especially
well when the party, assembled in the terraced castle-
garden, looked over the spacious valley in the luxuriance
and beauty of which one might well have wished to lose
oneself. Whilst they were dispersing themselves on this
side or that at their pleasure, Wilhelm was made
acquainted with the third superior. He was the bailiff,
who, in addition to many other advantages, had been able
to procure for this society, as long as they found it
convenient to stay here, the use of the count’s castle, which
lay amidst several noblemen’s manors: but on the other
hand, being a clever man, had managed to turn the

* [lemento mori was the salutation of the Trappist monks.—D.
Cuar. 1.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 293

presence of such unwonted guests to good account. For
whilst for a moderate payment he opened his nur-
series, and was able to provide aught else that was
helpful for support of life or in time of need, he took the
same opportunity of having long-neglected roofs changed,
rafters replaced, walls propped, planks set straight, and
other defects repaired, to such a degree, that a property
belonging to an expiring family, long neglected and
falling into decay, preserved the cheerful aspect of a
dwelling used for living in, and bore witness that life
creates life, and that he who is useful to others, also puts
them under the necessity of being of use to him.
294 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

CHAPTER IL

Hersilia to Wilhelm.

«My situation appears to me like a tragedy by Alfieri;

when the confidants altogether fail it must all, at last, be

carried on in monologue. And in truth a correspondence

with you is exactly like a monologue: for as a matter
of fact your answers merely superficially take up our

syllables for the purpose of causing them to die gradually

away. Have you in only a single instance made any

reply to which one could say anything in return? Your

letters are all parrying and evasion; when I stand up to

go and meet you, you motion me back again to my seat.

« The above was written some days ago : a fresh necessity
and occasion now occurs for conveying these present to
Lenardo: there they find you, or it is known where you
are to be found. But wherever they may reach you my
remarks come to this, that if, on reading this letter, you
do not immediately jump up from your seat, and like a
pious Wanderer do not speedily present yourself before me,
1 declare you to be the most manlike of all men: that is to
say, one In whom the most lovable of all the character-
istics of our sex is totally wanting: whereby I signify
curiosity, which at this very moment most unmistakably
torments me.

«In short, the little key of your ornamental casket has
been found; but this no one but you and I must know.
How it has come into my hands learn now.

« A few days ago our agent receives a despatch from a
foreign authority, in which the inquiry is made whether
at such and such a time in this neighbourhood a boy has

 
Cuapr. 11.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 295

not been stopping, who was expert in all sorts of tricks,
and who at last forfeited his jacket in some audacious enter-
prise. According to the description of this rascal, no
doubt remains that it is that Fitz of whom Felix had so
much to tell, and whom he so often wished to have for a
playfellow again.

“ Now this note made a request for the aforesaid garment,
if it were still in existence, because the boy on being
subjected to examination had appealed to it. Our agent
accordingly takes an opportunity of mentioning this
presumption, and submits the little jacket to us before he
sends it away.

“ A good or evil spirit impels me to feel in the breast:
pocket; a tiny little angular something comes into my
hand: I, who am in general so apprehensive, nervous and
timid, shut my hand, keep it, say nothing, and the coat is
sent away. The strangest of all sensations immediately
seizes me. At the first stolen peep I see, I guess that it
is the key to your casket. Now came strange conscientious
doubts; all sorts of scruples arose within me. To make
the discovery public, to surrender it, was impossible for
me. Of what interest was it to those magistrates, when
it might be so useful to our friend ? Then many considera:
tions of right and duty again arose, which, however, could
not convince me.

“So you see now in what a situation friendship involves
me. A famous faculty suddenly develops itself for your
sake : what a wonderful occurrence. May it be nothing
more than friendship that holds the balance for my con-
science to such purpose. What between guilt and curiosity
I am marvellously discomposed. I fancy a hundred
whims and stories which may follow on it. Law and
justice are not to be trifled with. Hersilia the careless
and occasionally domineering creature involved in a
criminal prosecution! for that is what it may come to.
And what else can I do but think of the friend, for whose
sake I endure all this? I have thought of you on other
accounts, too, but at intervals; but now it is without
ceasing. Now when my heart throbs, and I think of the
eighth commandment, I must turn to you as to the saint
who has occasioned the trespass, and can presumably
296 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

also absolve me again. And so only the opening of the
casket will pacify me. My curiosity is doubly strong.
Come as soon as you can, and bring the casket with you!
To what judgment-seat the secret properly belongs, we
will make out between us. Till then it remains between
us. Let no one know of it, be it who it will!

“There! But, my friend, now to conclude, what do you
say to this picture of the puzzle? Does it not
remind one of an arrow with barbs? God be
gracious to us! But the casket must first stand
unopened between me and you; and then when
opened, enjoin the rest itself. I should be glad
if nothing at all were found inside: and what
else and all do I not wish ; and what else could
I not tell you?—yet let this be withheld from
you, so that you may the more quickly get on

your way.

~ «And now, girl-like enough, one more postscript!
What, in point of fact, have I and you to do with the
casket? It belongs to Felix; he found it, and entrusted
it to me : we must fetch him here: out of his presence,
we ought not to open it.

« And what conditions are these again! The matter
shifts, and shifts itself again.

“ Why are you roaming about so in the world? Come
here ; bring with you the dear boy. I should like to see
him once more.

« And so there they go again,—father and son. Do what
you can, but come both of you!”
(2977)

CHAPTER III,

Tae preceding extraordinary letter had been written, in
truth, long before, and carried to and fro, until now at last
it could be delivered in accordance with its address.
Wilhelm decided to answer in a friendly manner—but
declining—by the first messenger, who was about to
depart. Hersilia seemed not to take the distance into
account, and he was at present too seriously occupied for
even the slightest curiosity as to what might be found in
the casket to be able to attract him.

Certain mishaps too which had befallen the boldest
members of this brave company, gave him an opportunity
of showing himself a master in the art that he had
adopted. And as one word suggests another, so still more
happily does one deed follow on another, and if finally
occasion is again given thereby for words, they are so
much the more fruitful and elevating to the mind. Their
conversations were therefore as instructive as they were
enjoyable, for the friends reciprocally rendered account of
the progress of their learning and doing hitherto; whence
had ensued such an amount of culture, to their mutual as-
tonishment, that between themselves they must needs
learn to know each other anew.

One evening then Wilhelm began his story :—*“ I forth-
with essayed to pursue my surgical studies at a large
institution in the largest town, in which alone they are
possible : to anatomy, as the fundamental study, I at once
applied myself with zeal.

“By a peculiar method which no one would guess I
had already made good progress in knowledge of the
human frame: and this was during my theatrical career.
When all is properly looked to, the physical man after all
plays the principal part there—a fine man, a fine woman!
208 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL 1

If the manager is lucky enough to have got hold of these,
comedy and tragedy writers are assured. The freer i
footing upon which such society lives, makes their |
associates more familiar with the peculiar beauty of the
uncovered limbs than any other relationship: different

 

costumes even oblige them to make visible what otherwise

is generally concealed. On this point I might have much
to say, as also of physical defects which the sensible
actor must recognize in himself or others, in order if not
to correet, at least to hide them. In this way I was suffi-
ciently prepared to give consistency. to the anatomical |
course which taught me to know the outer parts more
accurately, whilst the inner parts too were not strange to
me, inasmuch as a certain preconception of them had
always been present to me. A disagreeable hindrance to
this study was the continually repeated complaint of the
want of subjects, of the inadequate number of dead bodies
which we desired, for such high ends, to subject to the
knife. To provide these, if not adequately, at any rate
in as large a number as possible, strict laws had been
promulgated: not only criminals, who in every sense
had forfeited their individual existence, but others too,
neglected in body or mind, were laid claim to.

«In proportion to the need, the severity increased, and
therewith the repugnance of the people who in a moral
and religious sense cannot give up their personality, nor
that of persons beloved by them. But the evil increased
more and more, whilst a distracting anxiety arose that
there was occasion to fear for the peaceful graves of be-
loved ones departed. No age, no rank,—mneither high
nor low,—was any longer secure in its resting-place; the
mound which had been decked with flowers, the inscrip-
tions with which they had sought to preserve a memory,—
nothing could give protection from the profitable depreda~
tion; the painfullest separation seemed disturbed in the
most horrible way, and even whilst one turned away from
the grave a fear was felt lest the decently clad and
composed limbs of the beloved ones should be known to
have been severed, misplaced and dishonoured.

«But all this was repeatedly talked of, and discussed
over and over again without any one having thought about
| Cap. 111] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 299

a remedy, or having been able to think of one; and the
complaints became continually more universal when young
men who had listened to the course of lectures with
attention were desirous of convincing themselves also with
hand and eye of what they had hitherto seen and heard,
and of transferring such necessary knowledge more deeply

and vividly to the imagination. At such times there arises
a sort of unnatural scientific famine, which awakens a
craving after the most repulsive sort of satisfaction, as if
it were the most pleasant and necessary.

“ Such deferring and delaying had for some time occupied
and interested those who were keen for knowledge and
action, when at last one morning an occurrence, over which
the whole town was set astir, for some hours passionately.
evoked all the pros and cons. An exceedingly beautiful
girl, distracted by an unhappy love, had sought and found
her death in the water. The anatomical school got
possession of her : all in vain were the efforts of the parents,
the relatives, nay, of the lover himself, who had been the
object of only a false suspicion: the higher authorities,
who had just made the law more stringent, could assent
to no exception, and they even hastened to avail them-
selves of the prize as quickly as possible, and to distribute
it for use.”

Wilhelm,* who as the first candidate was summoned
forthwith, found in front of the seat indicated to him,
up on a plain board neatly covered, a critical task; for
when he took off the covering, there lay exposed to view
the most beautiful female arm that probably had ever
wound itself round a youth’s neck. He held his instru-
ment-case in his hand and did not trust himself to open it;
he stood up, not venturing to sit down. Repugnance to
still further deforming this glorious product of nature
contended with the demand which the eager man of
science had to make upon himself, and which all who sat
around him took care to satisfy.

At this moment there came up to him a man of good
appearance, whom he had noticed —though but seldom—iyet
always as a very attentive listener and observer, and about

* The narrative here passes into the third person: the first posi
is resumed towards the end, p. 304.
300 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL

whom he had already inquired. No one however had
been able to give more exact information: that he was a
sculptor, all were agreed, but he was also held to be an
alchymist, who lived in a large old house, the first floor of
which was alone accessible to visitors or to those who
were employed by him, whilst all the other rooms were |
shut up. This man had at various times approached
Wilhelm, and had gone away from lecture with him, but
yet he seemed to shun any further connexion or explana-
tion.

On this occasion, however, he spoke with a certain
frankness: “I see that you hesitate, you are amazed at the
beautiful form, and are unable to destroy it: put yourself
above professional feeling, and follow me.” Thereupon he
covered up the arm again, made a sign to the servitor, and
the two left the place. They walked side by side in
silence, until the half-known one stopped before a large
gateway, the wicket of which he opened, and obliged our
friend to enter. There he found himself upon a stage,
large and spacious, such as we see in old business-houses
where the cases and bales arriving are at once shipped
away. Here were standing plaster-casts of statues and
busts, as well as boarded receptacles, packed and empty.

«Tt looks businesslike here,” said the man ; the means
of carriage by water possible from here are invaluable
to me.”

Now, all this agreed quite well with the trade of a
sculptor; nor could Wilhelm think otherwise when the
friendly host took him up a few steps into a large room
adorned round about with plaques in high and low relief,
with large and small figures, with busts and separate
members of the most lovely figures. Our friend regarded
all this with pleasure, and gladly listened to his host’
instructive words, although he must needs be conscious of
a wide gulf between these artistic labours and the scientific
aspirations from which they had come away.

At last the owner of the house said with someseriousness :
«My reason for bringing you here, you will soon see.
This door,” he continued, as he turned towards one side,
“is nearer to the door of the hall from which we have
come than you may think.” Wilhelm entered, and in

 
Cuar. IIL] WILHELM MEISTER'’S TRAVELS. 301

truth had occasion for surprise, when, instead of seeing as
before the imitation of living forms, he here found the
walls covered throughout with anatomical dissections,
made it might be of wax or of some other material;
enough, they had throughout the fresh-coloured appear-
ance of preparations that had just been made.

« Here, my friend,” said the artist, « here you see the in-
estimable substitutes for those subjects which we, with the
disapprobation of the world, at unseasonable moments, with
disgust and with great anxiety prepare for destruction
or for a repulsive preservation. I am obliged to carry on
this business in the greatest secrecy ; for you must before
now have heard men of the faculty speak of it with
depreciation. I do not let myself be put out, and I am
preparing something which in the long run will assuredly
have great effect. The surgeon especially, if he elevates
himself to the plastic idea, will certainly be able in every
case of injury to come to the aid of nature, ever recon-
structing with the best effect ; even the physician would
be elevated in his functions by such a conception. Yet
let us not waste many words! You shall learn, in brief,
that building-up teaches more than pulling in pieces,
joining together more than separating, animating what is
dead more than killing over again what is killed : in short,
then, will you be my pupil?” And on his assenting, the
expert laid the skeleton of a woman’s arm in front of his
guest in the same position in which they had seen one
before them a short time before.

«T have had occasion to notice,” continued the master,
«how you have given thorough attention to the subject of
the ligaments, and very properly, for with them the lifeless
heap of bones first begins to live again for us. Ezekiel
had first to see his field of bones join and unite themselves
in this fashion before the limbs could move, the arms feel
about and the feet stand up. Here is pliable material,
small rods, and aught else that may be required ; now try
your luck ! ”

The new pupil collected his thoughts, and when he
began to examine the portions of bone more closely, ho
saw that they were carved artificially from wood.

«T have,” remarked the teacher, “an expert man, whose
302 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

art was going in quest of bread, when the saints and

martyrs whom he had been accustomed to carve no longer |
found a sale. I therefore induced him to master the art |
of skeleton-making, and to practise in life-size and on a
smaller scale after nature.”

Our friend now did his best, and earned the approbation |
of his adviser. It was a pleasure to him to test how
strong or weak his recollection was, and he found to his
satisfaction and astonishment that it was called up again |
by action. He conceived a passion for this work, and
begged of the master to be admitted into hishouse. Here
he worked incessantly ; and the bones, large and small, of
the arm, were very quickly united. But from here were |
to proceed the sinews and muscles, and it seemed a
complete impossibility to readjust in this way the whole
body similarly in all its parts. But on this point the
teacher consoled him by showing him the process of multi-
plication by casting, since otherwise the imitation, and the
perfection of the models, required a fresh effort again and
fresh attention.

Everything to which man applies himself in earnest is
a constant toil; it is only by emulous industry that he
contrives to make head against it. Wilhelm too soon got
over the condition of feeling his inability, which is always
a kind of despair, and felt himself at home in the work.

“J am glad,” said the master, “ that you are able to
adapt yourself to this mode of proceeding, and that you
give me evidence of how fruitful such a method is, even
if it is not recognized by the masters of the faculty. A
school there must be, and this will chiefly occupy itself
with tradition : what has taken place heretofore must con-
tinue to take place in the future: this is good, and must
and shall be. But the point where the school stops short
must be marked and understood ; what is living must be
grasped and made use of, but quietly, or otherwise one is
hindered, and hinders others. You have felt in a living
way, and show it practically. Joining is more than
separating, imitation more than inspection.”

Wilhelm now learnt that such models were, privately,
already widely distributed, but to his greatest astonish-
ment he heard that the stock in hand was to be packed

 
|

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Cuar. III.) WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 303

up to go abroad. This sterling artist had already estab-
lished relations with Lothario and those friends of his:
the establishment of such a school in those self-developing
provinces was considered to be especially fitting, nay,
necessary in the highest degree, especially amongst natu-
rally moral and right-thinking people, for whom actual
dissection has always something cannibal-like.

“If you grant that the greater number of physicians
and surgeons retain in their minds, and believe that they
will get on with, only a general impression of the dissected
human body, then such models will assuredly avail to
revive in their minds the gradually vanishing forms, and
to keep alive in them just what is necessary. Nay, if it
comes to inclination for and love of the subject, the most

delicate results of the science of dissection may be imi-

tated. Pencil, brush and graver already accomplish this.”

Here he opened a side cupboard, and displayed to view
the facial nerves, imitated in the most wonderful manner.
«This, alas,” he said “is the last achievement of a young
assistant who died, who inspired me with the best hopes of
carrying out my ideas, and usefully promoting my aims.”

A great deal was said between the two on the influence

~ of this mode of treatment in many directions: its rela-

tions, too, towards plastic art were the subject of note-
worthy discussion. A strikingly beautiful example of how

to work forwards and backwards in this way was supplied

by this conversation. The master had cast, in a shapely
mass, a beautiful torso of an antique youth, and was now
skilfully trying to divest the ideal form of the epidermis,
to change the beautiful shapes of life into a veritable
preparation of muscular tissue.

“ Here, too, means and end are,too close together, and
I am free to confess that for the sake of the means I have
neglected the end, yet not altogether through my own
fault. Proper'y speaking, man 1s man without covering:
the sculptor stands directly at the side of the Klohim,
when they changed the shapeless repulsive clay into the

most glorious of forms: s ch divine thoughts must he

cherish. To the pure all things are pure; why not the
direct design of God in nature? But one cannot ask this
from this age; fig-leaves and skins of beasts cannot be
304 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

dispensed with, and this is still much too little. I had
scarcely learnt anything when worthy men in dressing-
gowns and wide sleeves and innumerable folds were
required of me. So I withdrew, and since I dared not
apply what I knew to the expression of the beautiful, I
chose to be useful ; and this too is a matter of importance.
If my wish is fulfilled, if it is recognized as practicable
that, as in so many other things, imitating and the
imitation assist imagination and memory in those cases
where the human mind loses a certain freshness: then
assuredly many a plastic artist will turn round as I have
done, and rather join you in working than carry on a
repulsive trade against conviction and feeling.”

/~ And on this followed the observation that it was

/ beautiful to observe how art and handicraft were always,

as it were, in equilibrium, and so closely connected and

always related to each other, that art cannot sink without
passing into praiseworthy handiwork, nor handiwork
elevate itself without becoming artistic.

These two persons adapted and accustomed themselves
to each other so completely, that they parted with regret
only when it was necessary to pursue their own several
important aims.

“But that it may not be thought,” said the master,
“that we shut ourselves out from nature, and propose to
deny her, we are developing fresh views. Across the sea
there, where certain humane theories are ever on the in-
crease, it is at length found necessary, on the abolition of
capital punishment, to build extensive castles, walled en-
closures, to protect the peaceful citizen against crime, and
to prevent crime from prevailing and doing its work with
impunity. There, my friend, in these melancholy precincts,
let us reserve a chapel for Alsculapius. There, isolated
as the punishment itself, our knowledge of such subjects
will be continually refreshed; for the dissection of them
does not injure our human feeling, nor does the sight of
them—as happened to you with that beautiful and
innocent arm—stay the knife in the hand whilst all eager-
ness for knowledge is extinguished in the feeling of
humanity.”

« This,” said Wilhelm, “was our last conversation. I

BE

 
Crap. III] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 305

saw the well-filled cases sail down the river, wishing
them a prosperous journey, and ourselves a happy meeting
at their unpacking.”

Our friend had ended this narrative as he had related
it, with spirit and enthusiasm, and particularly with a
certain vivacity of voice and speech that he had not been
prone to of late. But when at the end of his tale he
thought he noticed that Lenardo, preoccupied and absent,
did not seem to follow his remarks, while on the other
hand Friedrich had smiled, and sometimes almost shaken
his head, such scanty sympathy with a matter that
seemed to him so important so struck this sensitive
scrutiniser of gestures that he could not refrain from
taxing his friends with it.

Friedrich explained himself quite simply and straight-
. forwardly : he could allow that the scheme was praise-
worthy and good, but could by no means consider it so
important ; and least of all as practicable. This opinion
he tried to support with reasons of a sort that always
strike a person who is taken up with a subject, and counts,
perhaps more than one may think, on carrying it through,
as offensive ; consequently then our plastic anatomist, after
seeming to listen patiently for a time, answered with
vivacity :

“You have advantages, my good Friedrich, which no
one will deny—I least of any; but now you talk like
ordinary people in an ordinary way. In what is new
we see only the strangeness, but to discern at once in
the strangeness what is important, needs something more.
For you, everything must first come to pass in deed; it
must happen in order to be possible ; must come before the
eyes to be real : and then you let it pass like anything else.
What you bring forward I already hear beforehand as
repeated by the initiated and by laymen; by the former
from prejudice and indolence, by the latter from indiffer-
ence. A scheme like the above-mentioned can, perhaps,
only be carried out in a new world, where the mind must
gather courage to seek out new remedies for an inevitable
need, for of available ones there is a total absence. To that
end is invention awakened, to that end intrepidity and
steadfastness combine with necessity.

x X
306 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IH.

“ Every medical man, whether he goes to work with
medicines or with his hand, is nothing without the most
precise knowledge of the outward and the inner members
of man ; and it by no means suffices to have acquired a
transitory knowledge of this in schools, and to have got a
superficial idea of the shape, position and connexion of
the innumerable portions of his inscrutable organism.
Day by day, the physician who is in earnest ought to
practise himself in the repetition of this knowledge, of this
contemplation ; to seek all opportunities constantly to re-
new to his mind and eye the interdependence of this living
miracle. If he knew his own interest, he would, if he
lacked time for such labours, take an anatomist into his
pay, who under his instructions, quietly working for him
in the presence as it were of all the intricacies of the most
complicated life, would at once be able to answer the
most difficult questions.

“The more one gets to see this, the more vividly,
energetically and passionately will the study of dissec-
tion be pursued. But the means will diminish in just
the same proportion; the subjects, the bodies on which
such studies must be based, will fail, and become scarcer
and dearer, and there will ‘arise a veritable conflict
between living and dead.

“In the old world it is all routine, where they will
always want to treat the new after the old fashion, and
what is growing in a method that is rigid. This conflict
which I proclaim between the dead and living will be
for life and death; there will be panic, there will be in-
vestigation, making of laws and nothing effected. Fore-
sight and prohibition in such cases are of no avail—one
must begin from the beginning. And this it is that my
master and I in the new circumstances hope to achieve:
nothing new indeed, for there it is already : but what is
now art must become handicraft ; what happens in special
cases must become possible in general, and nothing can
be diffused abroad that is not recognised. Our doing and
achieving must be recognised as the only remedy in a
definite crisis which especially threatens large towns. I
will quote the words of my master, but pay attention!
He said one day in the greatest confidence:

 

:
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i
Cuar. I11.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 507

“<The newspaper-reader finds the article interesting
and almost amusing when he reads about  Resurrection-
men.”* At first they stole the bodies in profound secrecy ;
watchers were placed to provide against this: they came
in an armed band in order to gain possession of their prey
by force. And the worst will ensue from what is bad: I
dare not speak it aloud ; or I should be implicated, not, it is
true, as an accomplice, but still as one accidentally cog-
nizant in an investigation of the greatest danger, in which
in any case I must be punished for not having reported
the crime to the authorities as soon as I had discovered it.
1 confess to you, my friend, that murder has been commit-
ted in this town in order to supply the importunate highly-
paying anatomist with a subject. The soulless corpse
lay before us—I dare not depict the scene: he detected
the crime, but so did I: we looked at one another, and
both were silent; we looked straight before us, said
nothing, and went to work. And it is this, my friend,
that has confined me between wax and plaster; this it is
that assuredly will keep you, too, steadfast to the art that
sooner or later will be prized above all others.’ ”

Friedrich sprang up, clapped his hands, and would not
leave off shouting his applause, so that Wilhelm at last

“was angry in earnest.

“Bravo!” he cried; “now I recognise you again ; it is
the first time for a long while that you have spoken like
one who really has something at heart, the first time that
the flow of speech has again carried you away ; you have
shown yourself as one who is in a position to do something,
and to estimate it properly.”

Lenardo hereupon struck in, and adjusted this little
misunderstanding.completely.

«T seemed to be absent,” he said, * but only because I
was more than present ; that is to say, I was thinking of
the large museum of this sort that I had seen on my

* The name applied in England to the body-snatchers, who were
increasing in number to a horrible extent. In the year 1828 the
profit arising from the sale of bodies tempted a certain William Burke
in Edinburgh to the commission of several murders. Compare Goethe's
letter to Beuth of 4th February, 1832, which is printed in his works
under the title Plastische Anatomie.—D.

2
308 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

travels, and which interested me to such a degree that the
custodian, who, in order to get done according te custom,
began to offer his mechanically learnt jabber, very soon—
for he himself was the artificer—forgot his part, and
proved himself to be a highly-informed demonstrator.

«The extraordinary contrast, to see before one in the
height of summer, in cool rooms with sultry heat outside,
the same objects which one scarcely trusts oneself to
approach in the severest winter! Here everything con-
veniently served the craving for knowledge. With the
greatest composure, and in the fairest order, he showed me
the marvels of the human frame, and was glad to be able
to convince me that for the first commencement, and for
after assistance to memory, an institution of this sort was
fully sufficient ; while it remained free to everyone to have
recourse to nature during the middle period, and at con-
venient opportunities to educate himself in this or that
special department. He begged me to recommend him,
for he had made a similar collection for only one large
foreign museum, but the universities were thoroughly
opposed to the scheme, because the masters of the science
were able to educate proficients in dissection well enough,
but not teachers of the constructive method.

« After this I regarded this able man as the only one in
the world, and now we hear that there is another occupied
in the same way: who can tell whereabouts even a third
and a fourth may come to light? We wish on our part to
give an impulse to this subject. The recommendation
must come from without, and in our new relations this
useful enterprise must certainly be furthered.”
( 309 )

CHAPTER 1V.

THE next morning Friedrich came betimes into Wilhelm’s
room, with a pamphlet in his hand, and handing it to
him he said, “ Yesterday evening, what with all your
virtues—which you were circumstantial enough in re-
counting—I had no opportunity of speaking of myself
and my good qualities, of which I have good enough cause
to boast, and which stamp me as a worthy member of this
neat caravan. Look here at this book, and you will
recognise a masterpiece.”

Wilhelm ran over the sheets with hasty glances, and
saw written, in an agreeably legible though hurried style,
the yesterday’s narrative of his anatomical studies, almost
word for word as he had given it, so that he could not
conceal his astonishment.

“You know,” replied Friedrich, “the fundamental law
of our association: each must be perfect in some one
department or other, if he wish to claim membership.
Well, I cudgelled my brains as to how I could manage
this, and could not hit upon anything, though I knew
well enough that no one surpassed me in memory, nor
in a swift, easy and legible handwriting. You will
recollect these agreeable accomplishments from the days
of our theatrical career, when we shot away our powder
upon sparrows, without reflecting that a shot prudently
utilised would perhaps procure a hare for the kitchen.
- How often have I prompted without a book, how often
have I, after a few hours, written out my part from
memory! It was a matter of course to you at that time:
you thought it must needs be so: so did I, and it never
occurred to me how much it might avail me. - The Abhé
made the discovery first: he found that it brought grist to
310 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

his mill : he tried exercising me, and I was glad to do what
was so easy for me, and gave pleasure to an earnest man.

“And now I, when there is need, am a whole office in
myself; besides we thus carry with us a two-legged
calculating machine, and no prince, however numerous
his officials, is better provided than our superiors.”

A lively discussion about occupations of this sort led
their minds to other members of the society.

«Would you have thought,” said Freidrich, “that the
most useless creature in the world, as it seemed, my
Philina, would become the most useful member of the long
chain ? Give her a bit of cloth; set men, set women
before her : without taking a measurement, she cuts out
for the whole lot, and contrives to use up all the patches
and gores in such a way, that a great saving is the
result—and all without any paper-pattern. A happy
inspired glance informs her of everything; she looks at
the man, and cuts; he may go where he likes; she cuts
away, and makes him a coat that seems to be moulded
upon his body. Yet this would not be possible if she had
not got a sempstress to aid her, Montan’s Lydia, who has
at last become quiet, and remains quiet, but sews too
like no one else, stitch after stitch just like pearls, like
embroidery. That is what people may come to! In point
of fact a great deal that is useless hangs about us from
habit, liking, carelessness, or wilfulness—a bundled-up
cloak of rags. What Nature has intended us for, the best
of what she has stored within us, we consequently can
neither discover nor make use of.”

General reflexions on the advantages of the social club
which had so fortunately found itself assembled together,
gave an opening for the fairest expectations.

When Lenardo, presently, joined them, he was re-
quested by Wilhelm to speak of himself too: of the life
he had hitherto led, and kindly to give them information
on the way in which he had helped on himself and others.

“You no doubt remember, my good friend,” replied
Lenardo, “in what an extraordinarily excited condition you
found me at the first moment of our new acquaintanceship.
I was sunk, absorbed in the most wonderful desire, in an
irresistible longing : the question then could only be of the
Cmap. IV.) WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 311

- ensuing hour, of the deep suffering that was awaiting me,
which I showed myself so active in making keener. I
could not make known to you the earlier circumstances of
my youth, as I now must do in order to take you along the
way which has brought me hither.

« Amongst the earliest of my capacities which were
gradually developed by surrounding circumstances, a
certain impulse towards technical knowledge became pro-
minent, which was every day fed by the impatience that
one feels in the country, when in large buildings, but
particularly in small alterations, plans and whims, one
is obliged to forego ome sort of work for another, and
chooses rather to fall-to at once in a clumsy bungling
manner than be delayed for the sake of skilful work. By
good luck, there was roving up and down in our neigh-
bourhood a ¢jack-of-all-trades,” who, as he found that I
suited his purpose, preferred to help me rather than
any of the neighbours: he set me up a turning lathe,
which at every visit he managed to use more for his own
benefit than for my instruction. In the same way, too, I
procured carpenter’s tools, and my liking for such things
was increased and enlivened by the conviction, at that
time loudly expressed, that no one should venture out into
life unless, in case of need, he was qualified to earn his
living by a trade. My zeal was approved of by my
instructors in accordance with their own principles. I
can scarcely recollect that I ever played, for all my leisure
hours were employed in doing or making something. Yes,
I may boast that even when still a boy I advanced a
clever smith, through my representations, to be lock-
maker, file-cutter, and watchmaker.

