tendencies of his childhood. We see him as an orderly, somewhat formal, inquisitive, reasoning, deliberative child, a precocious learner, an omnivorous reader, and a vigorous logician who thinks for himself so independent that at six years of age he doubts the beneficence of the Creator; at seven, doubts the competence and justice of the world's judgment. He is inventive, poetical, proud, loving, volatile, with a mind open to all influences, swayed by every gust, and yet, while thus swayed as to the direction of his activity, master over himself. The most diverse characters, the most antagonistic opinions interest him. He is very studious, no bookworm more so: alternately busy with languages, mythology, antiquities, law philosophy, poetry and religion; yet he joins in all festive scenes, gets familiar with Life in various forms, and stays out late o' nights. He is also troubled by a melancholy, dreamy mood, forcing him ever and anon into solitude. 6 Among the dominant characteristics, however, are seriousness, formality, rationality. He is by no means. a naughty boy. He gives his parents no tremulous anxiety as to what will become of him.' He seems very much master of himself. It is this which in later years perplexed his judges, who could not reconcile this appearance of self-mastery, this absence of enthusiasm, with their conceptions of a poet. Assuredly he had enthusiasm, if ever man had it at least, if enthusiasm (being full of the God') means being filled with a divine idea, and by its light working steadily. He had little of the other kind of enthusiasm the insurrection of the Feelings carrying away upon their triumphant shoulders the Reason which has no longer power to guide them; for his intellect did not derive its main momentum from his feelings. And hence it is that whereas the quality which first strikes us in most poets is sensibility, with its caprices, infirmities, - is scars which and generous errors, the first quality which strikes us in Goethe the Child and Man, but not the Youth intellect, with its clearness, calmness, and provoking immunity from error. I say provoking, for we all gladly overlook the errors of enthusiasm; some, because these errors appeal to our compassion, and some, because these errors establish a community of impulse between the sinner and ourselves, forming, as it were, broken edges which show us where to look for support tell of wounds we have escaped. Whereas, we are pitiless to the successes of reason, the cold prudences which shame our weakness and ask no alms from our charity. Why do we all preach Prudence and dislike it? Perhaps, because we dimly feel that life without its generous errors might want its lasting enjoyments; and thus the very mistakes which arise from an imprudent, unreflecting career, are absolved by that instinct which suggests other aims for existence beyond prudential aims. This is one reason why the erring lives of Genius command such deathless sympathy. Having indicated so much, I may now ask those who are distressed by the calm, self-sustaining superiority of Goethe in old age, whether, on deeper reflection, they cannot reconcile it with their conceptions of the poet's nature ? We preach Reason, but we sympathize with Sensibility. Our dislike of the one arises from its supposed incompatibility with the other. But if a man unites the mastery of Will and Intellect to the profoundest sensibility of Emotion, shall we not say of him that he has in living synthesis vindicated both what we preach and what we love? That Goethe united these will be abundantly shown in this Biography. In the chapters about to follow we shall see him wild, restless, aimless, erring, and extravagant enough to satisfy the most ardent admirer of the vagabond period of genius: the Child and the Man are at times scarcely traceable in the Youth. One trait must not be passed over, namely, his impatient susceptibility, which, while it prevented his ever thoroughly mastering the technic of any one subject, lay at the bottom of his multiplied activity in directions so opposed to each other. He was excessively impressionable, caught the impulse from every surrounding influence, and was thus never constant to one thing, because this susceptibility was connected with an impatience which soon made him weary. There are men who learn many languages, and never thoroughly master the grammar of one. Of these was Goethe. Easily excited to throw his energy in a new direction, he had not the patience which begins at the beginning, and rises gradually, slowly into assured mastery. Like an eagle he swooped down upon his prey; he could not watch for it, with cat-like patience. It is to this impatience we must attribute the fact of so many works being left fragments, so many composed by snatches during long intervals. Prometheus, Mahomet, Die Natürliche Tochter, Elpenor, Achilleis, Nausikaa, etc., remain fragments. Faust, Egmont, Tasso, Iphigenia, Meister, etc., were long years in hand. Whatever could be done in a few days-while the impulse lasted was done; longer works were spread over a series of years. |