«To accomplish all this, tools, indeed, must first be
procured, and we suffered to no small degree from the
disease of those practitioners who transpose the means to
the end, and rather spend time in preparations and plans
than apply themselves right seriously to carrying them
out. Where, however, we showed ourselves practically
industrious was in forwarding the laying-out of parks,
with which no landowner could now dispense. Numer-
.ous summer-houses of moss and bark, rustic bridges and
benches, testified to the activity with which we inde-
3512 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

fatigably occupied ourselves in exemplifying a primitive
architecture in all its rudeness, in the midst of the
civilised world.

“This impulse led me, with increasing years, to take
more serious interest in all that is so useful, and in its
present condition so indispensable to the world, and
gave a peculiar interest to my tour of several years’
length.

“But since man is commonly wont to wander on along
the road which has brought him so far, I was less favour-
ably disposed towards machinery than to direct hand-
work, in which we practise strength and feeling in
combination ; on this account I was glad to confine myself
especially to those narrow circles in which, according to
circumstances, this or that work had its natural sphere.
A condition of this sort gives to every association a special
individuality, and to every family, or to a small com-
munity consisting of several families, the most definite
character: one lives in the purest feeling of a living
whole.

« At the same time I had accustomed myself to note
down everything, to set it forth in figures, and thus, not
without a view to future use, to employ my time profitably
and pleasantly.

«This natural taste, this talent, improved by cultiva-
tion, I used to the best advantage in the important task
which the society had imposed upon me—of investigating
the condition of the mountain-people, and enlisting in our
ranks such as were available and adapted for travel.
Would you like to employ this beautiful evening, in
which manifold matters of business press upon me, in the
perusal of a part of my diary? I will not affirm that
it is exactly agreeable reading; to me it has always
seemed amusing, and to a certain degree instructive.
Still, we always reflect ourselves in everything that we
produce.” ©
{ 363)

CHAPTER V.
LENARDO’S DIARY,

¢ Monday, 15th September.

“LATE at night, after a difficult ascent halfway up the

“mountain, I had lighted upon a decent inn, and at day-
break was awakened, to my great annoyance, from a
refreshing sleep by a ceaseless tinkling and ringing of
bells. A long train of packhorses passed by, before I had
been able to dress and to hurry on in front of them. I now
found, too, as I followed my path, how disagreeable and
annoying such society is—the monotonous ringing deafens
one’s ears. The packs, which extend on both sides far
beyond the beasts (on this occasion they were carrying
big bales of cotton), are pretty sure to graze the rocks on
one side; and if the beast, to prevent this, draws off to-
wards the other side, the load hangs over the precipice,
and awakens anxiety and giddiness in the spectator, whilst
—which is worst of all—he isin either case hindered from
slipping past them, and going on in advance.

“At last I got alongside of them, upon an unoccupied
rock, where St. Christopher, who had stoutly carried my
luggage so far, greeted a man who was standing quietly
and seemed to be passing the procession in review as it
filed by. He was in reality their conductor; not only
did a considerable number of the beasts of burden belong
to him (he had hired the others with their drivers), but
he was also the owner of a smaller proportion of the
goods. For the most part, however, his business consisted
in faithfully superintending for larger merchants the
transport of theirs. In conversation I found out from
him, that this was cotton that came from Macedonia and
314 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

‘Cyprus by way of Trieste, and was brought from the
mountain-foot to these heights upon mules and pack-
horses, and even farther to the other side of the mountain,
where spinners and weavers innumerable throughout the
vales and ravines were busy with the preliminaries of an
extensive traffic with foreign countries in goods that
were in request. The bales, for the sake of convenience
of carriage, were some of one and a half, and some of
three hundredweight, which latter made a full load for a
beast. The man praised the quality of the cotton that
came by this route, and compared it with that from the
Bast and West Indies, particularly with that from
Cayenne, as being the best known : he seemed very well
informed in his business; and as it was not altogether
strange to myself also, it gave us an agreeable and profit-
able subject of conversation. In the meantime the whole
procession had gone on in front of us, and I looked with
nothing but repugnance at the endless train of these
laden creatures, on the rocky path that twined snakelike
up the heights, behind whom we should have to creep on,
and be baked between rocks under the advancing sun.
Whilst I was grumbling about this to my porter, there
came up with us a thick-set lively man, who appeared to
be carrying on a tolerably large frame a proportionately
easy burden. A greeting passed, and it very soon ap-
peared from the lusty shaking of hands that St. Christopher
and this new-comer were well acquainted : whereupon I
speedily learnt about him what follows.

«“ For the more remote tracts of the mountain-range,
where it would be too far for every single workman to go
to market, there is a sort of subordinate merchant or
collector, who is called a yarn-man. He trudges, in fact,
through all the valleys and nooks, visits house after
house, takes cotton for the spinners in small quantities,
takes in exchange or buys spun yarn, of whatever quality
it may be, and hands it over with a certain profit in the
lump to the manufacturers settled in the lower district.

“ As the inconvenience of creeping along behind the
mules was again mentioned, the man at once invited me
to descend with him a side-valley that branched just at
this spot from the principal valley so as to draw off the

3

 
Crap. V.] LENARDO’S DIARY. 315

waters into another district. The decision was soon made,
and when with some effort we had surmounted a somewhat
steep mountain-ridge we saw before us the declivities on
the other side, at first sicht a most uninviting view. The
rock was of a different sort, and assumed a slaty form ;
no vegetation enlivened the crag and boulders, and an
abrupt descent seemed to be threatened: springs gushed
from several points at once, and we passed a small tarn
surrounded by rugged rocks. At last there appeared singly,
and afterwards more closely together, pine trees, larches
and birches; then, in between them, scattered rustic
habitations, but certainly of the meanest sort, every one
put together by the inmates themselves, with crossed
balks of timber, with the great black slabs on the roof
weighted with stones to prevent the wind carrying them
away. In spite of this melancholy exterior aspect, the
narrow space inside was still not uncomfortable; warm
and dry and neatly kept, it suited well with the cheerful
appearance of the inmates with whom one at once felt
oneself at home in country fashion.

“The messenger was not unexpected ; they had even been
looking for him out of the little window, for it was his
custom to come, if possible, on the same day of the week.
He made his bargain for the yarn, and distributed fresh
wool; then we quickly descended to where, a little way off,
several more horses were standing near each other. We
were no sooner seen than the inhabitants ran together to
greet us. Children joined the throng, and were highly
delighted with a sponge-cake or seed-biscuit. The pleasure
everywhere was great, and was increased when it appeared
that St. Christopher had a supply of these, and thus at
once had the pleasure of earning the gratitude of all the
children ; all the more pleasant to him because, like his
comrade, he knew very well how to get on with the little
folk.

« The elders, on the other hand, were ready with all sorts
of questions: everyone wanted to know something about
the war, which happily was being waged at a considerable
distance, and even if nearer would hardly have been dan-
gerous for such districts. However, they rejoiced at the
peace, although they were concerned about another danger
316 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL 4.

that threatened, for it was not to be denied that machinery
was continually on the increase in the country, and was
little by little threatening the working hands with in-

activity; still various grounds for consolation and hope |
suggested themselves.

“Qur friend’s advice, in the meantime, was asked on
many ordinary matters; nay, he must needs prove him-
self not only a family friend, but also a family doctor: |
magic-drops, salts, and ointments were things that he
always carried with him.

« Entering the various houses, I found an opportunity of
indulging my old hobby, and informing myself about the
spinners’ art. I paid attention to the children, who
busied themselves carefully and diligently in pulling
the wool-flocks asunder, and taking out the seeds, the
chips of the shells of the pods and other impurities;
this they call picking it. I asked whether that was the
task of the children only, but learnt that in the winter
evenings it was also done by the men and youths.

« Buxom spinsters then, as was but proper, attracted my
attention. The preparing is done in this wise: the picked
or cleansed cotton is equally distributed on the cards, which
in Germany are called krimpel, and carded, so that the
dust is got rid of, and the fibres of the cotton take one
direction ; then it is taken off, twisted into skeins, and so
prepared for spinning on the wheel.

«I was then shown the difference between left-spun and
right-spun yarn: the former is generally finer, which is
effected ‘by the thread which turns the spindle being
confined round about the ring, as is shown in the accom-
panying drawing (which, like the rest, we have unfor-
tunately not been able to give).

«The spinner sits facing the wheel, not too high. Several
of them kept it steady with their feet one upon the
other; others only with the right, putting the left be-
hind. With the right hand she turns the wheel, and
stretches out as far and as high as she can reach, whereby
beautiful movements come into play, and a slim figure, by
graceful turns of the body and the rounded fulness of the
arms, shows itself to very great advantage: the position,
especially in the last species of spinning, gives a very

 
Crap. V.] LENARDO’S DIARY. 317

picturesque contrast, so that our finest ladies would have
no need to fear a loss of real attractiveness and grace,
if they would for once take to the spinning-wheel instead
of the guitar.

« Amidst such surroundings new and peculiar sensations
forced themselves upon me: the whirring wheels have a
certain eloquence; the girls sing psalms, and also, though
less often, other songs; siskins and goldfinches, suspended
in cages, twitter amidst it all, and it would not be easy
to find a picture of more active life than in a room where
several spinners are at work. :

«To the above described ¢wheel-yarn,” however, the
* paper-yarn’ is to be preferred. For this the best cotton,
which has longer fibres than the rest, is used. When it
has been picked clean, it is taken, instead of being carded,
to combs, which consist of simple rows of long steel
needles, and is combed. Then the longer and finer part
of it is abstracted in the shape of bands (the technical word
is a ‘cutting’) with a blunt knife, mixed up together,
and done up in a paper cornet, which is then fastened to
the distaff. From such a cornet it is spun with the
spindle by hand; on which account it is called ‘spinning
from the paper, and the resulting yarn is called ‘ paper-

arn.’

“This occupation, which is only pursued by quiet thought-
ful people, gives the spinner a gentler aspect than that at
the wheel. If the latter shows off a tall slim figure to the
greatest advantage, a quiet gentle form is very much
favoured by the latter. Of such diverse characters, occu-
“pied in divers tasks, I saw more than one in a room, and
at last I could not rightly tell whether I must give my
attention to the work or to the workers.

« But, at all events, I could not deny that the ladies of
the mountain, excited by the unusual guests, showed them-
selves in a kindly and agreeable light. They were espe-
cially pleased that I made such particular inquiries about
everything, noted what they told me, made drawings of
their implements and simple mechanism, and hastily
sketched their pretty limbs with gracefulness, as ought
to be seen here annexed. Moreover, when evening came

on, the finished work was displayed, the full spindles
318 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boox III

were laid aside in the little boxes made for the purpose,
and the whole day’s work was carefully taken away. By I.
this time we had got better acquainted, yet the work {
sped on its course: they busied themselves now with the
reel, and already much more freely exhibited, some the
machine, some the method of manipulating, whilst I care-
fully wrote it down.

“The reel has a wheel and ratchet, so that by every tnrn
a spring is worked, which runs down as often as a
hundred revolutions have been made by the reel. The
tale of 1000 revolutions is called a ‘schneller,’* according
to the weight of which the varying fineness of the yarn
is estimated.

« Of right-spun yarn there are twenty-five to thirty to the
pound ; if left-spun, sixty to eighty, perhaps even ninety.
The revolution of the reel comes to about seven quarter-
ells, or something more, and the slender industrious spinner
declared that she spun four and even five schnellers, which
would be 5000 revolutions, and therefore 8000 to 9000 ells
of yarn every day at the wheel ; she offered to make a bet
about it if we would stay one day longer.

“The quiet and modest paper-spinner, however, could

‘not let the matter rest here, and assured us that she spun
120 schnellers from the pound in a proportionate time.
For paper-spinning is slower than spinning at the wheel,
and at the same time is better paid; perhaps double
the amount is spun with the wheel. She had just com-
pleted the full number of revolutions at the reel, and
showed me how the end of the thread is twisted round a
couple of times and knotted. She took the schnueller off,
turned it round, so that it was wrapped within itself,
drew one end of it through the other, and could thus
display with innocent complacency the task of the prac-
tised spinner concluded.

“ As there was now nothing further to be noted here, the
mother stood up and said that, as the young gentleman
wanted to see everything, she would now show him the
dry-weaving. She explained to me, with the same good-
nature, as she set herself down at the loom, how they only
practised this sort, because in point of fact it was only

* This term corresponds to the English skein.

 
Crap. V.] LENARDO’S DIARY. 319

good for coarse cottons, in which the weft was inserted
dry, and was not woven very close: she then showed me
dry goods of the kind; these are always smooth, without
stripes or squares or any other rich pattern, and only from
five to five and a half quarter-ells in breadth.

“The moon was shining in the heavens, and our yarn-
man insisted on a further pilgrimage, since he must keep
to his day and hour, and arrive punctually at every place.
The paths were good and distinct, especially with such a
nocturnal torch as this. We, on our side, cheered the part-
ing with silk ribands and neckerchiefs, of which sort of
articles St. Christopher carried with him a considerable
package. The gift was handed to the mother, that she
might distribute it amongst her family.

“Tuesday, 16th, early morning.

« Our walk through a splendidly clear night was full of
beauty and enjoyment. We reached a somewhat large
assemblage of chalets, which might perhaps have been
called a village; at some distance from it, upon an open
hill, stood a chapel, and the outlook began already to be
more habitable and civilised. We passed by enclosures
which gave indications not, it is true, of gardens, but still
of scanty and carefully protected meadow growth.

«We had reached a place where, in addition to spinning,
weaving was more seriously pursued. Our journey of
yesterday, prolonged into the night, had exhausted our
robust and youthful powers: the yarn-man climbed up
into the hayloft, and I was on the point of following him,
when St. Christopher commended his frame to me, and
went up to the door. I understood his kindly intention,
and let him have his way.

«The first thing, however, next morning, the family
assembled together, and the children were strictly for-
bidden to go out of doors, since a terrible bear or some
other monster must be haunting the neighbourhood, for
all through the night there had been such a growling and
grumbling from the chapel, that rocks and houses over
here might well have been shaken, and they advised us to
be well on our guard in our further travels to-day. We
320 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor III

tried to reassure the good people as much as possible,
which, however, in this solitary waste seemed difficult
to do.

“The yarn-man now declared that he would finish his
business as quickly as possible, and then come and fetch
us away; for we should have to-day a long and diffi-
cult road before us, as we should not only continue to
clamber down the valley, but would have a troublesome
climb across a spur of the mountain that barred our
way. I therefore determined to employ the time as well
as possible, and get myself introduced by our good enter-
tainers of yesterday into the preliminaries of weaving.

“ They were both elderly people, who had yet been
blessed in their latter days with two or three children;
one very soon became aware, in their surroundings, con-
duct, and speech, of religious feeling and superstitious
ideas. I came just at the beginning of such a piece of
work, the transition from spinning to weaving, and as I
found no occasion for further discursiveness, I had the
process, as it was just then in operation, dictated forthwith
into my note-book.

«The first task, of sizing the yarn, had been done yester-
day. It is boiled in a thin solution of size, consisting of
starch and a little carpenter’s glue, whereby the thread
acquires more toughness. The skeins of yarn were dry
by early morning, and they made ready to spool ’—that
is to say, to wind the yarn with the wheel upon reed-
bobbins. The old grandfather, sitting at the stove, per-
formed this easy task; a grandchild stood by him, and
seemed eager to turn the bobbin-wheel himself. In the
meanwhile the father stuck the spools for the warp upon
a frame divided by cross staves, so that they moved freely
about strong wires standing vertically, and let the thread
run off. They are arranged in the proper order with
coarser and finer yarn, as the pattern, or rather the stripes
in the web require. An appliance—the *brittli,” shaped
almost like a sistrum,* has holes on both sides, through
which the threads are drawn; this is held in the right
hand of the warper ; with the left he grasps the threadsall

* An antique metallic shuttle, the outline of which is somewhat like
an ordinary hand-mirror.— Eb.

 
Cuar. V.] LENARDO’S DIARY. 321

together, and lays them, walking backwards and forwards,
upon the warping-frame. From the top to the bottom,
and from the bottom to the top, is called a course, and so
many courses are made according to the thickness and
breadth of the cloth. The length amounts to either sixty-
four or thirty-two ells. At the beginning of each course
one or two threads are always laid above, with the fingers
of the left hand, and the same number below ; and this is
called the lease. Then the crossed threads are laid over
the two nails that are put on the top of the warp-frame.
This is done so that the weaver can receive the threads in
properly even order. As soon as the warp is ready, the
leases are tied below, and thereby every course is kept
separate, so that there can be no confusion. Then, on
the last course, marks are made with dissolved verdigris,
so that the weaver may get the proper measure again;
finally, it is taken off, and the whole rolled up in the form
of a large coil, which is called the warp.

“ Wednesday, 17th.

«We had set out early before daybreak, and had enjoyed
the glorious light of a belated moon. The dawning day,
the rising sun, allowed us to see a better populated and
cultivated country. While higher up, when crossing
streams, we had met with stepping-stones or sometimes a
narrow plank, provided only on one side with a rail, here
were already stone bridges thrown across the ever widen-
ing waters: the attractive would little by little ally itself
with the savage, and an enjoyable impression was ex-
perienced by all the travellers.

« Hither over the mountain from another river-region
came trudging a tall black-haired man, who cried when
still at a distance, as one who has good eyes and a powerful
voice, ‘God greet you, gossip yarn-man!’ .

“The latter allowed him to get nearer, then he too
exclaimed with astonishment, ‘God bless me, gossip
loom-fitter! * where in the world do you come from?
What an unexpected meeting!’

* @eschirrfasser— Geschirr is what is called the ‘mounting’ of a
loom, comprising chiefly the ¢heddles’ which raise and depress the
alternate yarns——ED.

xX
 

822 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

“ The other answered, as he came up, ‘ For the last two
months I have been tramping about the mountain mending
their gear for all good folk, and setting their benches to
rights so that they can work away again untroubled for
a long time.’

“ Thereupon the yarn-man, turning to me, said, ‘ As you,
young gentleman, show so much pleasure and liking for
the craft, and interest yourself in it so anxiously, this
man comes at the very time, whilst I have been silently
wishing for your sake that he were here during the last few
days: he would have explained everything better for you
than the girls, with all their good-will : he is master of his
trade, and all that belongs to spinning, weaving and the
like; he understands perfectly how to contrive, apply,
preserve and repair, as need demands and anybody may
just happen to want.’

«1 addressed myself to him, and found him a very
sensible man, in a certain sense educated, and perfectly at
home in his business; whilst I repeated him something
of what I had learnt in these few days, and asked him to
clear up some doubts. I also told him what I had seen of
the first processes of weaving yesterday.

“He joyously exclaimed in reply, ¢ That is a good wish
indeed ! then 1 have come just in the nick of time to give
such a worthy kind gentleman the needful information
about the most ancient and glorious art that, in point of
fact, distinguishes the man from the brute. We have
this very day arrived amongst worthy and clever people,
and call me no loom-fitter if you don’t presently under-
stand the craft as well as I do myself.

«J returned him friendly thanks, the conversation was
continued on all sorts of topics, and after a short halt and
breakfast, we reached a group of houses which, whilst
certainly somewhat irregular, were at all events better
built. He showed us up to the best of them; and the
yarn-man, as we arranged, went in first with me and St.
Christopher. Then, after the first greetings and some
joking, the loom-fitter followed, and it was astonishing
what a joyful surprise his entrance created in the family
Father, mother, daughters and children gathered round
him: the shuttle stopped in the hand of a finely grown
Crap. V.] LENARDO’S DIARY. 323

girl sitting at the loom, as it was on the point of travel
ling through the warp: at the same moment she stayed
the treadle, stood up, and presently came, with slow
embarrassment, to give him her hand.

“ Both of them, the yarn-man as well as the loom-fitter,
soon put themselves, with jokes and tales, on the old footing
due to family friends; and after spending some time in
refreshing themselves, the excellent fellow turned to me
and said, ¢ We must not neglect you, dear sir, amidst these
rejoicings at meeting again; we could go on gossiping
with one another for days: you must be off to-morrow.
Let the gentleman see the mystery of our craft: sizing
and warping he knows; we must show him the rest. The
young ladies there will help, I dare say. At this stool, I
see, you are winding on.’

“This was the work of the younger one, to whom
we turned. The elder sat down again at her loom, and,
with a quiet amiable demeanour, pursued her lively
task.

“J now carefully watched the winding on. For this
purpose the courses of the work are allowed to .run in
their order through a big comb, of just the same breadth
as the yarn-beam on which the winding is to be done.
This is provided with a groove in which lies a thin round
rod, which is inserted through the end of the warp and
made tight in the groove. A little boy or girl sits under
the loom and holds the string of the warp tight, whilst the
weaver turns the yarn-beam round powerfully with a
lever, at the same time taking care that everything is lying
in proper order. When it is all wound on, one round and
two flat rods (Schiene) are pushed through the ¢ lease’ so as
to hold it; and now the drawing begins.

«Of the old web there is still about a quarter of an
ell left on the second yarn-beam, and from this the
threads run for a length of about three quarter-ells
through the reed in the batten as well as though the leaves
of the heddles. On to these the weaver now carefully twists
the threads of the new warp, one on to another, and when
he has done the whole of what is twisted on is drawn
through in one, so that the new threads reach to the still
empty front yarn-beam : the broken threads are knotted

x2
324 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL]

together, the weft is wound upon small reels so that they
fit into the little shuttle, and the last preparation for the
weaving, namely, the dressing, is made.

« Throughout the length of the loom the warp is damped
through and through with a size made of glove leather,
by aid of a brush dipped into it; then the before-men-
tioned rods which hold the leases are drawn back, all
the threads are laid most exactly in order, and it is all
fanned with a goosewing fastened to a stick until it is dry;
and now the weaving can begin, to go on until it is again
necessary to dress.

“ The dressing and fanning are commonly left to young
people who are familiarised with the weaving trade; but
in the leisure of the winter evenings a brother, or a lover,
performs this office for the comely weaver, or at the
least they prepare the little reels of weft-yarn.

« Fine muslins are woven wet, that is to say, the thread
of the weft-yarn is dipped in size, wound whilst still
damp upon the little reels, and worked forthwith, by which
means the web can be more evenly worked and looks
cleaner.

¢ Thursday, 18th.

“In general I found something busy, indescribably
animated, homely and peaceful in the whole condition of
a weaving-room like this: several looms were in activity ;
spinning and spooling wheels were going; and at the
stove sat the old people, with friends and neighbours who
had looked in, engaged in confidential talk. Between
whiles singing would perhaps be heard, generally Am-
brosius Lobwasser’s psalms in four parts; more seldom
ordinary songs; then perhaps there breaks out a merry
peal of laughter from the girls, when cousin Jacob has
made a witty remark.

“A really smart and at the same time diligent weaver,
if she has help, can, at most, in the course of a week finish
a piece of not too fine muslin, thirty-two ells in length;
but this is very unusual, and in some working households
this is commonly the work of a fortnight.

“ The beauty of the web depends upon the even action
of the heddles, on the even motion of the batten, and also

 
Crap. V.] LENARDO’S DIARY. 325

upon whether the weft is wet or dry. A perfectly equal
and at the same time strong tension also contributes, to
secure which the weaver of fine cotton cloths hangs a
heavy stone on the pin of the front beam. If the web
during the work is strongly strained (the technical word
is ddmmen) it is perceptibly lengthened—in thirty-two
ells by three-quarters of an ell, and in sixty-four by about
one and a half. This overplus belongs to the weaver; she
is paid extra for it, or keeps it for neckerchiefs, aprons, &e.

«On the brightest, tenderest of moonlit nights, such
as prevail only in the high mountain regions, sat the
family with their guest, at the house door, in the most
animated talk, Lenardo deep in thought. Amidst all
the life and employment, and so much thought devoted
to manufacturing processes, his friend Wilhelm’s letter
written to reassure him again came to his recollection.
The words that he had read so often, the lines he had
several times conned, again presented themselves to his
inner sense. And as a favourite tune suddenly becomes,
before we are aware of it, gently present to our deeper
sense of hearing, so did that tender missive repeat itself
in the quiet and self-absorbed soul.

« ¢ A domestic condition grounded in piety, inspired and
maintained by industry and order, not too narrow, not
too wide, but in the happiest proportion to her capacities
and powers. Around her is busy a circle of hand-
workers, in the purest, most primitive sense; here reign
limitation, and far-reaching effect, caution and modera-
tion, innocence and activity.

“ But on this occasion reminiscence was more exacting
than soothing. ¢And yet, said he to himself, ‘this
general laconic description accords completely with the
circumstances that surround me here. Is there not here
peace, piety, and unintermittent activity ? It is only the
far-reaching effect that fails to seem equally obvious to me.
May it be that the good creature animates a like circle,
but a wider and a better one. May she find herself as
happily situate as these—perhaps still more happily—
and look round about her with more joy and freedom.’

* See above, p. 225.
326 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

« But now, aroused by a lively and increasing flow of
talk on the part of the others, and paying more heed to
what was passing, an idea which he had been cherishing
all this time became perfectly vivid to him. ‘Might not
this selfsame man, this man who deals with tools and
apparatus in so masterly a manner, be able to make the
most useful of members for our society?” He pondered
on this and everything—how the advantages of this expert
workman had already powerfully struck him. He there-
fore turned the conversation in that direction; and as if
in jest, it is true, but for that reason all the more uncon-
strainedly, he made the proposal whether he would not
join an association of some importance, and make a trial of
emigrating over the sea.

«The other excused himself, declaring, with equal good-
humour, that he was getting on very well here, and ex-
pected to do better too; that he was born in this part of
the country, accustomed to it, known far and wide and
received with confidence everywhere. In general there
would be found no liking for emigration in these valleys;
they had no want to trouble them, and a mountain
country has a firm hold on its people.

« ¢« For that reason,’ said the yarn-man, ‘I am surprised
to hear it said that Frau Susanna is going to marry the
manager, sell her property, and go with a fair sum of
money over the sea.’

«On inquiry, our friend found that this was a young
widow who was in easy circumstances and carried on a
lucrative trade in the products of the mountain-side; of
which the travelling tourist could satisfy himself the
first thing on the morrow, for they would come across her
in good time on the road they were following.

«<I have already heard her mentioned in various
ways, replied Lenardo, ‘as exercising activity and bene-
volence in this valley, and have been intending to inquire
about her.’

«“<But let us retire to rest, said the yarn-man, ‘so
as to avail ourselves of the approaching day, which
promises to be a merry one, betimes.” ”

Here the manuscript ended, and when Wilhelm asked

 
Cuar. V.] LENARDO’S DIARY. 327

for the continuation, he was told that it was not at
present in the friends’ hands. It had been sent, they
said, to Makaria, who by aid of wit and good-will was to
smooth over certain difficulties which were referred to
in it and solve various unpropitious complications. Our
friend had to make the best of this interruption, and
make up his mind to be satisfied with a social evening
spent in lively conversation.
328 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL i.

CHAPTER VIL

WHEN evening came, and the friends were sitting in an
arbour from which there was a wide prospect all round,
there appeared on the threshold a notable figure, whom
our friend recognised at once as the barber of the morning
before.

To a deep and silent obeisance on the man’s part,
Lenardo replied, “You come, as ever, very opportunely,
and you will not delay to gratify us with your gift.

“1 may perhaps tell you,” he went on, turning to
Wilhelm, “something about the association of which I
may boast myself to be the Bond.* No one enters our
circle but he who has given evidence of certain talents
which would contribute to the profit or pleasure of every
society. This man is a thorough surgeon, who, in pre-
carious cases, in which decision and physical strength are
requisite, is ready to assist his master cleverly. To what
he achieves as a beard-artist you can yourself bear witness
in his favour; on this account he is equally necessary
and welcome to us. But as this occupation commonly
brings with it a great and often burdensome loguacity,
he has, for the sake of his own culture, let himself be
placed under a condition: as indeed every one who
wishes to live amongst us must restrain himself on one
particular side, though greater freedom is accorded to
him on another. This man accordingly has renounced
the use of speech in so far as anything commonplace or
casual is expressed by it; but from this another kind of
speaking-talent has developed itself in him, which pro-
"duces its effect designedly, cleverly, and pleasantly :
namely, the gift of narration.

« His life is rich in strange experiences, which at one

* See above, p. 289.
Cuar. VL] THE NEW MELUSINA. 329

time he used to splinter up by chattering in undue season,
but which now, constrained by silence, he repeats and
arranges in the quiet of his mind. With this, too, is
associated the power of imagination adding life and move-
ment to the occurrence. He knows how to tell real legends
and legendary histories with peculiar art and address,
by the help of which he often delights us at suitable
times when his tongue is loosened by me. This then I
do at the present moment; and, at the same time, give
him credit for having, during the considerable time that I
have known him, not once repeated himself. I hope now
that, for love and honour of our dear guest, he will
specially distinguish himself on this occasion too.”

A merry look, full of intelligence, overspread Red-
cloak’s face, and without delay he began to speak as
follows.

Tae NEw MELUSINA*¥

Gentlemen: As I am aware that you do not par-
ticularly care for preliminary speeches and introductions,
1 will assure you without more ado that this time I hope
to acquit myself exceedingly well. Without doubt many
true stories have already gone forth from me to the high
satisfaction of all ; but to-day, I dare maintain, that I have
one to tell which far surpasses all that have gone before,
and which, though it happened to me several years ago,
still disquiets me whenever I recollect it, nay, even still
makes me hope for an explanation in the end. You
would have difficulty in finding the like of it.

First I must confess that I have not always ordered
my plan of life so as to be quite sure of the time that was
shortly coming on, even of the next day. In my youth 1
was not a good manager, and often found myself in
divers perplexities. Once I undertook a journey which
should have brought me in a good profit; but I cut my
cloth a little too big, and after beginning it with extra-

* This is the story which Goethe really related to the Brions on the
occasion of his first visit to Sesenheim. See ¢ Autobiography,’ vol. i.
p- 386 (translation) —ED.
330 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL

post, and then proceeding for a time by diligence, I at
last found myself obliged to face the end of it on foot.

As a lively young fellow, I had always made a practice
of looking about for the landlady, or even for the cook,
as soon as I entered an inn, and, by expending a little
flattery on them, my reckoning was generally diminished.

One evening, as I was entering the post-house of a
small town, and was just going to set to work in this
customary manner, a handsome two-seated carriage, with
four horses, rattled up to the door close behind me. I
turned round and saw a young lady all alone, without
maid and without attendants. I at once hastened to
open the door for her, and inquire whether I could do
anything for her. As she got out a beautiful figure
became evident, and her amiable face, when one looked
at it more nearly, was adorned with a slight trace of
sadness. I asked once more whether I could serve her
in any way.

“ Oh, yes,” she said, “if you will carefully lift out
the little box that lies on the seat, and carry it up for
me; but I beg you earnestly to carry it quite steadily,
and not to swing or shake it in the least!”

I took up the box carefully, whilst she shut the
carriage-door. We went up the stairs together, and she
told the servants that she would stay here for the night.

We were now alone in the room. She bade me set the
box upon the table that stood by the wall, and on
noticing from some of her movements that she wished to
be alone, I took my leave, and respectfully but warmly
kissed her hand.

« Order supper for both of us,” she then said; and it
may be imagined with what satisfaction I fulfilled this
commission, whilst, in self-conceit, I scarcely threw a
side-glance at the hostess and servants. I awaited with
impatience the moment which was at last to take me
again to her. It was served up, and we sat down op-
posite one another. For the first time for a long while
I refreshed myself with a good meal, and at the same
time with a sight so enviable; nay, it seemed to me as if
she became more beautiful every minute.

Her conversation was agreeable, yet she made a point

 

 
Crap. VI.] THE NEW MELUSINA. 331

of repudiating everything that related to regard or af-
fection. The table was cleared. I lingered; I tried all
sorts of artifices to get near her, but in vain; she kept
me back with a certain dignity that I could not withstand.
Nay, I was obliged, against my will, to leave her in rather
good time.

After a night for the best part of which I lay awake
or dreamed restlessly, I got up early. 1 inquired whether
she had ordered horses ; I was told * No,” and walked into
the garden. I saw her standing at the window dressed,
and ran up to her. As she stepped towards me, as
beautiful as, nay, more beautiful than yesterday, love,
impudence and audacity were all at once set astir within
me: I rushed towards her and clasped her in my arms.
“ Angelic, irresistible being,” I exclaimed, ‘forgive me,
but it is impossible——"

With incredible address she freed herself from my
arms, and I was not able to imprint a single kiss upon
her cheeks. Se

«Keep back such outbreaks of sudden, passionate
affection, if you do not wish to forfeit a piece of good
fortune that lies close to you, but which can only be
grasped after certain trials.”

« Demand what thou wilt, angelic spirit,” I exclaimed,
“but do not drive me to despair!”

She answered with a smile, “If you are willing to
devote yourself to my service, hear the conditions. I have
come to this place to visit a female friend, with whom I
expect to pass a few days : meanwhile I wish my carriage
and this case to be taken further on. Are you willing to
take charge of it? You will have nothing to do but to lift
the box carefully into and out of the carriage, to sit down
by it, and to take every care of it. When you come to an
inn it is placed on a table in a room by itself, in which
you must neither sit nor sleep. You always lock the door
with this key, which opens and closes any lock, and gives
the lock the special property that no one is able to open
it otherwise.”

I looked at her, and a strange feeling came over me. I
promised to do everything, if I might hope to see her soon
again, and if she would seal this hope to me with a kiss.
332 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

This she did, and from that moment I had become com-

pletely her body-slave. I was now, she said, to order the |

horses. We settled the road that I was to take, the places
where I should stop and should wait for her. Lastly she

pressed a purse of gold into my hand, and I my lips to her
Lands. She seemed moved at parting, and already I knew

not what I did or was about to do.

When I came back after giving my orders I found the |
room-door locked ; I immediately tried my master-key, §
and it stood its test perfectly. The door sprang open: I *
found the room empty : there was only the box standing

upon the table where IT had set it down.

The carriage had driven up. I took the box carefully

down and set it beside me.

The hostess asked, « Where is the lady, then?”

A child answered, « She is gone into the town.”

I nodded to the people and drove away in triumph
from the door, at which yesterday evening I had arrived
with dusty spatterdashes. That I now, at complete leisure,
turned this occurrence over and over in my mind, that I

 

counted the gold, made all sorts of schemes, and continued i

to look occasionally at the box, you can easily imagine. I
drove straight forward, did not alight for several stations,
and did not rest until I arrived at a considerable town
where she had appointed to meet me. Her commands

were carefully obeyed, the box was placed in a room by
itself, and a few wax candles were lighted near it, as she
had also ordered. Ilocked up the room, settled myself in

mine, and made myself comfortable.

For awhile I was able to occupy myself with thinking
of her: but soon the time began to seem long. I was not
accustomed to be without company ; this I soon found at
the inn-tables and in public places in accordance with my
taste. In this way my money began to melt away, and one
evening, when I imprudently abandoned myself to a pas-
sionate fit of gaming, it vanished absolutely from my purse.
When I reached my room I was beside myself. Bereft of
money, with the appearance of a wealthy man, expecting
a heavy reckoning, uncertain whether and when my fair
one would again make her appearance, I was in the great-
est embarrassment. Doubly did I long for her, and was
Cuar. VL] THE NEW MELUSINA. 333

certain that without her and her money I was now quite
unable to live.

After supper, for which I had had no sort of relish,
since this time I had been obliged to eat it alone, I
walked rapidly up and down the room, talked aloud to
myself, cursed myself, threw myself on the floor, tore my
hair, and behaved like an utter madman. Suddenly
in the locked-up room adjoining, I hear a gentle move-
ment, and shortly afterwards a knocking at the well-
secured door. I collect myself, and seize hold of the
- master-key ; but the folding-doors fly open of themselves,
and in the glow of the lighted wax-candles my fair one
comes towards me. I throw myself at her feet, kiss her
skirt, her hands: she raises me, I do not venture to
embrace her, scarcely to look at her; yet frankly and
penitently I confess to her my fault.

“1t may be pardoned,” said she; “only unfortunately
you delay your good fortune and mine. You must now
once more make an expedition into the world before we
meet again. Here is more gold,” said she, “and quite
enough if you are willing to be at all careful; but if
wine and play have got you into trouble this time, be on
your guard now against wine and women, and let me
hope for a more joyous meeting.”

She retired through her doorway; the folding-doors
closed. I knocked, I implored, but nothing more was to
be heard.

When I called for the reckoning the next morning,
the waiter laughed and said, “So we know why you lock
your doors in such a scientific and incomprehensible way
that no master-key is able to open them. We assumed
that you had a great deal of money and jewels; but
now we have seen your treasure going down-stairs,
and it seemed on all accounts worthy of being well
guarded.” ,

I said nothing in reply, but paid my reckoning and
got into the carriage with my box. I now drove again
into the wide world, with the most fixed intention to
pay heed for the future to my mysterious friend’s warning.
Yet scarce had I again arrived at a large town, when I
presently got acquainted with some amiable young ladies,
 
 
 

334 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Booxk III. 1

from whom I absolutely could not tear myself away.

They seemed disposed to make me pay dearly for their
favour, for, whilst they continued to keep me at a certain
distance, they led me on to one expense after another,

and, as all that I cared for was to further their enjoyment,
I never thought twice about my purse, but paid and
spent away just as occasion occurred. How great then

was my astonishment and delight, when, at the end of 4

some weeks, I noticed that the fulness of my purse showed |
as yet no diminution, but that it was still as round and

bulky as at first. I would fain assure myself more ex-
actly of this pretty quality, and set to work to reckon up.
I noticed the sum precisely, and now began to live
merrily with my companions as before. There was no
stint of country and river-excursions, of dancing, singing,
and other enjoyments; but now it required no great
attention to perceive that the purse really was diminish-
ing, just as if I, by my confounded counting, had taken
away from it the virtue of being uncountable. However
the life of pleasure was once for all in full swing : I could
not draw back, and yet I was soon at the end of my cash.
I cursed my situation, blamed my fair friend who had
thus led me into temptation, took it ill of her that she did
not come on the scene again; repudiated in my anger all
duties towards her, and proposed to myself to open the
box, in case perchance some help might be found in it;
for, though it was not heavy enough to contain gold, yet
there might be jewels in it, and these would have been
very welcome to me. I was on the point of carrying
out my intention ; however I put it off till night-time, in
order to carry out the operation quite quietly, and I
hastened to a banquet, which was just about to take
place. Here again the fun was speeding fast, and we
were highly excited with wine and trumpet-tones, when
by ill-luck it befell me that, at supper-time, an earlier
friend of my favourite fair one, returning from a journey,
came in unexpectedly, sat down by her side, and without
much ceremony sought to assert his old privileges. Hence
arose ill-humour, anger, and strife; we drew, and I was
taken home half dead with sundry wounds.

The surgeon had bandaged me and gone away; it
Cuar. V1.) THE NEW MELUSINA. 335

was already deep in the night, and my attendant had fallen
asleep ; the door of the side-room opened, my mysterious
friend entered, and sat down by my bedside. She asked
how I was; I did not answer, for I was faint and sullen.
She went on speaking with much sympathy, rubbed my
temples with a certain balsam, so that I felt rapidly and
~ distinctly strengthened—so strengthened that I was able
to grow angry and upbraid her. In hasty words I laid all
the blame of my ill-fortune upon her, on the passion with
which she had inspired me, on her appearance, her
disappearance, on the tedium, on the yearning that I had
felt. I became more and more violent, as if a fever were
attacking me, and at last I swore to her that if she would
not be mine—would not this time belong to and unite
herself with me, I cared no longer to live; and thereto I
demanded a decisive answer. When she hesitated and
held back with an explanation, I got quite beside myself,
and tore the double and threefold bandage from the
wounds, with the indubitable intention of letting myself
bleed to death. But how astounded was I when I found
my wounds all healed, my body sleek and shining, and -
her in my arms!

Now were we the happiest couple in the world. We
alternately asked pardon of each other, though we our-
selves knew not rightly wherefore. She now promised to
travel on with me, and we were soon sitting by one
another in the carriage, with the box opposite to us, in
the third person’s place. I had never made any mention
of it to her : and even now it did not occur to me to speak
of it, although it was standing before our eyes, and we
both by a tacit agreement took it in charge as occasion
might require: except that I always lifted it in and out
of the carriage, and, as before, attended to the locking of
the doors.

As long as there was anything left in my purse I had
always paid : when my cash came to an end, I gave her
notice of the fact.” “That is easily remedied,” she said,
pointing to a couple of little pockets, attached to the top
of the carriage at the sides, which I certainly had noticed
before, but had not used. She felt in one, and took out a
few gold pieces, and out of the other a few silver coins,
336 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL 4

and showed me thus the possibility of continuing any sort
of expenditure we liked.

Thus we journeyed from town to town, from country
to country, pleased with ourselves and other people ; and |
never thought that she could again leave me; all the less
50, inasmuch as for some time she had decidedly had expec-
tations through which our happiness and love would be
only further increased. But one morning I found, alas,

that she was no longer there, and as remaining without

her was burdensome to me, I started again on my travels
with my little box, tested the power of the two pockets,
and found that it was still maintained.

The journey sped well; and if, so far, I had had no
further thoughts about my adventure, inasmuch as I was
expecting a perfectly natural explanation of these strange
occurrences, yet there presently happened something
which threw me into astonishment, into anxiety, nay, even
into fear. In order to get far away from the place I was
accustomed to travel night and day, and thus it happened
that I often drove in the dark, and if the lamps by chance
went out, it was pitch dark in my carriage. Once in a
night thus dark I had fallen asleep, and when I awoke I
noticed the reflexion of a light on the roof of my carriage.
I examined it, and found that it issued from the box, in
which there seemed to be a chink, as if it had sprung by
reason of the hot and dry weather of the advancing summer
season. My fancies about the jewels were again set astir;
1 supposed that a carbuncle was lying in the box, and I
was anxious to make certain of it. I put myself in posi-
tion, as well as I could, so that my eye was in close contact
with the chink. But how great was my astonishment,
when I found myself looking in ata room brightly illumi-

nated with candles, and furnished with much taste, nay,

even magnificence, exactly as if I had been looking down
into a royal saloon through an opening in the ceiling. It
is true 1 could see only a part of the room, from which I
could infer the rest. An open fire seemed to be burning,
near which stood an arm-chair, I held my breath and
continued to observe. In the meantime, from the other
side of the saloon, came a young lady with a book in her
hand, whom I at once recognised as my wife, although her

 
Cuar. VI] THE NEW MELUSINA. 337

figure was diminished in the minutest proportion. The
beautiful creature sat down on the seat by the fireplace
to read, and as she arranged the embers with the daintiest
pair of tongs, I could plainly observe that this most love-
able little being was on the point of becoming a mother.
But now I found myself obliged in some measure to change
my inconvenient position, and directly afterwards, when
I was again going to look in, and convince myself that it
had not been a dream, the light vanished, and I looked on
empty darkness.

How amazed, how terrified I was, may be imagined. I
formed a thousand ideas as to this discovery, and yet could
really imagine nothing. Doing this 1 fell asleep, and
when I awoke I fancied that I had just been only dream-
ing. Yet I felt somewhat estranged from my fair one,
and whilst T handled the box only so much the more care-
fully, I knew not whether I must desire or dread her
reappearance in perfect human size.

After some little time, my fair one really did come to me
about eventide, clad in white, and as the room was just
getting dark, she seemed taller to me than she was wont
at other times to appear, and I recollected to have heard
that all the race of nixies and elves are noticeably increased
in height as night approaches. She rushed as usual into
my arms, but I could not with a right glad heart press
her to my burdened breast.

“My darling,” she said, “I feel too well by your recep-
tion, what, alas! I know already. You have seen me in
the interval : you are informed of the situation in which
I find myself at certain periods. Your happiness and mine

is thereby interrupted, nay, is on the point of being utterly’
annihilated. I must leave you, and know not whether I
shall ever see you again.”

Her presence, the grace with which she spoke, imme-
diately banished almost every remembrance of that vision
that even before had only hovered over me like a dream.
I caught her quickly in my arms, convinced her of my
passion, assured her of my innocence, told her the accidental
occasion of my discovery; enough, I did enough to make
her seem pacified, and try to pacify me.

« Put yourself to a strict proof,” said she, “as to whether

g
438 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

this discovery has not been injurious to your love, whether
you can forget that I live with you in a twofold form,
whether the diminution of my person will not also diminish
your affection.” E

I looked at her; she was fairer than ever ; and I thought
to myself, “Is it then so great a misfortune to own a wife
who from time to time becomes a dwarf, so that she can
be carried about in a case? Would it not be much worse
if she became a giantess, and put her husband into the
box ?” My cheerfulness had come back; I would not have
let her go away for everything in the world.

« Sweetheart,” I replied, “let us abide and be as we
have been! Could we two be better off? Consult your
own convenience, and I promise you to carry the case but
so much the more carefully. How should the prettiest
thing that I have seen in my whole life make a bad impres-
sion upon me? How happy would lovers be could they but
possess such miniature pictures! And, after all, it was
only such a picture, a little deception of conjuring. You
are testing and teasing me ; but you shall see how I will
behave.”

“The matter is more serious than you think,” said the
fair one; “meanwhile I am right well content that yeu
make light of it; for it may still have the happiest eon-
sequences for both of us. I will rely upon you, and for
my part do what is possible; only promise me never to
think of this discovery reproachfully. To this I add most
earnestly one more request, beware of wine and of anger
more than ever!”

I promised what she begged. I would have gone on
promising anything and everything; yet she herself.
changed the conversation, and all went on smoothly as
before. We had no reason to alter our place of residence ;
the town was large, and the society of many sorts;
the time of year gave occasion for many rural and garden
entertainments.

In all such amusements my wife was very much in
request ; nay, eagerly sought after by men and by women.
A kindly and engaging manner, combined with a certain
dignity, gained her the love and respect of every one. In
addition to this she played splendidly on the lute, and

 
Cuar. VL] THE NEW MELUSINA. 339

sang to it as well, and all social evenings must needs be
made complete by the aid of her talent.

I desire but to confess that I have never been able to
make much of music; nay, it rather had an unpleasant
effect upon me. My fair one, who had soon noticed this
in me, consequently never sought, when we were alone, to
divert me in this way. On that account she seemed to
indemnify herself in society, where she generally found a
crowd of admirers.

And now, why should I deny it ? Our last conversation, in
spite of my very good intentions, had yet not been suffi-
cient to dismiss the matter entirely. Rather had it attuned
most strangely my whole mode of feeling, without my
having been perfectly conscious of it. So one evening,
at a large party, my smothered ill-humour broke loose,
and therefrom ensued for me the most disadvantageous
consequences.

When I think over it properly, I loved my fair one
much less after the discovery, and now—what had never
occurred to me before—I was getting jealous about her.
This evening, at the supper-table, where we were sitting
diametrically opposite to each other at a considerable dis-
tance, I found myself very well off with my two neigh-
bours, a couple of ladies, who had appeared very charming
to me for some time. Amid jesting and sentimental talk
the wine was not spared. In the meanwhile, on the
other side, a pair of musical amateurs had prevailed on
my wife, and contrived to encourage and lead on the
company to singing both solo and in chorus. This put
me in an ill-humour. The two amateurs seem impor-
tunate ; the singing made me irritable, and when a verse
in solo was demanded from me as well, I became really
indignant, emptied my glass, and set it roughly down.

My neighbours’ tact soon made me feel soothed again,
but it is a bad case for anger if it has once made a start.
It simmered away in secret, although everything ought
to have disposed me to pleasure and to complaisance. On
the contrary, I only grew still more ill-tempered when
a lute was brought, and my fair one accompanied her
song, to the astonishment of everyone else. As ill-luck
would have it, a general silence was requested. So 1

z 2
340 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

was not to be allowed to talk any more; and the sounds
set my teeth on edge. Was it wonderful, then, that the
smallest spark at last set light to the mine?

The songsters had just ended a song amidst the greatest
approval, when she looked across towards me, and in
truth with a right loving look. Unhappily the glance
did not penetrate within me. She noticed that I gulped
down a cup of wine, and filled up another. With her
right-hand forefinger she made a sign of affectionate
threatening.

« Remember that it is wine,” she said, only loud enough
for me to hear it.

“ Water is for nixies!” I exclaimed.

« Ladies,” said she to my neighbours, “crown the cup

with every grace, that it be not so often empty.”

«You surely will not let yourself be domineered over?”
said one of them to me.

“ What ails the imp?” I exclaimed, gesticulating more
wildly, and thereby upsetting the cup.

«Tt is not little that is overthrown,” cried the wondrous
beauty, striking the strings as if to attract the attention
of the company from this interruption to herself again.
In this she actually succeeded; the more so, as she stood
up, but only as if she wished to play with more convenience
to herself, and continued her prelude.

As soon as I saw the red wine streaming over the table-
cloth I came to my senses. I saw how great a fault 1
had committed, and was cut to the very heart. For the
first time the music spoke to me. The first stanza that
she sang was a kindly farewell to the company, whilst as

yet they could still feel that they were together. With

the next stanza the party seemed as it were to be scattered
asunder; each individual felt himself solitary, separated ;
no one imagined himself to be any longer present. But
what should I say of the last stanza? It was addressed to

me alone : the voice of injured love bidding farewell to ill-

temper and presumption.

Mutely I led her home, expecting naught pleasant to
myself. = Yet scarcely had we reached our room than she
proved to be in the highest degree kind and amiable,

nay, even reguish, making me the happiest of men.

€
Crap. VL] ~ THE NEW MELUSINA. 311

The next morning, being completely consoled and full
of affection, I said, ¢ You have so often sung, when chal-
lenged to it by good company, for instance, that touching
farewell-song yesterday evening: sing now, too, for love
of nfe, only this once, a pretty, lively welcome at this
morning hour, so that we may be as if we were learning
to know each other for the first time!”

“That I may not do, my friend,” she replied, with
seriousness; “the song of yesterday evening referred to
our parting, which must now take place forthwith; for I
can tell you only that the violence done to your word and
oath has the evilest consequences for us both: you scoff
away a great gift of fortune, and I, too, must forego my
dearest wishes.” :

When, hereupon, I was urgent with her, and begged
that she would explain herself more clearly, she replied,
«That, alas, I can easily do, for at all events there is an
end of my remaining with you. Hear, then, what I would
rather have concealed from you to the last moments! The
form in which you beheld me in the box is in reality
innate and natural to me, for I am of the race of King
Bckwald, the mighty prince of the dwarfs, of whom au-
thentic history tells so much. Our people are still, as of
old, active and industrious, and for that reason also easy
to govern. But you must not suppose that the dwarfs
have remained behindhand in their labours. Else would
swords, which followed the enemy when they were thrown
after him, invisible and secretly binding fetters, impene-
trable shields and the like, be their most famous produe-
tions; but now they busy themselves especially with
articles of convenience and of adornment, and surpass
therein all other people of the earth. You would be
astonished if you were to walk through our workshops
and warehouses. This would be—this would all be well
now, were, it not that, with the whole nation in general,
but chiefly with the royal family, a special circumstance
came into play.” :

As she remained silent for a moment, I entreated her
for further disclosure of these marvellous secrets, which
she forthwith conceded to me.

«Jt is well known,” she said, ¢ that God, as socn as he
342 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL.

had created the world, and the whole earth was dry, and |
mountains stood there mighty and glorious—God, I say,
forthwith created, before anything else, the dwarfs, in !
order that there might also be rational beings, who in their |
burrows and clefts might marvel at and adore His wonders
in the inner parts of the earth. Furthermore, it is known
that this little race later became lifted up, and aspired to
gain for themselves the dominion of the earth, wherefore
God then created dragons in order to drive the dwarfs back
into their mountains. But since the dragons themselves
were wont to make their nests in the great holes and
caverns, and there to live, many of them, too, spitting fire,
and working much other devastation, the dwarfs were
thus reduced to great straits and distress, so much so,
that no longer knowing where to come or go, they there-
fore very humbly and imploringly turned themselves to
God the Lord, and called to Him in prayer that He would
bring to naught again this unclean breed of dragons. But
although in His wisdom He could not determine to destroy
His own creatures, yet the dire need of the poor dwarfs so
went to His heart, that He immediately created the giants,
who were to fight the dragons, and, if not root them out,
at least diminish their number.

« But no sooner had the giants pretty well done with
the dragons, than pride and arrogance arose forthwith
within them, and in consequence they perpetrated much
evil, especially towards the poor dwarfs, who in their dis-
stress turned themselves again to the Lord : He thereupon
in the power of His might created knights who were to
fight the giants and dragons and live on good terms with
the dwarfs. With this the work of creation was completed
in this direction, and it has come to pass that henceforth
giants and dragons as well as khights and dwarfs have
always managed to co-exist. ~Whereby you may see,
my friend, that we belong to the oldest race in the world,
which is certainly to our honour, but which also carries
with it great disadvantages.

« For since nothing can last for ever in the world, but
everything that has once been great, must become small
and decrease, we, too, are in this case, that since the ¢reation
of the world we have always been decreasing and getting

 
Crap. VI] THE NEW MELUSINA. 343

smaller, and above all the others the royal family, which,
on account of the purity of its blood, is the first to be
subjected to this destiny. On this account our wise
instructors have many years ago devised this expedient,
that from time to time a princess of the royal house is
sent out into the world to wed herself with some honour-
able knight, in order that the race of dwarfs may be again
invigorated, and saved from total ruin.”

Whilst my fair one uttered these words with thorough
simplicity, I looked at her with misgiving, for it seemed
as if she had a wish to impose upon me. As far as her
pretty pedigree was concerned I had no further doubt,
but that she had got hold of me in place of a knight, this
caused me some mistrust, inasmuch as I know myself too
well to think of supposing that my forefathers were
created directly by God.

I concealed my wonder and doubt, and asked her kindly,
“ But tell me, my dear child, how do you attain to this tall
and shapely form? for I know few women that can be
compared with you in fineness of figure.”

“That you shall hear,” replied my fair one. “It has been
handed down for ages in the council of the dwarf-king that
we should beware of taking this extraordinary step as
long as possible—which indeed I find quite natural and
proper. There would probably have still been much
hesitation about sending out a princess into the world
again, if my younger brother had not been brought into
the world so small, that the nurses actually lost him out
of his swaddling clothes and no one knows whither he has
gone. At this occurrence, altogether unknown in the
annals of the dwarf realm, the wise men were assembled,
and without further parley the resolution was taken to
send me out to look for a husband.”

«The resolution!” I exclaimed ; ¢ this is all very fine:
you may take a resolution, you may come to a determina-
tion; but to give a dwarf this form divine, how did your
wise men bring that about ?”

« This was already provided for by our ancestors,” she
said, “In the royal treasury lay an immense gold finger-
ring. I speak of it now as it appeared to me when it was
formerly shown to me as a child, in its place; for it is the
344 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL

same that I have here on my finger. And now the
following process was gone through.

«T was informed of all that awaited me, and was in-
structed as to what I was to do and not to do. A magni-
ficent palace, after the pattern of my parents’ favourite
summer-residence, was made ready—a main building, side-
wings, and everything that one can but wish for. It stood
at the entrance of a great rocky ravine, which it adorned
to the utmost. On the appointed day the court with-
drew thither, with me and my parents. The army was
reviewed, and four and twenty priests, not without diffi-
culty, bore the wondrous ring upon a costly barrow. It
was laid upon the threshold of the building just inside
where one would step. Many ceremonies were gome
through, and after a heartfelt farewell, I advanced to the
work. I stepped up to it, laid my hand upon the ring,
and forthwith began visibly to increase. In a few
moments I had reached my present stature, whereupon I
straightway put the ring upon my finger. Then, on the
instant, windows, door and gates closed up, the side-wings
drew back into the main building : in place of the palace,
stood a small box beside me, which I at once lifted up,
and carried with me, not without a pleasant feeling in
being so large and so strong, though still, it is true, a
dwarf compared with trees and mountains, with streams
and tracts of land, but yet to all intents a giant compared
with grass and herbs, but especially with the ants, with
whom we dwarfs are not always on good terms, and by
whom consequently we are often annoyed. -

« How I fared on my pilgrimage, before I met you—of
this I might have a good deal to tell. Enough, I tried
many, but no one else but you seemed to me worthy to
renovate and perpetuate the line of the princely Eckwald.”

During all” these communications my head kept wag-
ging, though I did not actually shake it. I put various
questions, to which however I obtained no particular
answer ; but rather learnt, to my very great sorrow, that
after what had happened she must of necessity return to
her parents. She hoped, indeed, to come back to me, but
at present she must inevitably present herself, since other-
wise all would be lost for her as well as for me. The
Omar. VI.} THE NEW MELUSINA. 345

purses would soon leave off paying, and all sorts of other
consequences would ensue therefrom.

When I heard that our money might run out, I en=
quired no further what else might happen. I shrugged
my shoulders and said nothing, and she seemed to under-
stand me.

We packed up together and took our seats in the
carriage, with the box opposite to us, in which however 1
could not yet see anything like a palace. And so we
went on for several stages. Post-money and drink-money
were readily and liberally paid from the pockets on the
right hand and left, till we came at last to a hilly district,
and we had scarcely alighted than my fair one walked
on in front and I followed at her bidding with the box.
She led me along a tolerably steep path to a narrow plot
of meadow-land, through which a clear brook partly
rushed down and partly meandered at a quiet pace.
There she pointed out to me a raised level plot, bade me
get-down the box and said * Farewell, you will easily find
the way back. Think of me; I hope to see you again.”

At this moment I felt as if I could not leave her. She
was just then in one of her good days again, orif you will,
her good hours. To be with so loveable a being on the
verdant carpet amidst grass and flowers, concealed by
rocks, lulled by the rill, what heart could have remained
unmoved ? I could have seized her hand, clasped her in my
arms, but she pressed me back, and threatened me, though
still lovingly enough, with great perilifI did not straight-
way withdraw.

«Js there then no possibility,” I exclaimed, “of my
staying with you, of your being able to keep me with

ou?”
¥ I accompanied these words with gestures and tones so
full of sorrow that she seemed touched, and after a little
thought admitted to me that a continuance of our union
was not utterly impossible. Who was happier than I?
My importunity, which grew more and more urgent, at
last obliged her to say the word, and disclose to me, that
if T would make up my mind to become, together with
her, as small as I had already seen her, I could even now
stay with her, and enter with her into her dwelling, her
346 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS, [Book IIL. :

kingdom, and her family. This plan did not altogether 4
please me. Yet I could not all at this moment tear
myself away from her, and having now for a long time
been accustomed to the marvellous, and being bound to a
speedy resolution, I agreed, and said that she might do
what she liked with me.

I had forthwith to hold out the little finger of my right |!
hand ; she set her own against it, with her left hand drew
the gold ring quite gently off, and let it slide on to my
finger. This was scarcely done than I felt a severe pain
in the finger: the ring contracted and tortured me
horribly. 1 gave a loud scream, and involuntarily gazed
around me for my beautiful one, who, however, had
disappeared. What my state of mind was in the mean-
time I could find no words to express, nor does aught
remain for me to say but that I very soon found myself
in diminutive form, close by my fair one in a forest of
grass-blades. The delight of meeting again after a short
and yet so strange a separation, or if you will, a reunion
without separation, transcends all conception. I fell upon
her neck : she returned my caresses, and the little couple
felt as happy as the big one.

With some trouble we now proceeded to climb up a
hill, for the sward had become for us an almost impene-
trable forest. Yet at last we reached a clear space, and
how astounded was I to see there a large barred and bolted
pile, which, however, I was soon forced to recognise as the
box in the condition in which I had set it down. £

“Go, dear friend, and only knock with the ring. You
will see wonders,” said my beloved.

I went up to it, and had hardly knocked when I really
witnessed the greatest marvel. Two side-wings came
forward, and at the same time, like scales and chips, down
fell sundry portions, whereupon doors, windows, arcades
and all that pertains to a complete palace, came all at
once to view.

Any one who has seen one of Rontgens’* ingenious
writing-tables, in which, by one pull, a number of catches
and strings come into play, and desk, writing materials,
letter-drawers, and money-drawers are brought out all at
* David Rontgen : a mechanician and cabinet-maker of Neuwied.—D.

 
Car. VL] THE NEW MELUSINA. 347

once or soon after each other, will be able to form some
idea of the unfolding of this palace into which my sweet
conductress now introduced me. In the principal saloon
I at once recognised the chimney that I had formerly
seen from above, and the seat upon which she sat. And
when I looked above my head I fancied that I actually
still saw something of the rift in the dome through
which I had looked in. I spare you a description of the
rest : enough, all was spacious, costly and tasteful. I
had scarcely recovered from my astonishment, when I
heard in the distance a military band. My lovely half
jumped for joy, and informed me with delight of the
approach of her royal father. We stepped out to the
entrance and looked as a brilliant procession defiled out
of a beautiful rocky chasm. Soldiers, servants, house-
hold officials, and a brilliant array of courtiers followed one
behind the other. Finally we beheld a gilded crowd and
in it the king himself. When the whole procession was
drawn up in front of the palace the king come forward
with his most select retinue. His loving daughter ran to
meet him, dragging me with her ; we threw ourselves at his
feet ; he raised me very graciously, and only when I came to
stand in front of him did I notice that in this miniature
world I was actually the most considerable in stature.
We walked together towards the palace, when the king,
in the presence of his whole court, and in a studied speech,
in which he expressed his astonishment at finding us here,
was pleased to bid me welcome, acknowledged me as his
son-in-law, and fixed the nuptial ceremony for the next
day.

3 what a terrible state of mind was I, when I heard
marriage spoken of! for I had hitherto dreaded this, almost
more than music itself, which otherwise seemed to me the
most hateful thing upon earth. “People that make music,”
I was accustomed to say, * at least fancy that they are at
one with each other, and working in unison, for when they
have been tuning-up, and rending our ears with all sorts
of discords long enough, they fancy, safely and surely,
that the matter is now simplified, and that one instrument
accords exactly with another. Even the director is under
this happy delusion, and now they set off merrily, whilst
348 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL ih

for the rest of us our ears keep on tingling. In the wedded =

state, on the other hand, even this is not the case: for

although it is only a duet, and one would think that two

voices, nay two instruments, must be able to be brought

into some sort of tune, yet this seldom happens : for if the

husband emits one note, the wife immediately takes a |

higher one, and the husband a higher again ; then it passes

from the chamber-pitch to the choral, and so on, higher and

higher, so that at last even wind instruments cannot keep
up with it, and thus, seeing that harmonic music continues
hateful to me, it is still less to be supposed -that I should
endure the unharmonic.

Of all the festivities in which the day was spent I need
not and cannot say anything, for I took little heed of them.
The sumptuous food, the delicious wine, everything was
distasteful to me : I was thinking and considering what I
should do. And yet there was not much to be thought of.
When night came, I made up my mind, without more ado,
to get up and go away and hide myself somewhere or
other. Accordingly I got safely to a crevice in the rock
into which I squeezed and concealed myself as well as
possible. My first anxiety after this was to get the
unlucky ring from off my finger, but in this I was by no
means successful ; rather I was compelled to feel that it
always got tighter as soon as I attempted to draw it off,
causing me to endure acute pains, which, however, abated
as soon as I desisted from my intention.

Early in the morning I woke up—for my little body had
slept very well—and was just going to look a little further
about me, when it began to rain, as it almost seemed, upon
me. For something fell down in large quantities like
sand or grit, through grass, leaves, and flowers; but how
horrified I was, when the whole place round about me
seemed to be alive, and an innumerable host of ants rushed
down upon me. No sooner did they perceive me, than they
attacked me on all sides, and although I defended myself
vigorously and bravely enough, they at last so over-
whelmed, pinched, and pricked me, that I was glad when
T heard a demand that I should surrender. I, in fact, did
surrender on the spot, whereupon an ant of remarkable
size approached me with politeness, nay, with reverence,
Crap. VL] THE NEW MELUSINA. 349

and even recommended himself to my favour. I learned
that the ants were allies of my father-in-law, and that he
had summoned them to his aid in the present emergency,
and enjoined them to fetch me back. Little as I was, I
was now in the hands of creatures still less. I had now
to look forward to the wedding, and must needs thank
God if my father-in-law were not enraged, and my fair one
become vexed.

- Let me pass over in silence all the ceremonies: enough,
we were married ; yet merrily and gaily as the time passed
with us, there were nevertheless some lonely hours, when
one is led to reflexion; and something happened to me
which had never happened before. What it was and how it
* happened you shall hear.

Everything about me was completely proportioned to
my present shape and to my requirements; the bottles and
glasses were well adapted to a small drinker, nay, if you
will, in accordance with a better standard than ours. To
my small gums the dainty mouthfuls had an excellent
flavour; a kiss from the little mouth of my wife was the
most enchanting thing in the world, and I do not deny
that novelty made all these circumstances in the highest
degree pleasing. Yet at the same time I had unhappily
not forgotten my former state of existence. I felt within
me a measure of former greatness, which made me restless
and unhappy. Now for the first time I saw what the
philosophers mean with their ideals, wherewith mankind
are said to be so plagued. I had an ideal of myself, and
often appeared to myself in dreams as a giant. Enough ;
the wife, the ring, the diminutive form, and so many
other bonds, made me thoroughly and completely
miserable, so that I began to think seriously of my
deliverance.

As I was persuaded that the whole magic lay in the
ring, I determined to file it off. Accordingly I borrowed
some files from the court jeweller. Fortunately I was
left-handed, and had never in my life done anything in a
right-handed way. I kept bravely at the work, which
was no trifle, for the golden circle, thin as it appeared, had
grown thicker, in proportion, as it had contracted from its
former size. All leisure hours I devoted, unobserved, to
350 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boox III.

this task, and was wise enough, when the metal was
nearly filed through, to step outside the door. This was
well advised, for all at once the golden hoop sprang |
forcibly from my finger, and my figure shot upwards with |
such violence, that I fancied I really struck the sky, and
in any case would have broken through the dome of our |
summer palace, nay, would have destroyed the entire
pavilion with my rude clumsiness.

So there I stood again, certainly so much the bigger,
but, as I considered, also much more foolish and helpless.
And when I recovered from my stupefaction, I saw lying
near me the case, which I found tolerably heavy when I
lifted it up, and took the foot-path downwards to the post-

hem ane

house, where I immediately ordered horses and set forth.

On the way, I presently made trial of the pockets on both

sides. Instead of money, which seemed to be exhausted, I |

found a little key : it belonged to the box, in which I found

a moderate reserve fund. Aslong as this held out, I made |
use of the carriage, then this was sold to allow of my '

going on by the diligence; at length I cast away the box,
for I kept thinking that it ought to fill itself once more;

and so finally, though by a considerable circuit, I came

back to the chimney-corner and the cook, where you first
made my acquaintance.
( 851 )

CHAPTER VIL

Hersilia to Wilhelm.

AcQUAINTANCESHIPS, even if they commence as ordinary
ones, have often the most important results: and this is
certainly the case with yours, which from the very
beginning was not an ordinary one. The wonderful key
came into my hands as a strange pledge; now I possess
the casket as well. Key and casket! What say you to
that? What should be said to it ? Listen how it happened.

A young man of refined manners calls upon my uncle,
and informs him that the skilful dealer in antiquities

. who had been for some time connected with you, had died
a short time before, and bequeathed to him the whole of
his extraordinary residue, but at the same time had im-
posed upon him the duty of immediately restoring all
alien property, which was, in fact, only on deposit. “No
one need be troubled about property of his own, for its loss
he alone has to bear ; but only in special cases had he
allowed himself to take charge of other people’s property.
He did not wish him to be burdened with this responsi-
bility, nay, in all fatherly love and authority, he forbade
him to meddle therewith.” And hereupon he drew forth
the casket, which, though I was already familiar with it
by description, still struck me most particularly.

My uncle, after looking at it from every side, gave it
back and said that he, too, made a principle of acting in
the same way, and burdened himself with no antique
object, however beautiful and wonderful it might be,
unless he knew to whom it had formerly belonged, and
what historical interest might be associated with it. Now
this casket exhibited neither letters nor ciphers, neither
352 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL °

date nor any other indication, from which the former
owner or artist could be guessed; thus to him it was
utterly useless and uninteresting.

The youth stood in considerable embarrassment, and |

after some reflexion asked if he would not allow him to
leave it with his men of business. My uncle laughed,
and turning to me said, “This would be nice matter for
you, Hersilia. You have all sorts of other ornaments
and pretty trinkets: put this amongst them! for I would
lay a wager that our friend, who is still not indifferent to
you, will come again, by-and bye, and take it away.”
This I must write to you, if I am to tell my story
truly, and then I must confess that I looked at the casket
with envious eyes, and a certain covetousness took
possession of me. It was repugnant to me to think of
this lordly treasure-casket, assigned by fate to the sweet
Felix ; in the ancient and rusty iron strong box, of the office.
Like a magic wand, my hand drew towards it; my little

grain of sense held it back. I had the key, verily; that y

I dared not disclose : how should I inflict on myself the

martyrdom of leaving the lock unopened, or allow myself

the unwarrantable boldness of unlocking it? But, I know
not whether it was longing or presentiment, I imagined

that you were coming soon, would be there already when |

I went to my room : in short, I felt so strange, so queer,
go confused, as is always the case when I am forced out of
my even-tempered cheerfulness. I say no more, neither
by way of description or apology. Enough ; here the
casket lies before me in my jewel-case, the key beside it,
and if you have any sort of heart or kindliness, think
what a state I am in, how many passions contend within
me, how I wish for you, and Felix too, that there may be
an end of it, at least that some hint may be given of what
is the meaning of this marvellous finding, refinding,
separating, and re-uniting. And even if I am not to be
rescued from all perplexity, at least I wish most earnestly
that this may be cleared up and ended, even though
something worse, as I fear, should befall me.
( 353)

CHAPTER VIII

Avonast the papers which lie before us for editing,
we find a conceit, which we insert here without further
preliminary, because our affairs are getting more and
more urgent, and we may not be able to find a place
for such irregularities further on.

On the whole this story may not be unpleasing to
the reader, as it was told by St. Christopher in the merry
evening hours to a circle of jovial comrades assembled : —

Tae Hazarpous WAGER.

It is a well-known fact that people, as soon as they are
in any degree getting on well and after their desires,
are straightway at a loss to know what, in their pride
of heart, they shall lay their hand to. And thus also
mettlesome students were accustomed during the vaca-
tions to roam in flocks through the country, playing the
fool after their kind, which, in fact, was not always
followed by the best results. They were of very different
sorts, such as student-life brings together and unites :
unequal in birth, wealth, intellect and education, but
all of them good company, leading and egging-on one
another in merry mood. But they would often select
me for a companion; for if I carried heavier burdens
than any one of them, yet they must needs give me
the honorary title of a great jester; and chiefly for this
reason, that I played my pranks more seldom but so
much the more effectually—to which the following story
may bear witness.

We had arrived in our wanderings at a pleasant
mountain village, which with an isolated situation had

24
354 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

the advantage of a posting station, and a few pretty girls
in great solitude, as inhabitants. Our object was to rest,
kill time, flirt, live more cheaply for awhile, and by that
means waste more money. :

It was just after dinner, when some were in an elevated,
others in a depressed condition ; some were lying sleeping
away their over-indulgence, others would rather give
it vent in some unrestrained way or other. ‘We had a
couple of large rooms in a side wing towards the court-
yard. A fine carriage which rattled in with four horses
attracted us to the window. The servants jumped down

from the box and helped out a gentleman of dignified

and distinguished appearance, who notwithstanding his
years still walked up vigorously enough.

His large and finely formed nose first caught my eye,
and I know not what evil spirit was prompting me that
in a moment I hit on the maddest scheme, and without
further thought immediately began to put it in practice.

“ What is your opinion of this gentleman?” I asked of
the company.

«He looks,” said ome, “as if he would not stand a
joke.”

: “ Aye, aye,” said another, * he has quite the look of a
distinguished ¢ Meddle-not-with-me.’”

“ And nevertheless,” said I quite confidently, ¢ what do
you bet that I will not tweak him by the nose without
getting any harm from it myself! Nay, I will even get
him to be a good patron to myself by doing it.”

If you accomplish that,” said Swagger, “we'll each
give you a louis-d’or.

“ Pay in the money for me,” I exclaimed; “I rely upon

ou.”

«I had rather pluck a hair from a lion’s muzzle,” said
the little one.

«I have no time to lose,” replied I, and rushed down-
stairs.

On my first glance at the stranger I had noticed that
he had a very strong beard, so I guessed that none of
his attendants could shave. I now met the waiter, and
asked, “Has not the stranger gentleman asked for a
barber ? ”

 
Cur. VIIL] THE HAZARDOUS WAGER. 983

“Indeed he has,” replied the waiter, “and with very
good reason. The gentleman’s valet stopped behind two
days ago. The gentleman wants to be rid absolutely
of his beard; and our only barber—who can tell where-
abouts in the neighbourhood he has gone!”

“Then mention me,” replied I. “Only introduce me
as a barber to the gentleman, and you will gain honour
together with me.”

I took the shaving-tools that I found in the house, and
followed the waiter. = The old gentleman received me with
great solemnity, and looked at me from top to toe, as if
wanting to search out my dexterity from my physiognomy.

“Do you understand your trade?” he said to me.

“TI am looking for my equal,” replied I, “ without boast-
ing of myself.”

1 was also sure of my qualification, for I had at an
early age practised the noble art, and was especially noted
on this account, that I shaved with the left hand.

The room in which the gentleman made his toilet ex-
tended to the courtyard, and was situated exactly in such
a manner that our friends could conveniently look in,
especially when the windows were open. To the usual
preparations nothing more was wanting : my patron had
sat down and had had the towel put on.

I stepped very respectfully in front of him, and said:
“Your excellency, in the practice of my art 1 have par-
ticularly noticed that I have always shaved common
people better and more satisfactorily than the gentry. I
have thought over this for a long time, and have tried to
find the reason, now in this way, now in that, and at last
I have discovered that I work much better in the open
air than in closed rooms. Will your excellency allow
me, therefore, to open the window, when you will soon
experience the effect to your own satisfaction.

He gave his consent: I opened the window, gave my
friends a nod, and fell to lathering the bristly beard with
much grace. No less nimbly and lightly I mowed away
the stubble from the field, and in doing so did not hesitate,
when I came to the upper lip, to grasp my patron by the
nose, and palpably bend it up and down, at the same
time contriving to put myself in such positions that the

242
356 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

wagerers, to their great delight, must needs see and
confess that their side had lost.

With great dignity the old gentleman stepped up to the
looking-glass: one could see that he looked at himself with
some complacency, and in reality he was a very handsome
man. Then he turned to me with a dark flashing but
kindly look, and said: “You deserve, my friend, to be
praised above many of your like, for I notice in you much
less clumsiness than in others: you do not travel two or
three times over the same place, but do it in one stroke,
nor do you wipe the razor as so many do in the open hand,
and flourish the wipings under the person’s nose. But
your cleverness with your left hand is especially remark-
able.” ¢ Here is something for your trouble,” he resumed,
handing me a florin; “only remember one thing—that
people of quality are not taken hold of by the nose. If
you will avoid this boorish custom for the future, you may
yet make your fortune in the world.”

I bowed low, promised to do all I could, begged him, if
he should chance to return, to honour me again, and ran
as fast as I could to our youngsters, who at the last had
caused me a good deal of anxiety. For they raised such
roars of laughter and yells, leaped about like maniacs
in the room, clapped their hands and shouted, woke the
people who were asleep, and kept describing the affair with
ever fresh laughter and madness, that I myself, as soon as I
got into the room, shut the window at once, and begged
them for God’s sake to be quiet; but at last I was forced to
laugh with them at the look of an absurd affair that I had
carried through with so much gravity.

When, after a time, the raging waves of laughter were
somewhat subsided, I considered myself lucky: I had the
gold pieces in my pocket, and the well-earned florin into
the bargain, and looked upon myself as well provided,
which was all the more satisfactory, as the party had
decided to separate the next day. But we were not
destined to part company with propriety and good order.
The story was too taking for them to have been able to
keep it to themselves, though I had begged and prayed

them only to hold their tongues till the departure of the

old gentleman. One of us, called Go-ahead, had a love
Cuar. VIIL] THE HAZARDOUS WAGER. 357

affair with the daughter of the house. They met, and
Heaven knows whether it was that he did not know how
to amuse her better, at any rate he told her the joke, and
they almost died with laughing together over it. That
was not the end of it, for the girl laughingly repeated the
story, and so at last, a little before bed-time, it reached
the old gentleman.

We were sitting more quietly than usual, for there had
been uproar enough all day, when all at once the little
waiter, who was very much devoted to us, rushed in,
crying, « Save yourselves !—you’ll be beaten to death!”

We jumped to our feet, and would have known more
about it, but he was already out of the door again. I sprang
up, and pushed-to the bolt, but already we heard a knock-
ing®and banging at the door, nay, we thought we heard it
being split with an axe. We mechanically retreated into
the second room, all struck dumb. « We are betrayed,” 1
exclaimed ; “the devil has us by the nose!”

Swagger grasped at his sword ; I however at this point
showed my giant strength, and without assistance pushed
a heavy chest of drawers before the door, which fortunately
opened inwards; yet already we heard the hubbub in the
other room, and the most violent blows at our door.

The baron seemed determined to defend himself; but I
repeatedly called out to him and the others, «Save your-
selves : you have not only blows to fear here, but disgrace,
which is worse for noblemen.”

The girl rushed in, the same who had betrayed us, now
desperate to find her lover in mortal peril.

“ Away, away!” she cried, and seized hold of him ;
«away, away ! I will take you through lofts, barns, and
passages. Come, all of you; the last must draw the
ladder after him.”

They all rushed to the back-door and out of it. I just
lifted a box upon the chest, in order to force back and
keep firm the already broken lining of the besieged door,
but my courage and daring had nearly been my ruin.

When I ran to join the others, I found that the ladder
was already drawn up, and saw that all hope of saving
myself ‘was completely cut off. There stand I, the
actual transgressor, having already resigned the hope of
358 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL

escaping with a whole skin and unbroken bones ; and who
knows—yet leave me standing there with my thoughts,
since after all I am here to tell you the tale. Only hear
still how this rash jest was lost in ill consequences.

The old gentleman, deeply hurt by this unavenged in-
dignity, took it to heart, and it is said that this circum-
stance contributed to, if it did not immediately cause, his
death. His son, trying to trace the perpetrators, unfortu-
nately found out the baron’s participation, though only
clearly after many years, called him out, and a wound by
which the handsome man was disfigured troubled him for
his whole life. For his adversary, too, this affair spoilt
several fair years, through events accidentally connected
with it.

Since every fable should, properly, teach something,
what the present one is intended to teach is doubtless
perfectly clear and evident to all.
( 859 )

CHAPTER IX.

Tre day of utmost importance had dawned; to-day were
to be taken the first steps towards the general migration,
to-day was it to be determined who would actually set
forth into the world, or who would rather stay on this side
and try his fortune on the undivided surface of the Old
World.

A merry burden resounded in all the streets of the
cheerful country town. Groups of people gathered to-
gether, the individual members of each craft combined,
and, singing in unison, filed in an order determined by lot
into the hall.

The authorities, as we will designate Lenardo, Friedrich
and the Bailiff, were on the point of following them and
taking the places due to their position, when a man of
attractive appearance came up to them and asked their
permission to be able to take part in the meeting. It
would have been impossible to refuse him anything, so
orderly, prepossessing and amiable was his demeanour,
by the aid of which an imposing carriage, which pointed
to the army as well as the court and good society, showed
itself to the highest advantage. He went in with the
others, and a place of honour was accorded to him. All
the rest having sat down, Lenardo remained standing, and
began to speak as follows :

“If we consider, my friends, the most populous pro-
vinces and kingdoms of the Continent, we find all over,
wherever available soil occurs, that it is tilled, planted,
kept in order and made beautiful, and in like measure
sought after, taken possession of, fortified and defended.
Thus, accordingly, do we convince ourselves of the high
value of landed possession, and are forced to look upon it
360 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book III.

as the first, the best thing that can be man’s. When we
find then on closer inspection the love of parents and chil-
dren, the close clanship of fellow-countrymen and fellow-
townsmen, as well as the general patriotic sentiment
based immediately upon the soil, then does this acquisition
and retention of area in large or small amount seem ever
more important and worthy of respect. Yes, thus has
Nature willed it! A man born upon the sod comes by
custom to belong to it. The two grow with one another,
and forthwith knit for themselves the most pleasing bonds.
Who is there then that would lay hostile hands on the
ground-work of all existence, or deny worth and dignity
to so fair a gift of heaven.

“ And yet one might say: If what man possesses
is of great worth, to what he does and achieves a still
greater must be ascribed. We may therefore, in a com-
plete review, regard land-ownership as a smaller part of
the goods that have been granted to us; but the most and
the highest of them consist really in what is movable,
and that which is gained in a life of movement.

“ For such are we younger men especially bound to look
round about us; for even if we had a desire to stay and
plod on with our fathers’ inheritance, yet do we find our-
selves summoned a thousand times by no means to shut
our eyes to a wider prospect outwards and round about.
Let us therefore hasten quickly to the sea-shore, and
convince ourselves in one look what immeasurable spaces
stand open for activity, and let us confess that at the
mere thought we find ourselves quite differently aroused.

“Yet we will not lose ourselves in such boundless
expanses, but turn our attention to the solid, wide, broad
soil of so many countries and kingdoms. There we see
large tracts of the country overrun by nomads whose
towns are removable, whose living, supporting possession
of herds should everywhere be introduced. We see them
in the midst of the desert, in a large green meadow-plot,
lying, as it were, at anchor in a longed-for haven. Such
motion, such wandering, becomes a habit to them, a neces-
sity ; at last they look upon the surface of the earth as
if 1t were not hemmed-in by mountains, nor penetrated

 
Car. 1X.) WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 361

by rivers. Still have we seen the north-east move towards
the south-west; one people driving another before it—
domination and ownership completely altered.

“ From over-peopled countries will the same thing happen
again in the great cycle of the earth. ‘What we have to
expect from other nations it would be difficult to say; but
it is wonderful how, through our awn over-population, we
cramp each other from within: and without waiting to
be driven out, we drive ourselves out; pronouncing of
our own accord the sentence of banishment against one
another.

«This then is the time and place for giving play, with-
out vexation or downheartedness in our souls, to a certain
restlessness, not suppressing the impatient longing which
urges us to change our position and place. Yet let not
whatsoever we intend and purpose come to pass from
hasty feeling, nor from any other sort of compulsion, but
from conviction corresponding to the best advice.

«Tt has been said and repeated, ¢ Where I am well off,
there is my fatherland ;’ yet this comforting proverb
would be better expressed if it ran, ¢ Where I am useful,
there is my fatherland.’ At home a man can be useless,
without its being noticed at once: out in the world use-
lessuess is soon evident. If then I say, ¢ Let each one try
to be useful to himself and others everywhere,’ this is
no doctrine or piece of advice, but the declaration of life
itself.

« Now let us look at the globe, and for the present leave
the sea unregarded. See that you are not carried away
by the swarms of ships, but fix your glance upon the
mainland, and marvel how it is overspread by a teeming,
intercrossing ant-race. This has the Lord God himself
allowed, whilst he prevented the building of the tower of
Babel, and scattered the human race over all the world.
Let us therefor praise Him, for this blessing has gone out
upon all generations.

« Observe with pleasure how all youth hastens to set
itself in motion. Since instruction is offered to it neither
in the house nor at the doors, it forthwith speeds to
countries and citigg, whither the renown of knowledge
362 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

and wisdom entices it. After receiving a swift and
moderate education it feels itself presently driven to take
a further look round in the world to see whether it can
thus or anywhere find out and snatch up any useful ex-
perience helpful to its ends. May it accordingly light on
good luck! But we are thinking of those accomplished
and distinguished men, those noble enquirers into Nature,
who willingly encounter every difficulty, every danger, in
order to open out the world to the world, and through
the most trackless wastes make a path and road.

“ But mark you, too, up the level highways, cloud upon
cloud of dust, indicating the track of commodious high-
packed vehicles, in which the noble, the rich, and so many
others roll along, whose varying way of thought and object
Yorick * has so gracefully contrasted for us.

“ But the sturdy craftsman on foot may look after them
reassured ; for on him the fatherland has imposed the
duty of making foreign ability his own, and of not re-
turning to the native hearth until he has succeeded in
this. But more generally we meet upon our road mar-
ket-folk and pedlars; a small tradesman even dares not
omit to leave his stall from time to time, to visit fairs
and markets, to visit the wholesale dealer, and augment
his scanty profit by the example and participation of
the unlimited. But yet more unrestingly, in the shape
of individuals on horseback, swarms in all the main and
side streets the crowd of those whose occupation it is to
make a claim on our purse, even against our will. Sam-
ples of all kinds, price-lists pursue us in town and country
houses, and; wherever we may flee for refuge, industriously
astonish us, offering opportunities which it would never
occur to any one in his senses to seek out for himself,
But what shall I say now of the people which before
all others appropriates for itself the blessing of eternal
wandering, and by its restless aetivity contrives to outwit
those who stand still and outstrip its fellow-wanderers?
We need speak neither well nor ill of it. Nothing good,
because our association keeps them aloof; nothing evil,

* Laurence Sterne, whose ‘ Sentimental Journ y ’ is referred to.—ED.

 
Crap. IX.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 363

because the traveller—mindful of reciprocal advantage—
is bound to deal civilly with everyone he meets.

“But, now, before all things we have to think with
sympathy of all artists; for they are throughout inter-
connected in the movement of the world. Does not the
painter wander with easel and palette from face to face?
and are not his brethren in art summoned, now here, now
there—for there is building and modelling to be done
everywhere? But more briskly does the musician step
onward ; for it is he especially who affords new surprise
to a new ear—fresh astonishment for a fresh mind. Then
the players, though they despise the cart of Thespis, yet
still travel about in smaller companies, and their movable
world is erected in every spot nimbly enough. Thus
individually, foregoing serious and profitable engagements,
they like to change one place for another where their
augmented talent with similarly augmented requirements
affords opportunity and pretext. Thereby they generally
so train themselves beforehand that they leave no im-
portant stage in their country untrodden.

«Next are we presently reminded to glance at the
teaching class. This likewise you find in perpetual ac-
tivity ; one professional chair after the other is occupied
and left in order to scatter richly—yes, in every direction
— the seeds of quick culture. But more industrious, and of
wider scope, are those pious souls who disperse themselves
through all quarters of the world to bring salvation to
the nations. Others, again, go as pilgrims to get salvation
for themselves; whole hosts of them march to sanctified
miraculous places, there to seek and to gain what their
souls could not obtaif at home.

«Tf all these, now, do not set us wondering, inasmuch
as their doings and fabstainings would for the most part
be not conceivable without wandering, yet those who
devote their industry to the soil we might at least regard
as bound to it. By nomeans! Utilization can be imagined
even without possession, and we see the keen cultivator
forsaking a plot which has yielded him as a tenant-farmer
profit and pleasure for a number of years; he seeks im-
patiently for/the same, or greater profits, be it near or far,
364 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

Nay, the owner himself leaves his newly-cleared tillage,
as soon as he has made it, by his working, acceptable
to a less expert settler. Anew he penetrates into the
desert, a second time makes for himself a place in the
forests ; in compensation for his former toil, a double and
a threefold larger space—upon which, perhaps, too, he
thinks of not remaining.

“Tet us leave him there, at war with bears and other
beasts, and come back to the civilized world, where we find
things in no sense more at rest. Look at any great well-
ordered kingdom, where the most apt must suppose him-
self to be the most easy to move : at the nod of a prince,
at the order of the state council, the useful man is con-
veyed from one place to the other. To him, too, our ex-
hortation applies—‘ Try to be of use everywhere, every-
where are you at home.” But let us look at important
statesmen, leaving, though unwillingly, their high posi-
tions; so have we reason to pity them, since we must
require them neither as emigrators mor as travellers;
not as emigrators, because they renounce a desirable
position without any prospect of a better situation being
opened out for them even in appearance only; not as
travellers, because to be useful to other places in any way
is seldom conceded to them.

“The soldier, however, is called to a peculiarly wander-
ing life: even in peace mow one post, now another, is
assigned to him. To fight for the fatherland near or far
he must always keep himself ready to move, and not only
for immediate safety, but also for the purposes of people
and rulers, he wends bis-way to. all parts of the world,
and to settle in {his place or that is zranted only to a few.
Now, whilst courage always stands cut as the first quality
in the soldier, yet it is always supposed to be combined
with fidelity, on which account we see certain nations,
renowned for their trustworthiness, galled away from
their native lands to serve as body-guards for secular and
spiritual princes.

“ One more class, exceedingly migratory, and indispens-
able to the state, we see in those functionaries who, sent
from court to court, encompass ministers and princes, and

 
Crap. IX.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 365

enweave the whole habitable globe with invisible threads.
Not one of these, too, is sure of his position and locality
for even one moment only. In time of peace the cleverest
are sent from one part of the world to another ; in war-time,
following the victorious host, making ready the roads for
it when fugitive, they are always prepared to exchange
one place for another, on which account they always carry
. with them a large supply of farewell cards.

“If we have hitherto contrived to do ourselves honour
at every step in claiming the most distinguished bodies of
effective men as our comrades and colleagues in destiny,
yet still, dear friends, there stands before you, as a con-
clusion, the highest honour, in finding yourselves affiliated
with emperors, kings, and princes. First let us remember,
with benedictions, that noble imperial wanderer Hadrian,
who marched on foot at the head of his host through
the civilized world, made subject to him, thereby first
completely taking possession of it. With horror let us
remember the conquerors, those armed wanderers, against
whom no resistance availed, nor wall and bulwark could
protect inoffensive mations. Finally, let us accompany
with honest pity those hapless exiled princes, who, falling
from the summit of greatness, cannot even be received
in the humble guild of effective wanderers.

“Since we have now made all this present and clear
to one another, no petty despondency, no murkiness bred
of passion, will prevail over us. The time is past when
people rushed adventurously into the wide world. Thanks
to scientific travellers writing with wisdom, copying artis-
tically, we are everywhere sufficiently well-instructed to
know tolerably what we have to expect.

«Yet the individual cannot attain to perfect knowledge.
But our associatioa is based on this, that each shall be
instructed in his degree according to his aims. If any
one has a land m mind towards which his wishes are
directed, we try to make known to him in detail what
has floated before his imagination as a whole: to give
ourselves, one/to the other, a survey of the inhabited and
habitable glgbe is the most agreeable, the most profitable
of diversions.
366 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL

«Tn such a sense, then, we can look upon ourselves as
banded in a world-wide association. Simply grand the
idea—easy its realization by reason and strength. Unity
is all-powerful; no division, therefore, no strife amongst
us. So far as we have principles, they are common to
all of us. Let man, we say, learn to think of himself as
being without any enduring external relation; let him
seek for consistency not in his surroundings but in him-
self: there he will find it; cherish and foster it with
love; he will form and educate himself so as to be
everywhere at home. He who devotes himself to what
is most necessary, goes everywhere most surely to his
goal. Others, on the contrary, seeking what is higher,
more subtle, have, even in the choice of their road, to
be more circumspect.

«Yet, whatever man lays hold of and deals with, the
individual is not enough. Society remains the highest
need of any honest man. All useful people ought to stand
in relation to each other, as the builder has to look after
the architects, and they after masons and carpenters. And
thus it is known to all, how and in what manner our asso-
ciation has been fixed and founded. We see no one
amongst us who could not, according to his aims, use his
effective faculty at any moment; who does not feel
assured that everywhere, where chance, inclination, even
passion might lead him, he would find himself well recom-
mended, received, and aided on his way, nay, even as far
as possible indemnified for accidents.

“Two obligations, moreover, we have most strictly
taken upon us: to hold in honowr every form of the
worship of God; for they are all more or less comprised
in the Creed ; secondly, to allow all forms of government
equally to hold good, since they all demand and promote
a systematic activity—to employ ourse.ves in each, where-
ever and however long it may be, according to its will
and pleasure. In conclusion, we hold it a duty to practise
good morals, without pedantry and stringency; even as
reverence for ourselves demands, which springs from the
three reverences which we profess; all of us having the
good fortune, some from youth up, to be initiated in this

 
Caar. IX] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 367

higher universal wisdom. All this have we, in the
solemn hour of parting, once more brought to mind,
explained, heard, and acknowledged, and will also seal
with a trusting Farewell.

«Stay not fettered in inaction—
Venture briskly, briskly roam !
Head and arm, in glad connexion,
Everywhere will be at home.
Where beneath the sun we revel
Care with us will ne’er abide;

Space there is for all to travel,
Therefore is the world so wide.”
368 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS, [Book IIL

CHAPTER X.

During the concluding song a large part of those present
arose quickly, and amid the far-resounding din marched
in order two by two out of the hall. Lenardo sitting
down, asked the guest whether he intended publicly to
bring forward his business here, or wished for a special
sitting. The stranger stood up, bowed to the company,
and began the following speech :—

“Tt is here especially, in such an assembly, that I wish
first to explain myself without further delay. They who
have quietly remained here, by their aspect all true men,
have already given evidence by such lingering of a plain
wish and intention of continuing, for the future, to belong
to their native land and soil. I greet them all with friend-
ship, for I venture to affirm that I am in a position to
offer them, one and all, as they now present themselves,
an adequate daily task for several years. I would desire,
however, but only after a brief interval, one more
meeting, since it is before all things necessary to reveal
my business confidentially to the worthy principals who
have hitherto kept these honest people together, and to
convince them of the genuineness of my mission. More-
over, it will be fitting that I shou'd speak individually
with those who have remained, that 1 may know with
what efforts they propose to respond to my handsome
offers.”

Hereupon Lenardo demanded an adjournment, to pro-
vide for the most needful business of the moment, and
when this was settled, the whole mass of those who were
left stood up in an orderly manner, and left the hall, also
two by two, with a moderate sort of social glee.

Odoard then imparted to the two leaders, who stayed

 
Onar. X.] DON'T GO TOO FAR! 369

behind, his designs and proposals, and got his authority
made valid. But now, in further conversation with such
distinguished men, he could not give an account of the
affair without referring to the human foundation upon
which the whole veritably rests. Mutual explanations
and confessions of deep matters of the heart were disclosed
therefrom in the prolonged conversation. They remained
together till deep into the night, and involved themselves
more and more inextricably in the labyrinth of human
¢heories and destinies. Thus then Odoard found himself
led to give a fragmentary account of the conditions of his
mind and heart; whereby only an imperfect and unsatis-
factory knowledge of this conversation has actually come
to us. Yet we must thank, too, Friedrich’s happy talent
of seizing and retaining the presentment of various scenes,
as well as some explanation of the career of a remarkable
man, which begins to interest us, even though it were
only indications of what, perhaps, in the sequel must be
told more explicitly and in a connected way.

Dox’T G0 TOO FAR!

Ten o'clock at night struck, and accordingly everything
was ready at the appointed hour; in the flower-bedecked
room an ample and neat table laid for four people, with
its dessert and confectionery disposed amidst twinkling
lights and flowers. How delighted the children were at
this desert |—for they were to come in for it. Meanwhile
they were prowling about in their finery and masks; and
as children cannot be disfigured, they looked like the
prettiest of twin-genii. The father called them to him,
and with little help they repeated the festal verses com-
posed for their mother’s birthday very cleverly.

Time wore on: from quarter to quarter the good old
lady forbore not to increase her friend’s impatience. Some
of the lamps, she said, on the stairs were on the point of
going out; favourite dishes of the féted one would be
over-done, it was to be feared. The children were just
beginning to be naughty from weariness, and they would
get unbearable with impatience. The father composed

2B
370 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

himself, and yet his wonted composure would not remain
at call: he listened anxiously to the carriages; several
rattled by without stopping; a certain ill-humour was
about to arise. To pass the time he bade the children once
more repeat their verses. They, in their ill-temper, in-
attentive, absent, and careless, said it badly, their gesti-
culation was no longer correct, they over-did it, like
actors, without feeling. The good man’s annoyance in-
creased every moment; it was more than half-past ten.
We leave it to himself to describe the rest. :

« The clock struck eleven ; my impatience was increased
to desperation; I no longer hoped, I feared. I was now
afraid that she might come in, make her passing excuses
with her usual airy grace, declare that she was very tired,
and behave as if she were reproaching me for diminishing
her pleasure. Within me everything was in a whirl, and
much, very much, that I had put up with for years returned
and weighed upon my mind. I began to hate her; I could
devise no demeanour wherewith to meet her. The good
children, dressed out like little angels, were sleeping peace-
fully upon the sofa. The ground burnt under my feet, I
could not realise nor collect myself, and nothing: remained
for me but to retreat until the ensuing minutes were only
got over. I ran, lightly and festally clad as I was, to the
house-door. I know not what sort of excuse I stammered
out to the good old woman. She made me put on an
overcoat, and I found myself in the street in a state of
mind which I had not experienced for years back. Like
the veriest passionate youth, who knows not what to do
with himself, I raced up and down the streets. I should
have reached the open country, but a cold damp wind
blew keenly and repellently enough to put some bounds
to my rage.”

We have usurped, as is strikingly noticeable in this scene,
the privileges of the epic poet, and have carried the
well-disposed reader only too quickly into the midst of
passionate representation. We see an important man in
domestic confusion, without our having learnt anything
further from him. On this account, therefore, in order to
clear up the situation only in some degree, we join com-
pany with the good old woman; listening to what, at all

Maat hein eine
Cuar. X.] DON’T GO TOO FAR! 871

events, in her distress and confusion, she may quietly
mutter, or complain of aloud to herself.

“I have expected this a long time, I said it would be
so: I have not spared my good lady ; I have often warned
her, but it is too much for her. If the master tires
himself out at the office in town with business, in the
country in the evening he finds an empty house, or
company which does not suit him. He cannot help it.
If she does not continually see people, men, round about
her, if she does not drive about hither and thither, and
cannot dress and re-dress herself, it is like being with-
out air to breathe. To-day, on her birthday, she sets out
early for a drive into the country; good. Meanwhile we
arrange everything here : she solemnly promises to be at
home at nine o'clock. We are ready: the master hears
the children a pretty poem they have learnt by heart ;
they are dressed up; lamps and candles; boiled and roast,
not a thing wanting—but she does not come. The master
has a great control over himself, he hides his impatience ;
it bursts forth. He leaves the house, late as it is; why
is plain, but where to? I have often threatened her
honestly and sincerely with rivals. So far I have seen
nothing on the master’s part. A fair one has long had
her eye on him, and put herself to trouble about him.
Who knows what struggles he has had hitherto? Now
it breaks out; at last despair at seeing his good in-
~ tentions unrecognized drives him out of the house at
~ night-time. So I give up all for lost. More than once
have I said to her she ought not to carry it too far!”

Now let us find out our friend again and hear himself.

«In the most respectable inn I saw lights downstairs,
and, knocking at the window, I asked the waiter who
looked out, in my usual voice, whether some strangers
~ had not arrived or sent word. He had already opened
~ the door, and saying No to both questions he asked me
to come in. I found that it suited my situation, and to
continue the adventure I asked him for a room, which he
at once gave me on the second storey. The first he
supposed should be kept for the expected guests. He
hurried away to make some arrangements. I made no
objection, and pledged myself for the reckoning. Thus

2382
372 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

much was done; but I relapsed into my low-spirits, re-
called each and everything to my mind, waxed wrathful,
and relented, blamed myself, and tried to compose and
pacify myself. To-morrow morning at any rate I would

let everything be reinstated ; I already pictured to myself

the day, again in its accustomed routine; but then anger
again broke forth uncontrollably: I had never thought
that I could be so unhappy.”

Our readers have certainly already begun to sym-

pathize so far with the worthy man whom we see here
so unexpectedly in passionate emotion about an occur-
rence apparently trifling, as to wish to receive more
detailed information as to his circumstances. We will
turn to account the interval which occurs in this

nocturnal adventure whilst speechless and angry he

continues to pace up and down the room.

We learn to recognize in Odoard the scion of an ancient

house to which for a number of generations the noblest

qualities had been bequeathed. Trained in the military

academy, he had acquired an accomplished manner which,
in conjunction with the most praiseworthy capacities,
gave a special grace to his demeanour. A short service

at court gave him a good insight into the relations of

high personages; and when after this he was attached,
through the favour that he had speedily gained for
himself, to a diplomatic mission, and had an opportunity
of seeing the world and making the acquaintance of
foreign courts, he at once gave most decided evidence
of his clearness of apprehension, and happy powers of
memory for past occurrences, but more particularly of
good disposition in undertakings of every sort. His
facility of expression in many languages, with a frank
but not dictatorial manner, brought him on from one
step to another. He obtained success in every diplo-
matic commission, because he won people’s good-will and
thereby put himself in an advantageous position for
smoothing misunderstandings ; and especially he contrived
to satisfy opposing interests by a just balancing of the
arguments brought forward.

It was the object of the first minister to secure the
services of so distinguished a man; he married him to

 

:
Cuar. X.] DON'T GO TOO FAR! 373

his daughter, a young lady of the most brilliant beauty
and trained in all the higher social virtues. But as in the
current of human happiness there is ever some barrier
opposed which holds it back in one place or another, so
was it also here the case. At the court of the sovereign-
prince was being brought up, as a ward, the Princess
Sophronia, the last scion of her stock. Her fortune and
expectations, though lands and people went back to an
‘uncle, were still considerable enough ; on which account,
to avoid protracted debates, it was proposed to marry her—
though he was doubtless much younger—to the crown-
"prince.

Odoard was suspected of a sentiment for her; it was
found that he had sung her praises in a poem, under the
name of Aurora, with too much feeling : to this was added
an imprudence on her side; for with singular independ-
ence she had met certain rallyings of her companions by
saying defiantly that “she must have no eyes if she was
to be blind to such advantages.” By her marriage now
any such suspicion was hushed up ; but yet it was quietly
cherished by secret adversaries, and again stirred up when
opportunity occurred.

Questions relating to the state and succession, though
people endeavoured to interfere with them as little as
possible, came, however, often under discussion. The prince
no less than his wise counsellors considered it altogether
advantageous to let the matter rest for a time, whilst the
secret adherents of the princess would have liked to see
them settled, and the noble lady thereby placed in greater
freedom, especially since the old king of the adjoining
countries, who was related to and well disposed towards
Sophronia, was still alive, and had shown himself ready on
occasion to exert a fatherly influence.

Odoard came under the suspicion, on the occasion of
a purely formal mission to that court, of having again
brought into activity the affair that it was desired to put
off; the opponents availed themselves of this incident, and
the father-in-law, whom he had convinced of his innocence,
had to bring all his influence to bear in order to obtain
for him a sort of governorship in a distant province. He
found himself happy there. He could bring all his forces
374 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL

into play. There were things needful, useful, good, beau-
tiful and great to be done. He could achieve something
lasting without sacrificing himself; whilst, in such cir-
cumstances as he was in before, a man occupies himself
against his convictions with transient matters and occa-
sionally ruins himself.

Not so did his wife find it: she had her being only in
larger circles, and only followed him later when forced to
do so. He behaved as considerately as possible towards
her, and approved of all substitutes for her former enjoy-
ment ; in summer, country parties in the neighbourhood,
in winter an amateur theatre, balls, and whatever else she
liked to set on foot : nay, he even put up with an admirer,
a stranger who had insinuated himself some time before,
though he was by no means pleased with him, believing,
with his clear insight into men, that he detected a certain
insincerity all through him.

From all that we have said, it may be that in the pre-
sent anxious moment somewhat of gloom and obscurity,
somewhat also that was clear and distinct, passed across
his mind. Enough if, after this confidential explanation,
for which Friedrich’s good memory has furnished the
material, we again turn to him, we find him again pacing
excitedly up and down the room, by gestures and frequent
exclamations giving evidence of an inner struggle.

« With such thoughts I had been walking hastily up and
down the room. The waiter had brought me a bowl of
broth, of which I was much in need; for in my careful
preparations for the benefit of the birthday treat, I had
taken nothing myself, and a luxurious supper was standing
untasted at home. At that moment we heard a posthorn
sounding very pleasantly up the street. ¢There comes
some one from the mountain,” said the waiter. We went
to the window, and by the light of two brilliant carriage-
lamps, saw a four-horsed well-loaded gentleman’s carriage
drive up. The servants jumped from the box. ‘There
they are!’ cried the waiter, and ran to the door. I caught
hold of him tightly to impress upon him that he should
say nothing of my being there, nor betray the: fact that
any orders had been given; he promised, and sprang
away.

 
 

cur. X] DON'T GO TOO FAR! 375

“ Meanwhile I had hesitated to see who had got out,
and a new impatience took possession of me. I thought
that the waiter was delaying too long in bringing me
news. At last I was informed by him that the guests
were ladies : an elderly lady of dignified aspect, a middle-
aged one of incredible beauty, and a ladies’-maid, such as
anyone might wish for.

“¢She began,” he said, ¢ by giving orders, went on with
flattery, and when I did what she liked, fell into a merry
saucy mood, that was very likely the most natural to
her. I very soon noticed,’ he went on, ‘all the general
astonishment at finding me so alert, and the house well
prepared for their arrival, the room lighted, the fire burn-
ing. They made themselves at home; in the saloon they
found a cold supper. I offered some broth, and it seemed
welcome to them.’

«The ladies now sat down to table; the elder one
scarcely ate anything: the dear beauty nothing at all;
the maid, whom they called Lucy, made a good meal, and
meanwhile sang the praises of the inn ; was delighted with
the bright wax-candles, the fine table-linen, the porcelain,
and all the appointments. She had previously warmed
herself at the blazing hearth, and now she asked the waiter
when he came in again, whether they were here always so
well prepared to entertain guests arriving at every hour
of the day and night. The clever young rogue was at
this juncture in the same state as children, who certainly
say nothing about the secret, but cannot hide the fact that
something secret has been entrusted to them. First he
answered ambiguously, then more approximately, and at
last, driven into a corner by the quick-wittedness of the
girl, and by continual talking on one side and the other,
he confessed that there had been a servant, that a gentle-
man had come, had gone away, and come back again ; and
finally it escaped him that the gentleman was actually
up-stairs, and was walking restlessly up and down. The
young lady jumped up; the others did the same. It must
be an old gentleman, they hurriedly assumed; the waiter
assured them that, on the contrary, he was young. Now
they were in doubt again ; he maintained the truth of what
he had said. The confusion, the excitement increased. It
376 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

must be her uncle, said the beauty. It was not his way,
said the elder lady. No one but he could have known
that she would arrive at this hour, replied the other per-
sistently. But the waiter declared again and again it
was a young handsome vigorous man. Lucy swore, on the
other hand, that it must be the uncle; the rogue of a
waiter was not to be trusted : he had contradicted himself
in the last half-hour.

« After all this, the waiter had to go upstairs and
urgently beg the gentleman to be so good as to come
downstairs, and at the same time threaten that the ladies
would come up and thank him themselves.

«¢Tt is an endless muddle, said the waiter, ‘I do not
understand why you hesitate to show yourself; they take
you for an old uncle, whom they passionately long to em-
brace once more. Go down, I beg. Are not these the
people that you expected ? Don’t wantonly despise a most
charming adventure! The young beauty is worth seeing
and hearing; they are most respectable people. Run
down, else they will really forcibly carry you out of the
room.” ”

Passion begets passion ; excited as he was, he longed for
something different, something strange. He went down
in the hope of introducing himself and giving explanations
to the new-comers in a cheerful conversation, of hearing
foreign news and giving himself some distraction: and
yet he felt as if he were going to some already known and
precarious situation. He now stood before the door; the
ladies, who thought that they heard the uncle’s step, ran
out to meet him. He entered. What a meeting! what
a recognition! The beauty gave a cry, and threw herself
round the neck of the elder lady: our friend recognized
them both, he shrank backwards, then he started forwards,
he lay at her feet and touched her hand, which he im-
mediately let go again with the most deferential kiss:
the syllables Au-ro-ra died upon his lips.

If we now take a look at our friend’s house, we find it
in a very strange condition. The good old lady knew not
what to do, or not do: she kept the lamps in the hall and
staircase burning, and had the food taken off the fire—
some of it being irretrievably spoilt. The maid had

]

i

3
Crap. X.] DON’T GO TOO FAR! 377

remained with the sleeping children, and had kept up the
numerous lights in the room as quietly and patiently as
the other had been angrily pacing up and down.

At last the carriage rolled up to the door: the lady got
out and was informed that her husband had been called
~ away some hours before—ascending the stairs she appeared
to take no notice of the festal illumination. The elder
woman now learnt from a servant that an accident had
happened on the way, the carriage having been upset in
a ditch, and all else that had taken place afterwards.

The lady entered the room. “What is this masquerade
about?” she said, pointing to the children.

«Tt would have given you a good deal of pleasure if

ou had come some hours sooner,” said the maiden lady.

The children, aroused from sleep, jumped up, and as
goon as they saw their mother they began their got-off
address. With embarrassment on both sides it went on
for a while, then in the absence of encouragement and
help it began to limp; at last it broke down completely,
and the good children were sent with some caresses to
bed. The lady found herself alone, threw herself upon
the sofa, and burst out into bitter tears.

At this point, however, it becomes necessary to give
some more detailed account of the lady herself and of the
country party which had ended, as it seems, so badly.
Albertina was one of those ladies to whom one would
have had nothing to say téte-d-téte, but whom one is very
glad to meet in a large party. Then they appear as real
adornments of the whole, and as stimulants at every torpid
moment. Their charm is of such a kind, that to express
itself, to be in its element, it requires a certain amount of
space ; its operations demand a larger public, they require
an element that supports them, that compels them to be
charming : towards individuals they scarcely know how to
conduct themselves.

Her friend and admirer gained her favour, and main-
tained himself in it, merely because he was expert at
setting on foot one enjoyment after another, at keeping,
if not a large circle, at any rate a lively one, continually
on the move. In distributing parts, he used to select for
himself the tender fathers, and managed by a respectable
378 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor III. |

and sagacious demeanour to give himself an advantage
over the younger, first, second and third lovers.

Florina, the owner of an important manorial estate in
the neighbourhood, and in winter a resident in town, was
indebted to Odoard, whose economical management had
accidentally though fortunately been of great advantage |
to her property and gave a prospect ultimately of a
largely increased revenue from it. In summer she
visited her estate, and made it the theatre of numerous
agreeable diversions. Birthdays especially were never
neglected, and all sorts of festivities were arranged.

Florina was a lively coquettish creature ; attached as it
seemed to no one, and neither claiming nor desiring any
* attachment. A passionate dancer, she only esteemed men
in so far as they moved in good time. An ever-active
woman of society, she considered the man unendurable
who even but one moment looked down and seemed to
reflect; but in general displaying herself very gracefully
as a lively lover such as are necessary in every play
or opera—whence it happened that between her and
Albertina, who played the dignified parts, no question of
precedence ever arose.

To keep the coming birthday in good company, the
best society from the town and from the country round
about was invited. A dance, begun after breakfast, was
continued after dinner; the gathering was protracted to
great length ; they drove away late, and, overtaken sooner
than they expected by night on a bad road, which was
doubly bad because it was being mended, the coachman mis-
took the way and threw them into a ditch. Our beauty
with Florina and the gentleman friend felt themselves
in a dreadful plight. The latter managed to extricate
himself quickly ; then stooping down over the carriage,
he called, “Florina, where art thou?” Albertina thought
she must be dreaming : he grasped something inside, and
drew forth Florina, who lay on the top, in a swoon. He
attended to her and at last carried her on his strong
arm along the recovered road. Albertina was still wedged
in the carriage. Coachman and servant helped her out,
and supported by the latter she tried to go on. The road
was bad, unsuited for dancing shoes; although held up

 
Cuar. X.] DON'T GO TOO FAR 379

by the boy she stumbled every moment. But within, the
prospect was still wilder and more forlorn: how it came
to pass she neither knew nor understood.

« But when she entered the inn, and in the little room
saw Florina on the bed, with the hostess and Lelio busy
about her, she was certain of her unhappiness. A secret
understanding between the faithless friend and the trea-
cherous companion was all at once made clear with the
speed of lightning. She was forced to see how the latter,
opening her eyes, threw herself on her admirer’s neck
with the joy of newly awaking most tender affection :
how the dark eyes again shone, a fresh colour suddenly
decked with charms the pale cheeks again : she really looked
rejuvenated, charming and most lovely.

Albertina stood there, looking down, lonely and hardly
noticed. The other two recovered and composed them-
selves; but the mischief was done. However, they were
obliged to seat themselves again in the carriage, and
in hell itself antithetic souls—betrayed and betrayers—
could not have been so closely crowded together.
ih

380 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IIL |

CHAPTER XI.

Lexarpo and Odoard also were for some days very busily
occupied, the former in providing the emigrants with every-
thing necessary, the latter in making the acquaintance
of those who remained at home, and in judging of their
capacities, in order to give them adequate information as
to his own aims. In the meantime for Friedrich and our
friend there was left opportunity and leisure for quiet
discourse. Wilhelm got him to describe the plan in
general, and when he had been made sufficiently familiar
with the country and surroundings, and the hope had been
expressed that they should see a large number of inha-
bitants dispersed in a widely extended domain, the con-
versation at last turned, as was natural, upon that which
in point of fact holds men together—namely, religion
and morality. Of this the lively Friedrich was able to
give a sufficient account; and we should perhaps earn
gratitude if we could give the progress of the conversation,
which, by question and answer, objections and corrections,
meandered on in a really commendable way, and with
sundry deviations made its way pleasantly to the special
end in view. In the meantime we must not linger so
long, and we give its results at once rather than be
obliged to let them come to view only little by little in
our readers’ minds. The following was the essence of
what was dealt with :—

That man should accommodate himself to the inevitable,
all religions require : each one in its fashion attempts to
solve this problem. The Christian religion contributes
most pleasingly to this by means of faith, love and hope:
therefrom ensues patience, a sweet feeling of what a
priceless gift existence still is, even though, in place of
Crap. XI.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 381

the desired enjoyment, the most hateful sorrows are laid
upon it. To this religion we firmly hold, but in a pecu-
liar way: we teach our children, from youth upwards,
the great advantages that it has brought us; on the other
hand we ultimately impart knowledge as to its origin and
~ progress; only then does its Founder become dear and
precious to us, and all information that relates to him
becomes holy. In this sense, which perhaps may be
called pedantic, but yet must be recognized as logical, we
endure no Jew amongst us: for how are we to allow him
participation in the highest culture, the fountain-head and
origin of which he denies?

From this our moral theory is entirely apart: it is
purely a matter of deeds, and is comprised in the few
commandments—Moderation in what is arbitary, diligence
in what is necessary. Now, every one in the course of his
life may assist himself of these laconic precepts after his
own fashion, and he has a fruitful text for unlimited
application. ‘

The greatest reverence is impressed on all for Time, as
the highest gift of God and Nature, and the most assiduous
handmaid of existence. Clocks have been multiplied
amongst us, and one and all indicate the quarters with
hand and stroke : and in order to multiply such signals to
the utmost, telegraphs are created in our country which
if they are not deranged give, and truly by a very in-
genious contrivance, the course of the hours by day and
night.

on moral theory, which is also quite practical, aims
mainly at thoughtfulness: and this is furthered in the
highest degree by division of time and attention to every
hour. Something must be done at every moment, and
how could this be effected if attention were not paid to
the work as well as to the time.

Considering that we are only beginning, we lay great
stress upon the family circle. On fathers and mothers of
families we intend to impose great responsibilities: with
us education becomes all the easier, as everyone must
provide men and maids, men-gervants and women-servants
for himself.

Tt is true that certain things must be taught with
382 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IIL |

a certain uniform sameness. To read, write, and reckon

RR

with facility, the Abbé undertakes to teach the masses: |
his method is suggestive of mutual instruction, yet it is |
more intelligent: but, in fact, it all depends on educating

teachers and scholars at the same time.

But there is another form of mutual instruction that T |

will mention : the practice of attack and self-defence. Here
Lothario is in his element. His manceuvres have some
similarity to those of our skirmishers, yet he cannot be
otherwise than original.

Here I remark that in our civil life we have no bells, in
military no drums: in one as in the other the human voice
combined with wind instruments suffices. All this has
for some time existed and still exists ; but its proper appli-
cation is left to the mind that would probably in any
case have originated it.

The first requirement of a state is that of a courageous
magistracy, and in that oursis not to be deficient; we are
all impatient to approach the business, cheerful and con-
vinced that one must begin simply. So we do not think
about justice, but about police. Its fundamental principle
is vigorously expressed. No one shall annoy another.
Whoever makes himself a nuisance is kept apart, until he
understands how a man must conduct himself in order to
be endured. If there is anything lifeless, unreasoning, in
point, this in like manner is put away.

In every district * there are three directors of police,
who change with each other every eight hours, shift-wise
as in mining, which also must never stand still, and one of
our men will especially at night-time be ready. :

They have the right to admonish, to blame, to scold
and to reconcile. If they find it necessary they call to-
gether a larger or smaller number of the confraternity.
If the votes are equal the president does not decide, but
lots are drawn, because we are convinced that when
opinions are directly opposed to each other, it is always a
matter of indifference which will be followed. As for the
majority we have altogether peculiar opinions: we let it
hold good, it is true, in the necessary course of affairs;

* Large provincial districts; Pennsylvania originally consisted of
six such Civisions. ;
 
  
   
  

Cusp. XI.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 383

but in the higher sense we have not much confidence
in it. However I must not expatiate further on this
point.

If you ask about the higher authority that guides
everything, it is never found in one place. It is con-
~ tinually moving about in order to maintain uniformity
_ in the main thing, and in things permissible to grant
~ everyone his will. This is a thing that has already been
~ done once in the course of history : the German Emperors
~ travelled about; and this institution is in the closest con-
~ formity with the idea of free states. We are afraid of a
~ chief-town, although we already see the point in our pos-
~ sessions where the greatest number of people will collect
~ together. But this we keep to ourselves : this will happen

by degrees and will still be soon enough.

These are, in the most general way, the points about’
~ which we are for the most part agreed: yet whenever
~ members come together in larger or smaller numbers they
~ are always talked over again anew. But the main thing

will be, when shall we find ourselves at the place and spot ?
. The new state of things, which is however to last, isin fact

expressed by thelaw. Our penalties are mild, admonition
is allowed to everyone who has a certain age behind him :
only the recognized elders may disapprove and blame, only

a number convened can punish.*

It is noticed that severe laws are very soon blunted, and
little by little become laxer, since Nature always asserts
her rights. We have indulgent laws, so as to be able to
get gradually more severe: our penalties consist first
and foremost of a separation from civil society, milder or
more vigorous, shorter or longer, as found necessary. If
the property of the burgher citizen grows, little by little,

~ something is nipped off here too, less or more as they
deserve, so that they may suffer something from this
point also.

Information on these points is given to all the members
of the association, and in an examination that has been
instituted it has been found that they all make the most
appropriate application of the main points to themselves.
The main thing always is only this, that we retain with

* {.e. A sworn court summoned from the elders,

 

 
384 WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. [Book IIL |

ourselves the advantages of culture, and leave behind its |
disadvantages. Dram-drinking and circulating libraries |
are not allowed with us, but how we demean ourselves
towards bottles and books, I would rather not disclose.

 

pa ed AERA LPR Th ¥ 2

Suchlike things will have to be done, if we are to criti-

cize them.

And in just the same sense the collector and editor of |
these papers keeps back other regulations, which still cir- |
culate among the Society itself, as problems which perhaps |
it is not prudent to attempt at the present time and place; |
and so much the less approval could one anticipate if one |

ventured to mention such things circumstantially,
( 225 )

CHAPTER XII.

THE hour appointed for Odoard’s address had come, and
when all had been assembled, and were waiting quietly,
he began to speak as follows :—

“The important work, in which I have invited this
assembly of trusty men to take a part, is not quite new to
you; for I have already talked with you in a general
way about it. It is clear from my explanations that in
the old world as well as in the new there are spaces which
need better cultivation than has hitherto been bestowed
upon them. In the latter, Nature has spread out vast
and wide expanses, where she reposes untouched and un-
civilised, so that one hardly ventures to attack her or
challenge her to a contest. And yet to the resolute it is
easy to win the waste places from her, bit by bit, and to
make oneself safe of a part-ownership. In the old world
the reverse is the case. Here a part-possession has been
established everywhere already; the title thereto, more
or less, consecrated from time out of mind; and whilst
in the new world the illimitable appears as an insuper-
able obstacle, here the simply limited opposes hindrance
almost more difficult still to be overcome. Nature is to be
constrained by the activity of mankind, by force, or by
persuasion.

«If individual ownership is regarded as sacred by the
whole of society, by the owner himself it is still more
so. Custom, youthful impressions, respect for ancestors,
liking for one’s neighbour, and a hundred other things,
make the owner rigid and disinclined against every
alteration. The older such a state of things is, the more
complicated and subdivided, so much the more difficult
is it to carry out a general plan which, while it took

2c
386 WILHELM MEISTER’'S TRAVELS. [Booz IIL

somewhat from individuals, would be of unlooked-for
advantage to the whole, and even, by reaction and co-
operation, to the individual again.

« For several years I have governed in the name of my
sovereign a province that, being divided from his terri-
tories, has not been turned to as much account as would
be possible. This very exclusion, or seclusion if you will,
has hitherto prevented the establishment of any means
which would have given the inhabitants opportunity of
distributing abroad what they have and of receiving from
abroad what they need.

“1 governed this country with alsolute authority ;
there was much good to be effected, but still always of a
limited sort. Everywhere bars were imposed upon im-
provement, and what was most desirable seemed to be
in another world.

“I had no other obligation but to be economical.
What is easier than that! No less easy is it to put down
abuses, to avail oneself of human capabilities, to help, to
assist those who aspire. All this could be achieved quite
easily with common sense and authority. All this, in a

. measure, effected itself. But the direction in which my
attention, my anxiety, was especially bestowed, was on
the neighbours who, with no similar disposition and with
by no means the same conviction, ruled their lands or
caused them to be ruled.

“I had almost resigned myself, and kept as well as
possible within my own domain, using the traditional

- state of things as well as might be; but I all at once
observed that the age was coming to my assistance.
Younger officials were installed in the neighbourhood ;.
they cherished similar intentions, though animated, it is
true, only with a desire for the general good ; and little
by little they adopted my schemes for a universal com-
bination, all the more readily because it fell to my lot to
make the greater sacrifices, without any of them par-
ticularly noticing that the greater advantage also inclined
to my side.

“So there are now three of us allied in governing
considerable tracts of land ; our princes and ministers are
convinced of the honesty and utility of our plans; for
Cuar. XII.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 381%

certainly more is required to view one’s advantage in the
whole rather than in detail. In the latter, necessity
always indicates to us what to do and what to leave
undone, and thus it is quite enough if we apply this
standard to existing circumstances ; but in the other case
we have to create a future; and even if a penetrating
mind discover a plan for this, how can it hope to find
others concurring in it?

« Nor would the individual succeed in this; time, which
emancipates minds, at the same time gives them a wider
outlook, and in the wider expanse the greater is more
easily recognised, and one of the most powerful obstacles
to human enterprises becomes more easily removed. This
consists, to wit, in the fact that men may perhaps agree
in their objects, but much more rarely in the means
whereby they are to be attained. For the truly great
raises us above ourselves, and shines before us like a star ;
but the choice of means calls us back within ourselves,
and then the individual becomes just as he was, and feels
himself just as isolated as if he had not previously been
in accord as to the whole. :

“Here then we must repeat—the age must help us;
time must take the place of reason, and in a more ex-
panded soul the higher interest must banish the more
sordid one.

“Let this be enough ; and should it be too much for
the moment, I will afterwards recall it to the mind of
every participator. Exact measurements have been taken ;
roads indicated, the positions determined in which inns,
and ultimately perhaps villages, will be met with. For
all sorts of structures opportunity, nay, necessity exists.
First-ratearchitectsand skilled workmen aremaking every-
thing ready : drawings and plans aye prepared. The inten-
tion is to settle large and small questions, and thus with
strict control to lay out to the astonishment of the mother-
country the sums of money lying ready: for we live in
the best hope that a united activity will be developed from
now onwards on all sides. )

“ But the point to which I have to draw the attention
of all participators, since it may perhaps have an influence
upon their decision, is the arrangement, the form in which

%¢2
338 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book III.

we associate all the co-operators, and purpose to create for
them a worthy position amongst themselves and in relation
to the rest of the civic world.

« Ag soon as we enter the indicated territory the various
handicrafts will forthwith be declared to be arts, and
definitely divided and set apart, by the denomination
strict arts, from those that are free. Here, at present, we
can only speak of such occupations as make building
their object; all the men here present, young and old,
rank themselves in this class.

“Let us here recount in order, how they raise the
edifice on high, and step by step make it habitable. First
of all name the stonemasons who work into completeness
the foundation and corner-stone, which with the help of
the masons they settle in the proper place and with the
most exact measurement. Then follow the masons, who
on the rigidly tested foundation make good assurance of
the present and the future. Sooner or later the carpenter
brings his contributions, made ready beforehand, and -so
the intended building gradually mounts on high. We
summon the roofer as soon as possible: inside we require
the joiner, the glazier, the locksmita, and if 1 name the
whitewasher last it is because he can interpose, with his
task, at the most varying season, and give the whole,
inside and outside throughout, a pleasing appearance.
Many coadjutors I do not mention, following only the
principal plan.

The grades of apprentice, craftsman, and master, must
be most strictly observed: also in these there could be
many graduations, but tests could not be too carefully
imposed. Whosoever comes forward knows that he is de-
voting himself to strict art, and that he can look for no
remissible claims from her. A single link breaking in a
long chain spoils the whole: in great undertakings, as in
great dangers, triviality must be banished.

“It is in this very aspect that the strict art must serve
as a pattern to the free, and try to put her to shame. If
we look at these so-called free arts, which yet in point of
fact are only to be so taken and named in a higher sense,
we find that it is utterly indifferent whether they are
pursued well or ill. The worst statue stands on its feet,
Crap. XII.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 389

like the best. a painted figure steps forward briskly
enough on its falsely drawn feet, its misshapen arms hold
powerfully enough: the figures do not stand in the
proper plane, but the ground does not on that account
fall in. With music it is still more striking: the
shrieking fiddle of a village tavern sets the sturdy limbs
astir most potently ; and we have listened to the most
inept church music by which the faithful man has been
edified. But would you wish to reckon poetry also
among the free arts, you would verily see that this one
hardly knows where it ought to find a limit. And yet
every art has its inner laws, the disregard of which, how-
ever, inflicts no harm upon humanity ; on the other hand,
the strict arts can allow themselves no license. The free
artist one can praise, and can find pleasure in his merits,
even if his work on closer inspection will not hold its
own.

“ But if we regard the two, the free as well as the strict
arts, in their most perfect conditions, the latter must
beware of pedantry and prejudice, the former of careless-
ness and bungling. He who has to guide them will call
attention to this. Misapplications and deficiencies will
thereby be avoided.

“I do not repeat (for our whole life will be a repetition
of what has been said )—I make only the following remark:
He who takes to a strict art must devote himself to it for
his whole life. Hitherto they have been called handi-
work, quite appropriately and correctly: the experts
ought to work with the hand, and the hand, if it is to
do it, must be animated by a life of its own; it must be
a nature for itself, having its own thoughts, its own
will, and this cannot be the case in several different
ways.”

After the speaker had concluded with some additional
good words, those present, one and all, arose; and the
operatives, instead of withdrawing, formed an orderly
circle in front of the table of the recognised leaders.
Odoard handed round to all a printed sheet, from which,
with modest liveliness, they sang a cheering song to a
well-known melody :—
390 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

¢ Going, staying: staying, goirg,
Little recks the ready wind ;
Wheresoe’er goed werk is doing
Richest realm he there shall find,
Following thee is little pain,
Whoso hearkens will attain :
Saow us an abiding and!
Speed the Leader! Specu the Bund!

« St-ength and burden thou dost measure,
Weighing each with strictest iruth,
Honour to the old, and leisu e,
Task and helpmate to the youth,
Faith in others, l.elp compelling,
Will upraise a decent dwelling;
Ou good neighbours ’twill dep«nd
Yard and garden to defend.

%W cre upon the trodden road
New-built hostels rest allow,
Where wide acres are bestowed,
Tribute to the stranger's plough,
There a home in common make we.
Hasten, hasten, hence betake ye
To the set:led fatherland:
Speed our Leader! Speed our Band!”
{ 501)

CHAPTER XIII

A PERFECT rest succeeded all the busy movement of the
past day. The three friends remained alone standing
facing one another, and it.was soon obvious that two of
them, Lenardo and Friedrich, were moved by a strange
unrest. Neither of them concealed that they were im-
patient to see themselves hindered from taking their share
in the departure from this place; they were expecting a
messenger, it appeared, and in the meantime nothing sen-
sible or determinate was discussed.

At last the messenger comes, bringing an important
packet, upon which Friedrich at once seizes in order to
open it. Lenardo prevents him, and says, “ Leave it un-
touched ; lay it down on the table in front of us; we will
look at it, think, and guess what it may contain. For our
destiny is nearer to its decision, and if we are not our-
selves masters of it, if it depends upon the understanding,
the feelings of others, whether a yes or no, a thus or thus, is
to be awaited, then it behoves us to stand calmly, to
contain ourselves, to ask ourselves whether we could
endure it—as if it were a so-called judgment of God—
in whatever way we are enjoined to make a captive of
reason.”

“You are not so cool as you wish to appear,” replied
Friedrich, “so remain alone with your secrets, and dispose
of them as you like; in any case they do not affect me.
But meanwhile let me reveal the contents to this old
and tried friend, and explain the ambiguous circumstances
which we have so long concealed from him.”

With these words he carried off our friend with him,
and even on the way exclaimed, “She is found !|—found
long ago! and the question only is, what is to be done
with her.”
392 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

«I have found out that already,” said Wilhelm, ¢ for
friends disclose to each other most clearly, exactly what
they do not mention to each other; the last passage of the
diary, where Lenardo, in the very midst of the mountains,
remembers the letter that I wrote to him, summoned up
in my imagination that good creature in complete com-
munion of soul and feeling; I saw him the very next
morning approach her, recognise her, and all else that
would ensue. But then I will frankly confess that no
curiosity, but honest sympathy, which I have devoted
to her, disquieted me on account of your silence and
reserve.”

“ And chiefly from this point of view,” cried Friedrich,
“you have a joint-interest in this very packet that has
arrived. The continuation of the diary was sent to
Makaria, and we did not wish to spoil for you, by an
account of it, the seriously gratifying incident. Now you
shall have it, and at once. Lenardo, in the meantime,
has surely opened it, and he does not need it for his
enlightenment.”

Friedrich hereupon rushed away, after his old fashion,
rushed in again, bringing with him the promised book.

“ But now I must also find out what is to become of us.”

Hereupon he was off again, and Wilhelm read—

LENARDO’S DIARY —continued.

As there must needs be no diary to-day, in order to
reach Frau Susanna’s early, I breakfasted hurriedly with
the whole family, returned thanks, with private good
wishes, and left with the loomfitter, who remained behind,
the presents intended for the young women, somewhat
richer and more bridal-like than those of the day before
yesterday, handing them over secretly to him, at which
the good man seemed to be highly delighted.

This time the road was soon got over: after a few
hours we saw, in a peaceful, not too broad and level valley,
one rocky side of which was lightly washed by the waves
of a most limpid lake in which it was reflected, some
respectable well-built houses, round about which a better
Crap. XIII.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 893

and carefully tended plot of soil, with a sunny aspect, was
favourable to a certain amount of gardening. On being
conducted by the yarn-man to the principal house, and
introduced to Frau Susanna, I had a quite peculiar feeling,
as she spoke to us in a friendly fashion, and assured us
that she was very glad that we came on Friday, the
quietest day in the week, for on Thursday evening the
goods that were ready were taken to the lake, and to the
town. To the yarn-man, who interposed, saying, “I sup-
pose Daniel always takes them down,” she replied, “To
be sure; he looks after the business as well and faithfully
as if it were his own.”

« However, there is no such great difference either,”
answered the other, and having undertaken some com-
missions from the friendly hostess, he hastened off to
finish his business in the side-valleys, promising to come
back in a few days and fetch me away.

Meanwhile I felt in quite a strange state of mind. At
my first entrance a strange presentiment had come over
me that she was the much-desired one: on a longer in-
spection it was not she again, and could not be, and yet
at a side view or when she turned round, it was she
again: just as in a dream memory and fancy contend
with one another. :

Some spinning-girls who were behindhand with their
work brought it in: the mistress, with the most kindly
warning to be industrious, was bargaining with them,
but in order to entertain her guest, she left the matter to
two girls whom she called Gretchen and Lieschen, and
whom I observed all the more attentively, as I wished to
discover in any case how they answered to the description
of the loomfitter. These two forms led me quite astray, and
destroyed all likeness between the object of my search
and the housewife.

But I observed the latter all the more attentively, and in
every way she seemed to me the worthiest, most amiable
being of all that I had seen in my mountain travels. By
this time I was sufficiently well instructed in the trade
to be able to talk to her about the business, which
she understood well, with knowledge : my intuitive sym-
pathy delighted her, and when I asked her whence she
394 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. : [Book III.

got her supply of cotton, the wholesale transport of
which across the mountains I had seen a few days before,
she replied that this very consignment had included a con-
siderable supply for her. The situation of her dwellin
was also on this account fortunate, because the high ro
leading down to the lake ran at a distance of only
about a quarter of an hour lower down her valley,
where she either in person, or through an agent, received
the bales which were consigned and addressed to her
from Trieste ; as had actually been the case the day before
yesterday.

She now allowed her new friend to look into a large
airy cellar, where the supply is stored, in order that the
cotton may not get too dry, lose weight and become less
pliable. Here too I found, for the most part, collected
together what I had already seen in detail. She pointed
out this thing and that, one after another, whilst I showed
an intelligent interest. Meanwhile she became less talka-
tive: by her questions I could guess that I was supposed
to be connected with the trade. For she said that as the
cotton had just arrived she was shortly expecting a clerk
or partner from the Trieste firm, who after a discreet
inspection of her circumstances would take back with
him the sum of money due: that this was lying ready for
any one who could show his credentials.

Somewhat embarrassed, I tried to turn it off, and looked
after her as she just then walked across the room to
arrange something. She seemed to me like Penelope among
the maids. She returns, and I fancy that something has
struck her. =

“Then you are not a business man?” she said; “I
do not know whence the confidence comes, and how I
venture to inquire about your affairs. I certainly do
not wish to be inquisitive, but let me know what your
purpose is.”

Therewith a strange face looked at me with such
familiar, recognising eyes that 1 felt completely penetrated,
and hardly managed to control myself. My knees, my
thoughts, were on the point of failing me, when fortunately
same one called her away very hurriedly. I was able to
recover myself, to confirm my intention, and keep it as
Cup. XIII] WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 395

 

| long as possible to myself. For had a foreboding as if an
| unfortunate connection were again threatening me.
Gretchen, a really amiable child, led me off in order
to show me the artistic fabrics; she did it sensibly and
| quietly. In order to show her my attention, I wrote
| down what she said to me in my pocket-book, where it
still stands in witness of a purely mechanical process;
for I had something quite different in my mind. It runs
as follows :— :
| “The weft of piled as well as of drawn fabric is made,
* accordingly as the pattern requires, with white loosely spun
so-called muggenyarn, at the same time also coloured with
Turkey-red, of the same kind as the blue yarn which
| is also used for stripes and flowers. On being clipped
| the web is wound on cylinders which form a table-shaped
| frame, round which several persons sit and work.”
Lieschen, who has been sitting amongst the clippers,
' stands up, joins us, and is eager to put in her word,
“and in fact in such a way as only to put the other
| one out by contradiction; and, when in spite of her, I
I gave more attention to Gretchen, Lieschen fussed about
to fetch or take something, and in doing so she twice very
distinctly grazed my arm with her soft elbow, without
being forced to do so by the smallness of the room,—
| which did not particularly please me.
The good fair one (she deserves to be so called in a
| general way, but particularly when compared with the
others) took me out into the garden to enjoy the evening
| gun, before it hid itself behind the mountain. A smile
was hovering round her lips, as is often seen when one
is hesitating to say something amusing ; and in this hesi-
tation I, too, seemed to feel a pleasure. We were walking
side by side. I did not venture to give her my hand, glad
as I would have been to do so. We both of us seemed
"to dread words and gestures through which the happy
~ discovery might too soon become mutually evident. She
' showed me some flower-clusters, in which I at once recog-
~ nised budding cotton-plants :—

«This is how we rear and foster the seeds that in our
. occupation are useless, not to say objectionable, and which
come to us from such a long distance with the cotton.

 

 
396 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boos IIL. ©

It is an act of gratitude, and there is a singular pleasure i
in seeing the living form whose lifeless remains animate

our being. Here you see the beginning—the middle you
know,—and this evening, if fortune favours, you shall see
a joyful conclusion.

“We, the actual manufacturers, or an agent, on Thurs-
day evening take the goods which have come in during
the week to the market-boat, and thus, in company with
others who pursue the same trade, we arrive at the ear-
liest hour on Friday morning at the town. Here every
one takes his goods to the merchants who deal in whole-

sale and try to dispose of them as well as possible, and |

perhaps also take ultimately, instead of payment, as much
raw wool as is needed.

“But not only do the market-people in the town take |

away as much raw material as they require for manu-
facture, together with the profit in cash—they also provide
themsclves with many other things for their needs or
enjoyment. Wherever one out of the family has gone
marketing to the town, there expectations, hopes, wishes,

{

nay, often even anxiety and fear, are rife. Storm or |
thunder may come on, and there is anxiety lest the |

boat should come to harm! Those who are eager
for profit loiter about, and long to hear how the sale
of the goods has turned out, and already reckon in ad-
vance the amount of clear profit. The inquisitive wait
for news from the town; those fond of dress look for
articles of dress or fashions, which the traveller was com-
missioned to bring back with him ; and lastly, the sweet-
toothed, and especially the ehildren, look for the eatables,
even if they should be only seed-cakes.

“ The departure from the town is generally delayed

until towards evening; then the lake becomes all alive, |

and the boats, sailing or propelled by the strength of the

rowers, glide across its surface. Everything is eager to -
outstrip the rest, and those who are successful jokingly

banter those whom they see forced to lag behind.
«It is a joyous and pretty spectacle at the embarkation
on the lake, when its surface, with the surrounding

mountains illuminated by the evening glow, is warmly

RAS

and more and more deeply shaded, when the stars become

 
Crap. XIII.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 397

visible, the curfew bells are to be heard, candles are
lighted ir the villages on the bank, shining again in the
water ; then the moon rises, and scatters its light over
the nigh motionless surface; the rich landscape flies
by, village after village, homestead after homestead,
are left behind. Arriving at last in the neighbour-
hood of home a horn is blown, and lights are imme-
diately seen shining here and there in the mountain,
and moving down towards the shore. Every household
that has a relative in the boat sends some one to help to
carry the parcel. We are situated higher up; but every
one of us has often enough taken part in this excursion,
and so far as business is concerned we are all similarly
interested.”

I had listened to her with astonishment to hear how
well and beautifully she told it all, and could not refrain
from remarking aloud : How could she, in this wild district
with so mechanical an occupation, have attained to so
much culture. :

She answered, looking down with a most amiable,
almost roguish smile, “I was born in a fairer and more
kindly neighbourhood, where clever men rule and dwell,
and although as a child I was wild and unruly, yet the
influence of highly gifted landowners in their surround-
ings was unmistakable ; the greatest effect, however, upon
a youthful being was due to a pious bringing up, which
developed in me a certain sense of the just and proper, as
derived from the omnipresence of divine love.

“We emigrated,” she continued—and the pretty smile
forsook her lips; a suppressed tear filled her eye—* we
wandered far, far, from one neighbourhood to another,
guided by religious indications and recommendations: at
last we came hither to this most active region. The house
in which you find me was occupied by people of like
mind ; they received as with confidence: my father spoke
the same language in the same sense: we soon seemed to
belong to the family.

«Tn all the business of the house and handicraft I took
a vigorous part: and all of which you now see me the
manager, I gradually learnt, practised, and became pro-
ficient in. The son of the house, a few years my elder, well-
 

398 . WILHELM MEISTER’'S TRAVELS. [Book LY

made and handsome in face, fell in love with me, and
made me his confidential friend. He was of a strong g
and at the same time refined nature; piety as it was 2
practised in the house found no acceptance with him:
it did not satisfy him. He secretly read books which
he managed to buy for himself in the town, of the sort
which impart a more general, a freer tenour to the mind, ]
and when he observed in me a similar tendency and §
a similar disposition, he took pains gradually to impart 3
to me that which so earnestly occupied him. At last, |
when I entered into it all, he no longer abstajned from }
disclosing to me his whole secret. And we really were g
a thoroughly wonderful couple, conversing in our lonely
walks only on such principles as make people independent, |
whilst our actual terms of attachment seemed to consist
only in mutually confirming one another in ideas of |
the kind by which people generally become completely |
alienated from each other.”

Although I did not look closely at her, but only
glanced up from time to time as if by accident, yet I
observed with astonishment and sympathy that her features
immediately and entirely expressed the sense of her words.
After a momentary silence her face brightened.

“TI must make a confession,” she said, “ with regard to
your principal question, in order that you may be better
able to account for my readiness of speech, which may
often seem not quite natural. :

« Unfortunately we were obliged to dissemblg before the
others, and although were closely on our guard against
lying, and being deceitful in the vulgar sense, yet we
actually were so in a more refined sense, inasmuch as we
could not find any excuse for not attending the well-
frequented meetings of brethren and sisters. But while
we were forced to hear there a good deal against our
convictions, still he soon made me see and understand that
it did not all come freely from the heart, but that a good
deal of verbiage, images, comparisons, traditional forms of
speech, and a repetition of similar lines, were for ever re-
volving round as if on a general axis. I now paid better
attention, and picked up the langnage so closely, that I
could have delivered a sermon as well, at any rate, as any
Cuar. XIII.) WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 399

. superintendent. At first the good man was delighted at
this: at last he grew impatient from satiety, so that to
pacify him I adopted the opposite course, listened to him
all the more attentively, and was able a week afterwards
to repeat to him his cordially true sermon, with at least
approximating freedom, and no very dissimilar spiritual
character.

“Thus our connexion grew into the most intimate bond,
and a passion for any recognisable form of truth and
goodness, as well as any practicable exercise of the same,
was what actually united us.

«In thinking what it was that occasioned you to ask me
for such a narrative as this, I recollect it was my lively
description of a happily spent market-day. Do not wonder
at this ; for indeed it was a joyous, heartfelt contemplation
of charming and sublime natural scenery that gave me
and my bridegroom in peaceful and unoccupied hours our
most charming converse. Excellent national poets had
awakened and fostered the feeling in us. Haller’s < Alps,’
Gesner’s ‘Idylls, Kleist's ¢ Spring,” were often repeated
by us, and we regarded the world that surrounded us,
sometimes from its graceful, sometimes from its elevated
side.

« I -gtill like to remember how we two, keen and far-
sighted, tried to vie,and often hastily, in making each other
observe the phenomena in the earth and sky, endeavour-
ing to surpass and overbid each other. This was the
finest recreation, not only from the daily task, but also
from those serious conversations which often plunged us
only too deeply within ourselves, and threatened in that
respect to disturb our peace.

« About this time a traveller, probably under a fictitious
name, called at our house. We don’t intrude further on
him, since his character at once inspires our confidence ;
he behaves in everything with the greatest propriety, and
is becomingly attentive in our assemblies. On being con-
ducted about the mountain-side by my friend, he proved
himself serious, observant and full of knowledge. I, too,
take part in their moral discussions, in which everything
that can be important to a thoughtful man comes by
degrees under debate. Here he very soon remarks some-
400 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

thing uncertain in our mode of thought in reference to
things divine. Religious expressions had become trite to
us: the kernel which they should have contained had !
escaped us. So he made us observe the danger of our
position, how precarious must be our divergence from the
tradition with which, from our youth up, so much had
been associated : it was in the highest degree dangerous,
particularly in the state of imperfection of our own minds.
It was true that religion, practised every day and every
hour, at last became only a pastime and acted as a sort of
olice upon the outward demeanour, but no longer on the
depths of the understanding : the only remedy for that was |
to call forth from our own hearts thoughts equally valid, |
equally effective, and equally soothing in a moral sense. |

“Qur parents had silently anticipated our union, and
I know not how it was, but the presence of our new |
friend hastened the betrothal. It seemed to be his wish
to celebrate this confirmation of our happiness in our
quiet circle, and then too he must needs hear how the
superintendent took the opportunity of reminding us
of the Bishop of Laodicea,* and of the great danger
of lukewarmness which they thought that they had
observed in us. We spoke of these subjects yet a few
times; and he left behind for us a paper relating thereto,
which I afterwards often had reason to look at again.

«“ He then left us, and it seemed as if every good spirit
had gone away with him. It is not a new remark how
the appearance of a great man in any circle makes an
epoch, and on his departure there appears a gap in which
a casual misfortune will often penetrate. And now let me
cast a veil over what followed : through an accident the |
precious life of my betrothed, his noble form, was sud-
denly destroyed. He steadfastly devoted his last hours to |
seeing himself joined to me, inconsolable as I was, and
securing me in the right to his inheritance. But what -
made this blow still more painful to the parents was that |
shortly before they had lost a daughter, and thus saw
themselves in a most special sense bereaved; whereby |
their tender souls were so stricken that their lives were |
not long spared. They soon followed their dear ones;

* Revelation iii. 14 seq.

 
Crap. XIII.) WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 401

and yet another misfortune overtook me; for my father,
struck with apoplexy, has still preserved, it is true, his
bodily consciousness of the world, but neither spiritual
nor physical activity in it. And thus I really had need of
that self-dependence in the greatest stress and isolation,
in which I had formerly practised myself when looking
forward to a happy union and pleasant companionship in
life, and in which but shortly before I had singularly
confimred myself by help of the pure, encouraging pre-
cepts of the mysterious traveller.

“Yet I ought not to be ungrateful, since in these
circumstances I have still a trusty helper left, who as
my agent looks after everything that in such businesses
seems to fall to the lot of manly activity. If he comes
back from the town this evening and you have been
able to make his acquaintance, you will see my wonderful
dependence upon him.”

I had said a good deal in the meantime, and by ap-
proving and confidential sympathy tried to open out her
heart more and more, and keep up the flow of her speech.
I did not avoid touching quite closely what as yet had
not been fully outspoken : she too was always drawing
nearer to it, and we had got so far that on the slightest
pretext the open secret would have come forth in words.

She stood up and said, “Let us go to my father.” She
hastened on, and I followed slowly. I shook my head
over the strange situation in which I found myself. She
~ showed me into a very neat back room, where the good

old man sat motionless in the arm-chair. He was little
altered. I went up to him: he at first looked at me with
a rigid stare, then with more animated eyes; his features
grew bright, he tried to move his lips, and when I
stretched out my hand to take his as it lay, he grasped
mine of his own accord, pressed it, and jumped to his
feet, stretching out his arms towards me. * 0 God!” he
exclaimed, “Squire Lenardo! it is he, it is he him-
self!”

I could not refrain from pressing him to my heart;
he sank back into the chair, his daughter ran forward
to help him; she too exclaimed, “It is he! It is you,
Lenardo ! ” 5

D
402 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

The younger niece had come in; they led the father,
who all at once was able to walk again, to his bedroom,
and turning towards me he said quite distinctly, “ How
happy! happy! we shall meet again soon!”

1 stood still, looking straight before me and thinking;
Mariechen came back, and handed me a paper with the
information that it was the one referred to. I at once re-
eognised Wilhelm’s hand, even as before his person had
occurred to me from the description. Many strange faces
crowded round about me ; there was a peculiar excitement
in the entrance. And what a repelling sensation it is,
from the enthusiasm of a genuine recognition, from the
assurance of a grateful recollection, the appreciation of a
wonderful event in life, and whatever else ardent and
beautiful that may arise in us therewith—to be brought
back all at once to the uncouth reality of a distracted
every-day dulness. :

This time Friday evening was not so generally cheerful
and merry as it otherwise might have been. The agent
had not returned from the town in the market-boat. He
would come by another opportunity, and bring with him
all that had been ordered and promised. The neigh-
bours, young and old, who as usual had gathered together
in expectation, pulled long faces: Lieschen especially,
who had gone to meet him, seemed in a very bad
humonr.

I had taken refuge in my room, keeping the papers in
my hand without looking into them: for it had already
given me some private vexation to find from her narrative
that Wilhelm had accelerated the betrothal. «Thus are
all friends, they are all diplomatists : instead of responding
honestly to our confidence, they pursue their own plans,
thwart our wishes, and lead our destiny astray!” Thus
I exclaimed : however, I soon recovered from my injustice,
allowed that my friend was right, especially in view of
the present situation, and no longer forbore to read what
follows.

« Every human being, from the earliest moment of his
life, is first unconscious, then half-conscious, and at last
wholly so: he finds himself for ever controlled, limited in
Crap. XIII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 403

his position; but as no one knows the end and aim of his
existence, or- rather, as its secret is withheld by the
~ hand of the Most High, he therefore only gropes about,
grasps at, leaves hold, stands still, moves, lingers and
worries, and so on in so manifold ways, as all the errors
which confuse us arise.

«Even the wisest is compelled in daily life to be wise for
the moment, and by that means attains no enlighten-
‘ment in the universal. Seldom does he know for certain
whither he has to turn in the future, and what he really
has to do and to leave undone.

« Happily all these, and yet a hundred other wondrous
questions are answered by your incessantly active course of
life. Persevere in direct observance of the day’s duty,
and thereby test the purity of your heart, and the safety of
your soul. If thus in unoccupied hours you aspire, and find
opportunity to elevate yourself, you will so gain a right
attitude towards the sublime, to which we must in every
way reverently surrender ourselves, regard every occur-
rence with veneration, and acknowledge therein a higher
guidance.”

Saturday, 20th.

Absorbed in thoughts in whose wondrous mazes a feel-
ing soul will gladly accompany me with sympathy, I had
with daybreak walked to and from the lake. The house-
wife (I was glad to be unable to think of her as a widow)
showed herself just when she was wanted, first at the
window, then at the door: she told me that her father
had slept well, had woke up in good spirits, and had
declared in distinct worl that he desired to remain in
bed, and to see me, not to-day, but to-morrow after
service, when he would certainly feel well strengthened.
She then said to me that to-day she intended to leave me
a good deal alone: for her it was a very busy day; she
came downstairs and gave me an account of it.

1 listened to her, only for the sake of hearing her; at
the same time I satisfied myself that she seemed to be
thoroughly penetrated by the business, invested with it,
as traditional duty, and was busy by her own consent.

She continued: “It is usual and understood that the

2p 2
404 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

web be ready towards the end of the week, and on Satur-
day afternoon be taken to the contractor, who looks
through it, measures and weighs it, in order to ascertain
that the work is properly done and free from blemish, and
whether the proper amount in weight and measure has
been delivered to him; and if all is found to be correct,
he then pays the wages agreed upon. He is careful, on
his own part, to free the woven piece from all manner
of threads and knots that may be attached to it, to lay
it down in the neatest way, keeping the side that is
finest and most free from blemish upwards to the sight,
and thus to make the goods acceptable in the highest
degree.”

In the meantime a number of weaving girls were
coming in from the mountain, bringing their wares to
the house, amongst whom, too, I noticed her who em-
ployed our loomfitter. She thanked me very kindly for
the present I had left behind me, and prettily told me
that the loomfitter was with them, and was working to-
day at their loom, and had assured her as she left that
what he was doing to it would be seen directly by Frau
Susanna in the work. Thereupon she went like the rest
into the house, and I could not refrain from asking the
dear good-wife, “ For Heaven's sake, how did you come by
this extraordinary name ?”

“It is the third,” she said, “that they have imposed
upon me : I willingly assented, for my father- and mother-
in-law wished it. It was the name of their lost daughter,
whose place they wished me to take, and the name is ever
the best and most living substitute for the person.”

To this I answered, “ A fourth has been found already.
I would name you Fair-good-one if it depended on me.”

She made a very pretty humble curtsey, and managed
to combine and set-off her delight at the recovery of her
father with her pleasure at seeing me again, in such a
way that I thought I had never heard and felt anything
more flattering and delightful in all my life.

The Fair-good-one, summoned twice or thrice into the
house, handed me over to a sensible well-informed man,
who was told to show me the curiosities of the mountain.
We went together, under the finest sky, through richly
Cusp. XIII.) WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS, 405

varied tracts. But it may be taken for granted that
neither rock nor wood nor waterfall, still less mills and
smithies, or even families who worked cleverly enough in
‘wood, could gain any attention from me. However, the
excursion was arranged for the whole day : the porter car-
ried a fine breakfast in his knapsack ; at midday we found
a good meal in the counting-house of a mine where no one
could quite make me out; for to active people nothing is
more objectionable than an empty indifference simulating
interest.

But least of all did the guide understand me; the
yarn-man had recommended me to him with great praise
of my fine technical knowledge and special interest in
such things. That good man had also told him of my
copious writing down and noting, for which his fellow-
mountaineer had likewise prepared himself. My guide
waited a long time for me to pull out my note-book, which
“at last he somewhat impatiently inquired after.

Sunday, 21st.

Midday had almost come before I could see my dear
friend again. The family service, at which she did not
want me to be present, was held in the meantime;
the father had taken part in it, and uttering words most
edifying, distinctly and intelligently, he had moved her
and ‘all who were present to the most heartfelt tears.

“ They were,” she said, “familiar proverbs, rhymes,
expressions and turns that I had heard a hundred times
and been vexed at as hollow sounds: but now they
flowed forth so heartily molten together, quietly glowing,
and free from slag, just as we see the molten metal flow
out into the mould. I was afraid and anxious that he
would exhaust himself in these outpourings: however, he
let himself be taken quite cheerfully to bed: he wished
quietly to collect himself, and to have the guest sum-
‘moned to him as soon as he felt strong enough.”

After dinner our talk became more animated and con-
fidential : but for this very reason I could the better feel
and perceive that she was keeping something back, that
she was struggling with disquieting thoughts, so that she
406 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

did not quite succeed in brightening up her face. After I
had tried one way and another to get her to speak out, I
frankly said that I fancied I saw in her a certain dulness,
an expression of anxiety : whether they were domestic or
business troubles, she ought to confide in me. I was rich
enough to pay her an old debt in any way.

She denied, with a smile, that this was the case. “1
thought,” she continued, “when you first came, that yom
were one of the firm who give me credit in Trieste, and I
was well pleased that I had my money ready at hand,
whether they wanted the whole sum or a part of it.
What troubles me is, nevertheless, a business anxiety,
unfortunately not for the moment, no! for the whole
future. The machinery that is getting the mpper-hand
frightens me and makes me anxious: it comes rolling on
like a thunderstorm, slowly, slowly, but it has taken its
direction ; it will come, and strike. My husband was
penetrated even by this melancholy conviction. . People
think about it, talk of it, and neither thinking nor talking
can be of any use; and who would like to realise such
horrors! Only think that there are many valleys wind-
ing through the mountain, like that through which you
came down ; that comely joyous life still flits before you,
as you have seen it there during these past days, whereof
the gaily dressed crowd thronging from all directions
yesterday gave the happiest evidence; bethink you, how
this will little by little collapse, die out, and the desert
animated and peopled for centuries will again fall back
into its primeval solitude.

“ There remain only two roads to choose from; one
as sad as the other—either to take to the new state of
things oneself and hasten on ruin, or to break up, take
the best and worthiest along with ‘us, and seek a better
destiny beyond the sea. One as well as the other has its
dangers, but who is there to help us to weigh the reasons
which should decide us? I know very well that people
are going about in the neighbourhood with the idea of
setting up machines, and taking the bread out of the
mouths of the common people. I cannot blame any one
for thinking of himself first. But I should think myself
despicable if I were to plunder these poor people, and see
Cuip. XIII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 407

them go away at last poor and helpless; and go away they
must, sooner or later. They forbode it, they know it, they
say it, and no one decides to take any saving step. And
yet where is the resolution to come from? is it not as
difficult to every one as to me?

“ My betrothed had made up his mind to emigrate with
me: he often communed with himself about the means
and ways of getting himself free from here. He looked
about for the better men, whom one could gather round
oneself, with whom one could make common cause ; whom
one could draw to one and take away with one; we
longed, with: perhaps too youthful hopefulness, for lands
where that might count for duty and right that here
would be a crime. Now the case is just the opposite. The
honest helper, who remained to me after my husband’s
death, excellent in every sense, attached to me by friend-
ship and love, is of a quite contrary opinion.

«1 must speak of him before you have seen him: I
would rather have done it afterwards, because personal
presence clears up many a riddle. About the same age as
my husband, he attached himself as a poor little boy to
his well-to-do, kindly-disposed playmate; to the family,
the house, and the business. They grew up together, and
held together, and the pair were of quite different natures:
the one frank and communicative, the other oppressed in
early youth, reserved, holding firmly to the least acquired
possession, of pious disposition it is true, but thinking more
of himself than of others.

« I know very well that from the first he had turned his
eyes towards me (he might well do so, for I was poorer
than he), yet he kept himself in the background as soon
as he noticed his friend’s attachment to me. By steady
industry, energy, and trustworthiness, he soon made himself
a partner in the business. My husband secretly entertained
the thought of settling him here when we emigrated, and
entrusting him with everthing that was left. Soon after
our excellent one’s death he approached me, and before
. long he did not conceal the fact that he was a suitor for
my hand. But now came the doubly wonderful circum-
stance that he steadfastly declared himself against emigra-
tion, and, on the contrary, eagerly urged that we should
408 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

even set up machines. His reasons are certainly cogent,
for on our mountain there lives a man, who, if he liked to
abandon our simpler appliances, and construct more com-
plicated ones for himself, could easily bring us to ruin.
This—in his own department a very skilful man (we call
him the loomfitter)—is a dependent of a well-to-do family
in the neighbourhood, and one might well believe that he
intended to make use of this rising discovery for the
benefit of himself and his patrons. There is nothing to
be said against my assistant’s arguments, for too much
time has in a way been already wasted, and if they get
the start, we must, even at a loss, take the same course.
This is what frightens me and makes me anxious; it is
this, my dearest friend, that makes you seem to me like a
guardian angel.”

I had little that was consoling to say in reply; I must
needs find the case complicated enough to demand time
for me to think over it.

« However,” she continued, “I have still much to dis-
close, which will make my situation seem yet more won-
derful to you. The young man, to whom personally I am
not averse, but who would by no means supply the place
of my husband, nor win my special affection” (she sighed
as she said this), * has lately become decidedly more urgent;
his representations are as amiable as they are sensible.
The necessity of giving him my hand, the imprudence of
thinking of emigration, and thus neglecting the only real
means of self-preservation, are not to be denied; and my
opposition, my whim of emigrating, seems to him to agree
so little with the rest of my disposition to good manage-
ment, that at our last somewhat hasty conversation I
could detect the supposition that my affections must be
placed elsewhere.”

She brought out this last sentence with hesitation, and
looked down before her. What passed through my soul
at these words let any one imagine, and yet as reflexion
followed with the speed of lightning, I could not but feel
that every word would increase the complication ; and yet, -
at once, as 1 stood thus before her, I was most distinctly
conscious that | had got to love her most profoundly, and
I had to employ all that was left me of rational intel-
Cuap. XIII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 409

ligent strength to refrain from offering her my hand forth-
with. “Yet she could leave everything behind her,” I
thought, “if she follows me.” However, the sorrows of
past years held me back. ‘Shouldst thou cherish a false
hope, to repent of it your life long?”

We had both stood for some time in silence, when

Lieschen, whom I had not seen enter, surprised us by
coming up and asking permission to spend this even-
ing at the neighbouring forge. It was granted with .
hesitation.
I had in the meantime collected myself, and began to
tell, in a general way, how in my travels I had long seen
all this coming on—how the impulse and necessity for
emigration was growing stronger every day; and yet
this always involved the greatest risk. To hurry away
unprepared brought an unhappy return. No other
undertaking demanded so much foresight and guidance
as this.

This view was not new to her; she had thought a great
deal about all contingencies; but at last she said, with a
deep sigh, “During these days of your stay here I have
been continually hoping to gain comfort by confidential
communication, but I feel in a worse position than before ;
I feel most deeply how unhappy I am.”

She looked up to me, but to hide the tears welling out
of her good and beautiful eyes, turned round and went a
few paces apart.

I will not excuse myself; but the wish to distract at
least, if not to comfort this noble soul, gave me the idea
of speaking to her of the wonderful reunion of several
wanderers and parted friends in which I had had a share
gome time ago. I had unwittingly so far expatiated that
I should scarcely have been able to restrain myself, when
I became aware of how imprudent my confidence might
have been. She calmed herself, wondered, brightened up,
disclosed her whole being, and questioned me with such
fondness and cleverness, that I was no longer able to avoid
confessing everything to her.

Gretchen came in, and said that we might go to her
father. The girl seemed very thoughtful and vexed as
she went out. ¢ Fair-good-one” said to her, “Lieschen
410 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

has leave to go out this evening; you will look after the
business.”

“ You should not have given it,” replied Gretchen, “she
is after no good. You indulge the mischievous thing
more than is right, and trust her more than you ought.
I have just found out that she wrote a letter to him
yesterday evening: she listened to your conversation:
now she is going to meet him.”

A child who had in the meantime remained with the
father, begged me to make haste: the good man was
restless. We went in: cheerful, nay, strangely beautiful
he was, sitting up in bed.

« Children,” said he, “I have spent these hours in
continual prayer; not one of all David's Psalms of thank-
fulness and praise has been passed over by me; and to them
I add from my own mind, with confirmed faith: Where-
fore hopeth man only when near at hand ? Then he must
act, and help himself; from afar should he hope and trust
in God.” :

He grasped Lenardo’s hand, and then the hand of his
daughter, and laying them one in the other he said, « This
must not be an earthly, it must be a heavenly bond : as
brother and sister love, trust, serve and help one another,
as unselfishly as may God help you; ” as he said this he
sank back with a heavenly smile, and was gone home.
The daughter threw herself down by the bed, Lenardo
close by her: their cheeks touched, their tears flowed
together upon his hand.

The assistant at this moment runs in, and is transfixed
at the scene. With a wild look, shaking his black locks,
the handsome young man cries, “ He is dead, at the
moment when 1 was about to appeal urgently to his re-
stored speech to decide my fate and his daughter’s—the
being whom next to God I love the most, for whom I
desired a sound heart, a heart that could feel the worth
of my affection! For me she is lost, she kneels near
another! Has he given you his blessing? Say only that
itis so!”

The noble creature had meanwhile risen to her feet:
Lenardo had got up and recovered himself. She said, “I
recognise you no longer, the gentle, pious, and all at once
 

 

~ Cmar. XIII] WILHELM MEISTER'S TRAVELS. 411

go distracted man : yet do you not know how grateful I
am to you, what I think of you?”

«It is not a question of thanking and thinking,” replied
the other, quieted, “it is a matter of happiness or unhap-
piness for all my life. This strange man troubles me: as
I look at him, I do not trust myself to outweigh him: to
push out former rights, to loosen former ties I cannot
pretend.”

“ As soon as you can come back to yourself,” said my
kind one, more beautiful than ever, “when it is possible
to talk to you as at other times and always, then I will
tell you, will swear to you by the earthly remains of my
glorified father, that I have no other relation to this
gentleman and friend, than you can recognise, approve and
ghare, and for which you must be glad.”

Lenardo quailed to the depths of his heart: they all
three stood for awhile, quite silent and thoughtful. The
young man was the first to break the silence: and said,
“ The moment is one of too great significance to be aught
but decisive. It is not upon the spur of the moment that
I speak. I have had time to think; do you then listen!
Your reason for refusing me your hand was my refusal
to follow you, if from necessity or caprice you were to
emigrate. Here then I solemnly declare before this com-
petent witness that I will place no obstacle in the way of
your departure, rather will I further it, and follow you
everywhere. But in return for this declaration, which
has not been forced from me, but only accelerated by these
strange circumstances, I this moment ask you for your
hand.”

He stretched forth his own, and stood there calm and
confident. The two others, overcome with surprise, shrank
back involuntarily.

«Tt is decreed,” said the youth, with a certain pious
exultation. “Tt is to happen; it is to the interest of us
all : God has willed it! But that you may not think that
it is hastiness and caprice, at least learn that for love of
you I had renounced mountains and rocks, and have even
now been arranging everything, in the town, in order- to
live according to your wishes. But now I go alone; you
will not deny me the means todoso. You would still have
412 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book III

enough left to lose here, as you dread, and as you have
reason to dread. For I have at last convinced myself
also that that skilful, industrious rascal has betaken him-
self to the upper valley, and is there setting up machinery.
You will soon see him drawing to himself all means of
support: perhaps you will call back—only too soon—a
true friend whom you drove away.”

Three people have seldom stood in a more painful
position towards one another: all at the same time in
dread of losing one another, and at the moment ignorant
of how they should reciprocally retain each other.

The youth with passionate determination rushed out ot
the door. The Fair-good-one had laid her hand upon her
father’s chilled breast. ¢From near at hand one must
not hope,” she exclaimed, “but from afar: that was his
last blessing. Let us trust in God: each one in himself
and in the other, and so it will be well |”
{ 213°)

CHAPTER XIV.

Our friend read what was put pefore him with great
interest, but at the same time he must needs confess that
at the end of the preceding portion he had already sus-
pected, nay supposed, that the good creature had been dis-
covered. The description of the rugged mountain-country
had first inspired him with this idea; but he had been
"especially set upon the track by Lenardo’s presentiment
on that moonlight night, as well as by the repetition of
the words of his own letter. Friedrich, to whom he told
all this circumstantially, quite agreed with his view.

But here the duty of communicating, describing, setting
forth and condensing becomes more and more difficult.
Who does not feel that we are now approaching the end,
where the fear of lingering over details, with the wish to
leave nothing incompletely cleared up, places us in a
dilemma. It is true that by the despatch just arrived we
have been enlightened about a good deal; however, the
letters, and the many enclosures, contain various things
which are not of general interest. We have accordingly
resolved to combine what we then knew and found out,
and that too which came to our knowledge later, and with
this intent conclude with confidence the serious task that
we have taken in hand of a faithful referee.

Before all else then we have to announce that Lothario
with Theresa his wife, and Natalia, who did not wish to
be parted from her brother, in company with the Abbé,
were actually already gone to sea. They started
under favourable auspices, and it is to be hoped that a
favourable wind fills their sails. The only unpleasant
sentiment, a real moral grief, that they take with them,
is that they were not able first to pay their visit to
Makaria. The circuit was too great, the undertaking too
414 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boox III.

important. They already had some delay to blame them- }
selves for, and must sacrifice even a pious duty to

necessity.
We, however, on our part as relator and describer, ought

not let these beloved persons, who in times past won so |

much of our affection, depart to so great a distance, with-

out having imparted some more particular information as |
to their intentions and doings hitherto, especially as it is |

so long since we have heard anything explicit about them. |
Nevertheless, we shall omit to do so, because their task
hitherto has only referred, as a preparation, to the great
undertaking upon which we see them embarking. We
live, however, in the hope of satisfactorily meeting them |
again at some future day in full methodical activity, |
making manifest the real worth of their several cha-

racters. :

Julietta, the sensible good one, whom we may still
recollect, had married a man after her uncle’s heart,
working thoroughly with sympathy and energy in his
own direction. Julietta was latterly a good deal with
the aunt, where many of those upon whom she had
exercised a beneficial influence met together, not only
such as remain devoted to the mainland, but those also
who intend to go across the sea. Lenardo, on the other
hand, had already taken leave of Friedrich. The commu-
nication through messengers between them was so much
the more active.

If then those worthy people above-mentioned were
absent from.the catalogue of the guests, still there were
to be found amongst them many important persons already
intimately known to us. Hilaria came with her husband,
who now appeared as a captain and indubitably rich land-
owner. She, with her great grace and amiability, gained
here as always an easy pardon for her too great readiness
to change in passing from one source of interest to another,
of which in the course of this narrative we have found
her guilty. The men especially did not tax her severely
for it: a fault of this kind, if it is one, they do not consider
objectionable, since each one may wish and hope that he
too may have a turn.

Flavio, her husband, vigorous, cheerful and amiable
Cmar. XIV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 415

enough, seemed to rivet her affection completely : she might
well have forgiven herself for the past; even Makaria
found no occasion to refer toit. He, the always passionate
poet, begged on parting to be allowed to recite a poem
that he had composed in honour of her and her surrounding
friends during the few days of his stay here. He had
often been seen walking up and down in the open air,
after a short pause again walking forwards with excited
gestures, writing at the desk, then thinking and writing
again. But now he seemed to regard it as finished when
he made his wish known through Angela.

The good lady, though unwillingly, gave her consent,
and at all events it might be listened to, although one
learnt nothing more from it than one knew already, felt
nothing but what one had already felt. Meanwhile,
however, the delivery was easy and pleasing, treatment
and rhymes partly new, though on the whole one might
have wished it somewhat shorter. At last, he handed it
over, very beautifully written on wide-bordered paper, and
they separated with perfect mutual satisfaction.

This couple had returned from a notable, well-employed
tour to the south in order to release their father, the
Major, from the house: who with the Irresistible one, who
had now become his wife, also wished to inhale a little
of the air of Eden for some measure of refreshment.

Thus these two also come in their turn, and so
with Makaria as everywhere the Wonderful one found
special favour, which was especially shown in this that
the lady was received in the inner room and alone,’
which favour was afterwards accorded to the Major also.
He proved himself thereupon to be a cultivated military
man, a good manager of house and land, a friend of
literature, even worthy of praise as.a didactic poet; and
he experienced a good reception from the astronomer and
other intimates of the house.

He was especially distinguished also by our old friend
the worthy uncle, who, living at some distance, at this
time came over oftener than he was otherwise wont to do,
though it were only for a few hours at a time; but he
could not be persuaded to stay for a single night, though
the best accommodation was offered to him.
416 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor III.

Yet at such short meetings his presence was in the
highest degree gratifying, for he was then willing asa man |
of the world and of the court to appear in an indulgent |
and intermediary character, in which accordingly a trace
of aristocratic pedantry was not found unpleasant. More-
over, his good-humour now proceeded from his heart;
he was happy, as we all feel when we have to deal with
matters of importance with sensible rational people. The
comprehensive business was in full course; it went on
continuously with carefully fostered collaboration.

To this he gave only his principal moments. He is a
landowner, by inheritance from his ancestors, beyond
the seas. What that implies, he who understands the
position of affairs there may explain more in detail to
his friends, for it will of necessity take us too far now.
These important possessions had hitherto been let on
lease, and under various drawbacks brought in little.
The association with which we are sufficiently acquainted
is now authorized to take possession there, in the midst of
the most perfect civil institutions, from which as an influ-
ential link of the state it can look for advantage to itself,
and spread itself still further in the uncultivated waste.
Here then will Friedrich with Lenardo come especially to
_ the front to show how one can in point of fact begin from
the beginning and strike out a natural path.

Hardly had those we have named departed, satisfied in
the highest degree with their stay, when there were
announced some guests of a very different sort, and yet
welcome ones too. We should scarcely have expected to
see Philina and Lydia make their appearance in a place of
such sanctity, and yet they arrived. Montan, who was
still lingering in the mountains, was presently to fetch
them, and take them by the nearest road to the lake.
Both were very well received by the housekeepers,
stewardesses, and other women who had situations or
dwelt in the house. Philina brought with her a pair of
most lovable children, and while simply and very attrac-
tively dressed she distinguished herself by an extraordi-
nary habit. From her flower-embroidered belt she carried,
hanging from a long silver chain, a moderately large pair
of English scissors, with which she would often snip and
 

Cmar. XIV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 417

snap in the air, just as if she wanted to give emphasis
to her conversation, and by doing this she aroused the
merriment of all present, whereupon also the question
soon followed whether it could be that, in so large a
family, there was no cloth to cut. ‘And then it was dis-
covered very fortunately for such energy, that a couple of
brides were to be fitted out. Hereupon she looks at the
costume of the country, and bids the girls walk up and
down before her, whilst she cuts away; in doing which
she proceeded with spirit and taste, and, without in any
way detracting from the character of such a costume, she
managed to soften down its peculiar stiff barbarousness
with so soft a grace that the two thus clothed pleased
themselves and others better, and overcame their anxiety
lest they might have deviated from what was traditional.

Now came Lydia, who was skilful in ‘sewing readily,
neatly and swiftly, to their complete assistance, and one
might venture to hope to see the brides; with the aid of the
rest of the womankind, dressed out more quietly than one
would have thought, and in the meantime these girls dared
not go far away. Philina busied herself with them down
to the minutest details, and treated them as if they were
dolls or stage-dummies. Heaps of ribands and other
festive array usual in the neighbourhood were fittingly
distributed, and at last the result was attained that these
buxom bodies and neat figures, generally decked out with
barbarous formality, now became somewhat conspicuous,
but in such a way that all vulgarity seemed in every
point toned down into a sort of gracefulness.

But over-busy people, in circumstances restricted by
uniform rules, become wearisome. Philina with her
voracious scissors had got into the rooms where the stores
fur the clothing of the large household lay at hand in
materials of various kinds. There she experienced, in the
prospect of cutting it all up, the greatest delight: it was
necessary actually to take her out, and lock the door fast;
for she knew neither bounds nor measure. Angela, on
this account, really would not be treated as a bride; for
she dreaded such a slasher; in general the relations be-
tween the two were by no means happily brought out.
This however, can only be enlarged on later. ;

2 E
 
 

418 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. . [Book IIL } k
i

Montan put off coming longer than had been antici-
pated, and Philina insisted on being presented to Makaria. ©
This was done, for then they hoped that they would get ©
1id of her all the sooner, and it was a sufficiently remark- *
able sight to see the two sinners at the feet of the Saint. ©
They lay at her knees on either side, Philina between her =
two children, whom she urged down with demonstrative
gracefulness. With her wonted geniality she said—“I ©
love my husband, my children. I gladly work for them, ©
for others too: forgive the rest.” Makaria saluted and |
blessed her ; she withdrew with a becoming bow.

Lydia lay to the left side of the saintly woman with her
face on her breast, weeping bitterly and unable to utter
a word. Makaria, interpreting her tears, tapped her on
the shoulder as if she would soothe her. Then with
pious intent she fervently and repeatedly kissed her head
between the parted tresses, as it lay in front of her. !
Lydia raised herself, first to her knees, then to her feet,
and regarded her benefactress with pure joy. *

“What has happened to me!” she said, “how do I feel !
The heavy painful burden, which deprived me, if not of
all consciousness, at least of all reflexion, is suddenly lifted
from off my head : I can now look upwards freely, direct
my thoughts on high, and,” she added after drawing her
breath deeply, «I believe my heart will follow.”

At this moment the door opened, and as frequently one
too long awaited will suddenly and unexpectedly appear,
Montan came in. Lydia stepped gleefully up to him,
embraced him joyfully, and as she led him to Makaria,
she exclaimed, * He shall know how he is indebted to this
divine one, and gratefully kneel down with me.”

Montan, surprised, and contrary to his usual custom
somewhat embarrassed, said with a graceful bow towards
the worthy lady, «It seems to be a great deal; for I -
become your debtor. It is the first time that you have
come frankly and lovingly to me, the first time that you
have pressed me to your heart, although I have long
deserved it.”

We must now confidentially disclose that Montan had
loved Lydia from her early youth, that the more engaging
Lothario had enticed her from him, but that he had re-
.Cuar. XIV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 419

mained faithful to her and to his friend, and at last, pro-
bably to the no small surprise of our earlier readers, had
gained her for his wife.

All these three, who would not have been able to
feel quite at ease in European society, scarcely placed
limits to the expression of their joy when the expected
settlement abroad was spoken of. Philina’s scissors were
already snipping; for she was thinking of securing the
monopoly of providing this new colony with articles of
apparel. Philina described very prettily the large store of
cloth and linen, and snipped in the air, « already beholding,”
she said, * the harvest for scythe and sickle before her.”

Lydia, on the other hand, only now by that happy
blessing awakened again to sympathetic love, saw already
in spirit her scholars increasing a hundredfold, and a
whole population of housewives led on and stirred up to
exactitude and elegance. The earnest Montan too has all
the mineral wealth of those regions in lead, copper, iron
and coal before his eyes, to such an extent that he is
often ready to declare all his knowledge and ability
as mere painful groping experiment towards the rich
remunerative harvest that he there should first boldly
gather in.

That Montan would soon be on good terms with our
astronomer was to be foreseen. The discussions which
they carried on in Makaria’s presence were attractive
in the highest degree. However, we find but little of
them to write down, Angela having been for some time
less attentive in listening and more careless in writing
them out. Much of it too might seem to her too general,
and not sufficiently comprehensible for a young lady. We
therefore insert in passing only a few of the utterances
of those days which have come to us—in no case in her
handwriting.

In the study of the sciences, particularly those that
deal with nature, it is as necessary as it is difficult to
inquire whether that which has been handed down to us
from the past, and regarded as valid by our ancestors,
is really to be relied on to such a degree that we may
continue to build upon it safely in the future; or whether

2E2
420 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book III’

traditionary knowledge has become only stationary, and
hence occasions inertia rather than progress. There is one
characteristic that furthers this inquiry—whether, namely,
the received results are being, and have been, and remain
influential in and promotive of active endeavour.

The testing of the new stands in the opposite case—
when one has to ask whether what is received is real
profit or only fashionable conformity. For an opinion
emanating from energetic men, spreads like contagion
throughout the crowd, and then it is said to be prevalent—
an assumption that to the true enquirer expresses no idea.
Church and State may at any rate have reasons to declare
themselves dominant; for they have to do with the
recalcitrant multitude, and if only order is kept, it is all
the. same by what means; but in the sciences absolute
freedom is necessary; for then one is working not for
to-day and to-morrow, but for an endlessly progressive
succession of years.

But, moreover, if in science the false gets the upper °
hand, yet there will always remain a minority for the
true; and if it should contract into one single spirit
it would not matter : he will work his way in silence,
in secret, and a time will come when people will enquire
about him and his convictions, or when with the general
diffusion of enlightenment they will venture to present
themselves again.

But a subject less general, though incomprehensible
and extraordinary, that came under discussion, was Mon-
tan’s casual disclosure that in his mountain and mining
investigations he was assisted by a being who displayed
the most wonderful qualities, and a quite peculiar relation
to everything that one might call stone, mineral—even in
general, an element. This being felt not only a great effect
from waters flowing underground, from metalliferous layers
and veins, as well as coal measures, and aught else of the
sort that lay together in masses, but, what was more
wonderful, it felt different and again different as soon as
it merely changed its soil. The different sorts of moun-
tains exercised a special influence upon it, about which
since he had managed to produce a language which was
strange enough, but at the same time sufficient, he was
Cuar. XIV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 421

able to arrive at a clear understanding with it and test
it in details, when it stood the test in a remarkable way,
being able as it was to distinguish chemical as well as
physical elements by the feeling, nay even distinguishing
by look alone the heavier from the lighter substances.
This being, about whose sex he would not disclose himself
more plainly, he has sent forward with the departing
friends, and he hoped a good deal from it in furtherance
of his aims in the unexplored districts.*

This confidence on the part of Montan opened the
stern heart of the astronomer, who accordingly, with
Makaria’s consent, revealed to him in return her relation
to the planetary system. By the aid of later communi-
cations by the astronomer we are in a position to impart,
if not adequately, at any rate the chief point of their
conversations on such important subjects.

Let us, in the meanwhile, admire the similarity of the
cases here occurring, together with the greatest diversity.
One friend, in order not to become a Timon, had plunged
himself into the deepest caverns of the earth ; and even
there he was aware that in human nature there is
something analogous to what is most rigid and uncouth.
To the other, on the contrary, Makaria’s spirit gave an
instance of the fact that as in the former case, tarrying, so in
this case distant removal, is the attribute of gifted natures;
and that it is necessary neither to penetrate to the centre
of the earth, nor to remove beyond the limits of our solar
system, but that they are already sufficiently occupied, and
in particular made attentive to action and summoned to it.
Upon and in the soil is found matter for the highest
earthly requirements, a world full of material, handed
over to-the manipulation of man’s highest faculties; but
upon that spiritual road sympathy, love and orderly free
activity are always found. To reconcile these two worlds
with one another, to make manifest their double-sided
peculiarities in the passing phenomenon of life, is the
highest form to which man can develop himself.

Hereupon the two friends made a contract, and under-
= % Compare ‘Elective Affinities’ (Wahlverwandschaften) part ii.

ch. xi, where Oftilie is represented as having a similar natural
sympathy —Ep.
422 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book III.

took in any case not to conceal their experiences; for he
who could smile at them as tales well suited for a romance,
might still continue to regard them as a symbol of all
that was most worthy to be desired.

The departure of Montan and his ladies soon followed,
and if he and Lydia had been very welcome, yet the too-
restless Philina was tiresome to a number of young ladies
accustomed to repose and order, but particularly to the
noble-minded Angela; moreover, several other circum-
stances combined to increase the discomfort.

We have already had occasion to remark that Angela
did not fulfil as before the duty of attending and taking
notes, but seemed to be otherwise occupied. To explain
this anomaly. in a person so given to order, and moving
in the most refined of circles, we are compelled, late as it
is, to introduce a new actor in this comprehensive drama.

Our old and tried merchant-friend Werner was com-
pelled, with the growth, nay, with the so-to-say unlimited
increase of his business, to look around for other assistants,
whom, not without special previous testing, he attached
more nearly to himself. Such a one he now sends to
Makaria, to treat about the payment of important sums of
money which this lady out of her large means determined
and promised to devote to the new undertaking, with
especial reference to her favourite Lenardo. The above-
mentioned young man, now Werner’s assistant and partner,
a lively natural youth, and a perfect phenomenon, recom-
mends himself by a singular talent, an unlimited readiness
at calculation in every case, and especially with the under-
takers as they are now working together, when they must
needs occupy themselves closely with calculations in the
manifold senses of a business reckoning and ascertain
their balance.

Even in daily society where, in discussion about mat-
ters of the world, the conversation is of numbers, sums,
and balances, such a man must be in the highest degree
welcome as a colleague. Moreover, he played the piano
very gracefully—in which calculation, united and combined
with an amiable natural disposition, is extremely helpful.
The tones flow lightly and harmoniously together, but he
often hints that he would also be at home in deeper regions ;
Cuap. XIV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 423

and thus he becomes most highly attractive whilst he
says little, and scarcely a symptom of feelings transpires
through his conversation. In any case he is younger than
his years; something childlike might almost be attributed
to him. And whatever else may be said of him, he has
gained Angela's favour, and she his, to Makaria’s great
content, for she had long wished to see the noble girl
married.

The latter, however, always thoughtful, and feeling how
difficult it would be to fill her place, had already declined
an offer of love from some one or other, and perhaps even
done violence to a secret affection; but since a successor
had been contemplated, nay, to some extent already ap-
pointed, she seems to have been taken unawares by a
favourable impression, and to have resigned herself even
passionately to it.

But we now reach the point of disclosing the most im-
portant thing, since all that has so long been our theme
has little by little been shaped, resolved, and put into
form again. Accordingly, it has been determined for the
future that the Fair-good-one, otherwise called the Nut-
brown Maid, shall attach herself to Makaria. The plan,
submitted in a general sense to Lenardo, and also approved
by him, is quite near to its execution: all the parties to it
are agreed : the Fair-good-one hands over all her property
to her factotum. He marries the second daughter in the
industrious family, and becomes the loomfitter’s brother-
in-law. By this means the complete establishment of a
factory with the aid of local and co-operative effort becomes
possible, and the inhabitants of the labour-loving valley
are busied in another and more lively fashion. Thus the
amiable woman is made free; she comes to Makaria in
Angela's place, who is already betrothed to the young
man above mentioned. Thus, for the moment, all is set
straight ; what cannot be decided remains in suspense.

But now the Fair-good-one desires that Wilhelm shall
fetch her away; certain circumstances have still to be
adjusted ; and she sets a great value simply on this, that
that which he in point of fact began, he shall complete.
He first found her out, and a wonderful destiny set Lenardo
upon his track ; and now he—so she wishes-—must lighten
424 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book III

her departure, and so experience the pleasure, the satis-
faction of having himself gathered up and knotted the
ravelled threads of fate.

But now, in order to bring the spiritual, the moral, to a
sort of completion, we must also reveal something more
secret—in fact what follows : Lenardo had never made the
slightest utterance about a closer connexion with the
Fair-good-one; but in the course of the negotiations,
during the many messages to and fro, some enquiry had in
a delicate way been made of her, as to how she would
regard such a connexion, and what, at any rate, if it should
come to words, she would be inclined to do. From her
reply could be gathered thus much, that she did not feel
herself worthy to respond to such affection as that of her
noble-minded friend by the bestowal of her divided self;
kindness of such sort deserved a woman’s whole soul, all
her faculties; but that she could not offer. The recollec-
tion of her lover, her husband, and the reciprocal union of
both, was still so vivid within her, still occupied her whole
being so completely, that no space for love and passion
was conceivable, and that only the purest good-will, and
on this occasion the most perfect gratitude, remained for
her. With this they remained content, and as Lenardo
had had no hand in the incident, it was not even necessary
to give any explanation or answer about it.

A few general considerations will, it may be hoped, be
in place here. The relation of all the foregoing personages
to Makaria was confidential and reverent. They all felt
the presence of a higher being, and yet in this presence
every one retained the freedom of appearing quite in his
own nature. Every one shows himself as he is, more
than ever before parents and friends, with a certain con-
fidence ; for he has been enticed and prompted to bring to
light only the good, the best that is in him; hence arose
an almost general satisfaction.

But we cannot refrain from saying that, throughout
these in some measure distracting circumstances, Makaria
remained occupied with Lenardo’s position. She expressed
herself on the subject to her intimates, to Angela and the
astronomer. She believed that she plainly saw Lenardo’s
mind before her, For the moment he is satisfied : the object
|

 

~ Cmar. XIV] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 425

of his solicitude is in the highest degree fortunate ; Makaria

had provided for the future in any circumstances. He had
now to enter boldly upon and begin the great business,
and leave the rest to the future and to fate. And here
it might be supposed that he was chiefly fortified in this
undertaking by the thought of summoning her over, if
not even fetching her himself, as soon as ever he had
established his footing.

Some general remarks cannot be withheld here. The
strange case which here arose—passion developed from con-
scientiousness—was more closely observed. At the same
time other instances of the wonderful transformation of
impressions once received, the mysterious development of

innate inclination and longing, were recalled : thatin such

cases there was little to be done was regretted, but it
would be found in the highest degree advisable to keep
as clear as possible, and not yield unconditionally to this
or that connexion.

But, this point reached, we cannot resist the temptation
to communicate from our archives a paper which concerns
Makaria and the special property which was bestowed on
her mind. Unfortunately this memorandum was written
from memory only some time after it was communicated,
and is not, as would be desirable in so remarkable a case,
to be looked upon as authentic. Be that as it may, how-

ever, so much is imparted here as will arouse reflexion

and recommend attention as to whether something similar
or approximate has not been, somewhere or other, noted
and recorded,
426 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book III.

CHAPTER XV.

MagkAriA is found to be in a relation to our solar system
which one may hardly venture to express. In the spirit,
the soul, the imagination, she cherishes it; she not only
contemplates it, but forms as it were a part of it. She sees
herself drawn onward in those heavenly orbits, but in a
manner quite peculiar; she has revolved round the sun
since her childhood, and in fact, as is now discerned, in a
spiral continually receding from the central point and
circling towards the outer regions.

If it may be assumed that beings in so far as they are
corporeal tend towards the centre, in so far as they are
spiritual towards the circumference, then our friend belongs
to the most spiritual; she seems born only to disengage
herself from the earthly, to penetrate to the nearest and
most distant spaces of existence. This peculiar quality,
glorious as it is, was laid on her, from her earliest years,
as a weighty responsibility. From childhood she remem-
bers her innermost self, as penetrated by luminous beings,
irradiated by a light with which the brightest sunshine
has nothing in common. She often saw two suns, an
inward one, and one without in the heavens; two moons,
of which the external one retained its size in all its
phases, whilst the inner one diminished ever more and
more.

This gift drew her sympathy away from common things ;
but her excellent parents availed themselves of all means
of culture for her. All capabilities were active in her, all
modes of activities effective; so that she was able to satisfy
all external relations; and whilst her heart, her mind
was entirely filled with super-mundane vision, her actions
and conduct still remained ever conformable to the noblest
Cuar. XV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS, 427

morality. As she grew up, helpful everywhere, unre-
mitting in great and small services, she moved like an
~ angel of God upon earth, whilst her spiritual whole moved
it is true around the natural sun, but with respect to the
supernatural one in ever-widening circles.

The excessive plenitude of this condition was in some
degree relieved by the fact that there also seemed to be
an alternation of day and night in her; for when the
inner light was diminished she strove to fulfil her outer
duties most faithfully, and on a fresh refulgence within
~ resigned herself to the most blissful repose. Nay, she has
remarked that a sort of clouds have from time to time

hovered round her, and shared for a period the aspect of
her heavenly companions—an epoch which she has always
contrived to employ for the benefit or pleasure of her
friends.

As long as she kept her visions secret, it was no small
matter to support them. What she revealed of them was
not acknowledged or was misinterpreted: she therefore
allowed it to pass to the outer world as a malady: and it
is still always so spoken of in the family. But at last
good fortune brought to her the man whom you see with
us, equally estimable as physician, mathematician and
astronomer, a thoroughly noble man who yet at first really
found his way to her from curiosity, But as she gained
confidence in him to gradually describe her condition to
him, when she had joined the present with the past, and
introduced a continuity into the circumstances, he was so
possessed by the phenomenon that he could no longer
separate from her, but every day tried to penetrate more
deeply into the secret.

At first, as he not indistinctly hinted, he held it to be
an illusion: for she did not deny that from earliest
youth she had diligently occupied herself with the science
of stars and sky, that she had become well-informed in
that respect, and never lost an opportunity of making, by
the aid of instruments and books, the structure of the
universe clearer to her senses. He was therefore not
to be dissuaded but that it was acquired; the effect
of a highly disciplined imagination, the influence of
memory, was to be suspected, with the co-operation of
428 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boox III. 1

discriminating power, but especially of a hidden method =

of calculation.

He is a mathematician and therefore obstinate; a clear
mind and therefore incredulous: he remained long on his
guard, noticing accurately, however, what she alleged ; tried
to anticipate the result of several years, attended particu-
larly to the most recent utterances coinciding with the
opposition of the heavenly luminaries, and at last exclaimed,

+

i

5

“ Now, why should not God and Nature create and arrange |

a living armillary sphere, a spiritual clockwork, such that |

it should be able to follow, as our clocks do day by day
and hour by hour, the course of the stars of its own accord
and in its own way.”

But here we do not venture to go further; for the
incredible loses its value if we seek to inspect it in closer
detail. Yet thus much we do say: what served as the
basis of the calculations to be applied was as follows—

To her, the seeress, our sun seemed in her vision much
smaller than she saw it by day: moreover an unusual
position of this higher luminary in the zodiac gave occa-
sion to some deductions.

On the other hand doubt and bewilderment arose,
because the observer indicated one star or another as
likewise appearing in the zodiac, but of which nothing
could be perceived in the sky. It might be the small
planets at that time still undiscovered : for from other
utterances it could be gathered that, having long ago crossed
the orbit of Mars she was nearing that of Jupiter. She
had manifestly for a long time been contemplating with
astonishment, it would be hard to say at what distance,
this planet in its tremendous glory, and had beheld the
motion of its moons about it, but had afterwards seen
him in the strangest guise as a waning moon, and in fact
reversed, as the waxing moon appears to us. From this
it was concluded that she saw him from the side, and was
actually on the point of crossing his orbit, and striving
towards Saturnin the illimitable space. Thither noimagin-
ation follows her: but we hope that such an entelecheia *
will not altogether abandon our solar system, but on
reaching its boundaries will long to return to influence

¥ An Aristotelian term meaning effective power.—ED.
‘Cnr. XV.] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 429

again the life and well-being of the earth for the benefit
of our descendants.

Whilst we herewith conclude, in the hope of pardon,
this ethereal poem, let us turn back to that terrestrial fable
of which we have given a passing indication above.

Montan had given out with the greatest appearance of
truth that that extraordinary person who was able to
indicate so well by feeling the differences of the material
of the earth, had already gone abroad with the first of the
emigrants; a statement, however, which to the thoughtful
must have seemed altogether unlikely. For how could
Montan and others of his sort have let so handy a divining-
rod go from his side? Moreover, soon after his departure,
by the aid of gossip and special tales of the under house-
servants on the subject, a general suspicion arose. For
Philina and Lydia had brought with them a third person
under the pretence that she was a servant, for which
however she did not seem to be in the least adapted : and
besides she was never wanted when the ladies dressed or
undressed. Her simple costume clothed the compact, well-
knit body very neatly, but like the whole of her person
gave an indication of rusticity. Her behaviour without
being rough showed none of the culture of society, of
which ladies’-maids generally offer a caricature. Moreover
she soon found her place amongst the servants ; she asso-
ciated herself with the garden and field-servants, laid hold
of the spade and worked like two or three. If she got hold
of the rake, it flew in the nimblest way over the upturned
earth, and the widest space resembled a well-levelled
flower-bed. In other respects she kept herself quiet and
very soon won universal good-will. They would talk
to each other about her, and say that she had often been
seen to lay down her implement and run across the fields
over stock and stone to a hidden spring where she could
quench her thirst. This practice she had repeated daily,
contriving, from any point at which she happened to be
standing, always to find out some pure running water
or other, whenever she had need of it.

And thus a witness to Montan’s statement had re-
mained behind. He, probably in order to avoid trouble-
some trials and inadequate testings, determined to conceal
430 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. {Book IIL |

the presence of so remarkable a person from his noble hosts,
who would otherwise have well deserved such confidence.

We, however, have wished to communicate, even incom- |
pletely as it lies before us, what has come to our know-
ledge, with the friendly intention of directing the obser-
vation of men of research to similar cases, which present

themselves, by some sort of indication, perhaps more often
than one would think.
Cer)

CHAPTER XVI.

Tue steward of the castle which but a short time since
we saw enlivened by our travellers, active and dexterous
by nature, always keeping before his eyes his employers’
interest and his own, was now sitting contentedly making
up accounts and reports, in which he was at pains to
bring out and to display separately with some compla-
cency the great advantages that had accrued to his
district during the presence of these guests. But this,
according to his own persuasion, was only the least: he
had remarked what great results emanate from active,
able, liberal-minded, and bold men. Some had taken their
leave, to settle beyond the seas; others to gain their
livelihood upon the mainland: he was now aware of yet
a third secret relation, which he at once resolved to turn
to account.

At their departure it became evident (as could have
been foreseen and known) that many of the stalwart
young men had become more or less friendly with the
pretty girls of the village and the neighbourhood—only a
few showed courage enough, when Odoard went away
with his followers, to declare definitely that they would
remain. Of Lenardo’s emigrants not one stayed, but of
these latter several declared that in a short time they
would return and settle down, if they could be provided
in some measure with a sufficient subsistence, and security
for the future.

The steward who was perfectly well acquainted with
every individual and the domestic circumstances of the
little population that was subject to him, laughed quietly
like a true egoist, at the circumstance that such great
preparations and expenses should be incurred for the
432 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor III

purpose of showing themselves free and active beyond |

geas and inland, and yet should thereby bring him, who
had sat quite still on his acres, just the greatest advan-
tages to house and home, and give him an opportunity of

keeping back and collecting round himself some of the.

best. His thoughts, enlarged by present circumstances, =
found nothing more natural than that liberality well |

applied, would have worthy and profitable consequences.

He immediately formed the resolution of undertaking |
something like it in his own little district. Fortunately |

some well-to-do inhabitants were now as it were compelled
to resign their daughters legally to the too premature

husbands. The steward made such a social mishap com- |
prehensible to them as a fortunate occurrence : and since it

was really fortunate that this lot had fallen upon the

artisans who would with this intent be most useful, it |
was not difficult to make a beginning with a furniture-

factory, which needs no wide space or great surroundings,
but only requires dexterity and sufficient material. The
last the steward promised : wives, space and custom the in-
habitants provided, and the immigrants brought dexterity
with them.

All this the clever man of business had already well
thought over in private during the stay and in the turmoil
of the crowd: and therefore, as soon as there was quiet
around him, he could immediately proceed to work.

Peace, in truth a sort of death-like peace, had fallen
on the village streets, on the castle courtyard, after the
rush of this flood, when a horseman galloping in upon our
calculating and scheming man of business, called out to
him and roused him from his peaceful frame of mind. It
is true that the horses’ hoofs did not clatter, for it was not
shod, but the rider, who sprang from the saddle-cloth (he
rode without saddle and stirrups, and controlled the horse
only by a halter) called loudly and impatiently for the
inmates, the guests, and was passionately astonished at
finding everything so still and dead.

The steward’s servant knew not what to make of this
stranger. When a discussion arose the steward himself
came forth, and he too was able to say nothing more than
that they had all gone away.
Ar

Crap. XVE] WILHELM MEISTER’S, TRAVELS. 433

« Whither?” was the question of the vivacious young
stranger. With composure, the steward indicated the road
of Lenardo and Odoard, and of a third problematical person
whom they had partly called Wilhelm, partly Meister.
He had embarked upon the river at a few miles distance :
he was going down, first to visit his son, and then to
follow out further some important business.

The youth already had vaulted again upon the horse,
and received information as to the nearest road to the
river, when he galloped out of the gateway again and
sped away so quickly that the steward, who was looking
out of his window overhead, scarcely detected by a flying
cloud of dust that the mad rider had taken the right
track.

The last cloud of dust had just disappeared in the
distance, and our steward was about to sit down again to
his business, when a messenger on foot came rushing in
at the same gate and asked likewise for the party, to
whom he had been sent off in haste to deliver something
of importance. He had for them a rather large packet,
but in addition to this also a single letter addressed to
Wilhelm, called Meister, which had been specially com-
mended to the care of the messenger by a young lady ; and
the speedy delivery of which had been most stringently
urged. Unfortunately he too could receive no other answer
than that he found the nest empty, and must therefore
proceed on his way with all speed to such place where he
might hope to light upon them all together or to obtain
some further information.

But the letter itself, which also we have found amongst
the many papers intrusted to us, being of the greatest
importance, we must not withhold. It was from Hersilia,
a young lady as wonderful as she was amiable, who appears
only seldom in our communications, but who at every
appearance must certainly have attracted irresistibly every
one of intellect and refinement. The fate, too, that be-
falls her, is perhaps the most extraordinary that can befall
a tender spirit.
434 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Book IIL

CHAPTER XVII.

Hersilia to Wilhelm.

I was sitting thinking, and could not say what I was
thinking about. A thoughtful unthinking, however,
often comes over me ; it is a sort of conscious indifference.
A horse gallops into the courtyard, and rouses me from
my repose: the door flies open, and Felix enters in all
the splendour of youth, like a little idol. He hastens
up to me, and is about to embrace me. I sign him
back. He seems indifferent, remains at some distance,
and with undisturbed cheerfulness begins to praise the
horse that brought him here, and to tell me circum-
stantially and confidentially about his habits and his
pleasures. The recollection of former stories brings us
upon the ornamental casket; he knows that I have it,
and wishes to see it: I acquiesce, it was impossible to
refuse. He looks at it, tells circumstantially how he
discovered it. I get confused, and betray the fact that I
have the key. Now his curiosity rises to the highest
pitch ; that too he wishes to see, only at a distance. One
could never see any one beg more urgently and lovingly :
he begs and prays, kneels and begs with such fiery,
winning eyes, such sweet insinuating words, that I was
again over-persuaded. I held up the wondrous secret at a
distance, but he quickly caught hold of my hand and
snatched it away, springing playfully aside, round a table.

“I have nothing to do with the casket, or the key,”
he exclaimed. “It was your heart I wished to open, that
it should disclose itself to me, come to me, press itself to
me, give me leave to press it to my breast.”
CHAP. XVII] WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. 435

He was infinitely beautiful and lovable, and as I was
about to run after him, he kept pushing the casket before
him on the table: the key was already in the lock: he
threatened to turn it, and turned it really; the key broke
off, the outer end fell upon the table.

I was more distracted than can be imagined. He takes
advantage of my inattention, leaves the casket lying,
rushes at me and seizes me in his arms. I struggled in
vain; his eyes approached mine; and it is something
lovely to see one’s own form in a loving eye. I saw it
for the first time, as he pressed his lips passionately on
mine. I must confess it, I gave him his kisses back; it is
so lovely to make a person happy. I tore myself away ;
the gulf that separates us appeared only too plainly to
me. Instead of collecting myself, I overshot the mark; I
pushed him angrily away ; my confusion gave me courage
and wit; I threatened, scolded, ordered him never to ap-
pear before me again; he believed in the genuineness of
my expressions.

“Very well,” said he, “then I will ride out into the
world until I perish.” :

He threw himself on his horse and galloped away.
Still half-dreaming I go to take charge of the casket: the
half of the key lay broken off. I found myself in double,
triple embarrassment. :

0 men, O mankind, will you never plant out reason?
Had we not enough of the father, who was the cause of so
much mischief; did we need the son also, to confuse us
irretrievably ?

These impressions were lying by me a long time; now
a strange circumstance intervenes which I must mention :
it clears up and obliterates the foregoing.

An old goldsmith and jeweller, esteemed by my uncle,
comes in and exhibits some strange antique treasures. I
am instigated to bring out the casket; he looks at the
broken key and points out what had hitherto been over-
looked, that the fracture was not rough, but smooth. By
contact the two ends adhere to one another. He pulls out
the key entire ; they are magnetically united, hold firmly
436 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIT

to each other, but lock only for one who is initiated.
The man goes a short distance off; the casket flies open,
but he shuts it down again at once: such secrets, he
opines, it is not good to meddle with.

My inexplicable condition, thank Heaven, you certainly
do not realise; for how should one appreciate the embar-
rassment, whilst outside the embarrassment. The impor-
tant casket stands before me; the key which turns net I
hold in my hand : the former I would willingly leave un-
opened, if only the latter would unlock for me the future
at hand.

Do not trouble yourself about me for awhile: but I
pressingly beg, implore, urgently enjoin, inquire after
Felix! I have sent round about in vain, to find out the
traces of his path. I know not whether I should bless or
dread the day which will bring us together again.

At last, ab last, the messenger demands his dismissal;
he has been kept here long enough: he is to overtake the
wanderers with important despatches. In their company
he will doubtless find you too, or they will direct him
aright. I, in the meantime, shall not be pacified.
 

(187)

CHAPTER XVIII

Now was the bark gliding down the river, shone on by
the hot noonday sun; gentle breezes cooled the heated
ether; soft banks on both sides afforded a very simple
yet pleasing prospect. The corn-land was not far from
the stream, and a rich soil lay so close to it that the
rushing water, at any part where it was precipitated
against it, had dealt forcibly with the loose earth, and
carrying it off, had formed rugged precipices of consider-
able height.

Right above, on the most broken edge of such a preci-
pice, where in other circumstances the towing-path would
have run, our friend saw a young man, well built, of
powerful form, approaching at a trot. But scarcely was
he about to take a sharper look at him than the over-
hanging turf broke loose and the unlucky one is precipi-
tately hurled, horse above, rider beneath, into the water.
It was no time to think how and wherefore: the sailors
rowed, swift as an arrow, to the surging pool, and in a
moment had grasped the beautiful prize, To all appear- .
ance lifeless, the beautiful youth lay in the boat, and
after a short consultation the expert mep rowed to a
pebbly osier-ground that had formed itself in mid-stream.
To land, to lift the body on to the bank, to strip and dry
it, was the work of a moment, but as yet no sign of life
was to be seen; the fair flower lay prostrate in their
arms ! ;

Wilhelm got hold of the lancet at once to open the vein
of the arm : the blood gushed out copiously, and mingling
with the winding, glancing waves, it followed the rippling
stream. Life returned. The loving surgeon had scarcely

: time to fix the bandages, when the youth had already
438 WILHELM MEISTER’S TRAVELS. [Boor IIL

boldly raised himself upon his feet, and looking keenly at
Wilhelm, cried, «If I am to live let it be with thee!”

With these words he fell on the neck of his recognising
and recognised preserver, and wept bitterly. So they
stood in close embrace, like Castor and Pollux: brothers
meeting at the turning-point between Orkus and Day.

They begged him to quiet himself. The sturdy men
had already prepared a comfortable couch, half in the sun,
half in shade, amongst light bushes and twigs: here he
was now lying, stretched upon his father’s cloak, the
comeliest among youths: brown locks, quickly dried,
already curled again; he smiled quietly and fell asleep.
Our friend as he covered him over looked down at him
with pleasure.

« Art thou then ever reproduced, glorious image of
God!” he exclaimed, “ and art forthwith disfigured again,
injured from within or from without.”

The cloak fell over him : a tempered sun-glow gently
and deeply warmed his limbs throughout: his cheeks
reddened healthily, he seemed already completely restored.

The active men, rejoicing in a good action well sped,
and anticipating the liberal recompense that was to be
expected, had already as good as dried the youth's cloth-
ing on the hot shingle, so that as soon as he awoke they
might reinstate him in the most becoming condition for
society.

THE END.

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