The Autobiography of Goethe

Goethe's Disguise.

I had not skipped far with my present, which I carried in a neat tied-up napkin, when, in the distance, I saw my friend coming towards me with the two ladies. My heart was uneasy, which was certainly unsuitable under this jacket. I stood still, took breath, and tried to consider how I should begin; and now I first remarked that the nature of the ground was very much in my favour; for they were walking on the other side of the brook, which, together with the strips of meadow through which it ran, kept the two footpaths pretty far apart. When they were just opposite to me, Frederica, who had already perceived me long before, cried, "George, what are you bringing there?" I was clever enough to cover my face with my hat, which I took off, while I held up the loaded napkin high in the air. "A christening cake!" cried she at that; "how is your sister?" "Well,"42 said I, for I tried to talk in a strange dialect, if not exactly in the Alsatian. "Carry it to the house!" said the elder, "and if you do not find my mother, give it to the maid; but wait for us, we shall soon be back. – do you hear?" I hastened along my path in the joyous feeling of the best hope that, as the beginning was so lucky, all would go off well, and I had soon reached the parsonage. I found nobody either in the house or in the kitchen; I did not wish to disturb the old gentleman, whom I might suppose busy in the study; I therefore sat down on the bench before the door, with the cake beside me, and pressed my hat upon my face.

I cannot easily recall a pleasanter sensation. To sit again on this threshold, over which, a short time before, I had blundered out in despair; to have seen her already again, to have already heard again her dear voice, so soon after my chagrin had pictured to me a long separation, every moment to be expecting herself and a discovery, at which my heart throbbed, and yet, in this ambiguous case, a discovery without shame; for at the very beginning it was a merrier prank than any of those they had laughed at so much yesterday. Love and necessity are the best masters; they both acted together here, and their pupil was not unworthy of them.

"Frederica's Repose."

But the maid came stepping out of the barn. "Now! did the cakes turn out well?" cried she to me; "how is your sister?" "All right," said I, and pointed to the cake without looking up. She took up the napkin and muttered, "Now, what's the matter with you to-day again? Has Barbchen43 been looking again at somebody else? Don't let us suffer for that! You will make a happy couple if you carry on so!" As she spoke pretty loud, the pastor came to the window and asked what was the matter. She showed him to me; I stood up and turned myself towards him; but still kept the hat over my face. When he had spoken somewhat friendly to me, and had asked me to remain, I went towards the garden, and was just going in, when the pastor's wife, who was entering the courtyard gate, called to me. As the sun shone right in my face, I one more availed myself of the advantage which my hat afforded me, and greeted her by scraping a leg; but she went into the house after she had bidden me not to go away without eating something. I now walked up and down in the garden; everything had hitherto had the best success, yet I breathed hard when I reflected that the young people now would soon return. But the mother unexpectedly stepped up to me, and was just going to ask me a question, when she looked me in the face, so that I could not conceal myself any longer, and the words stuck in her throat. "I am looking for George," said she, after a pause, "and whom do I find? Is it you, young sir? How many forms have you, then?" "In earnest only one," replied I; "in sport as many as you like." "Which sport I will not spoil," smiled she; "go out behind the garden into the meadow until it strikes twelve, then come back, and I shall already have contrived the joke." I did so; but when I was beyond the hedges of the village gardens, and was going along the meadows, towards me some country people came by the footpath, and put me in some embarrassment. I therefore turned aside into a little wood, which crowned an elevation quite near, in order to conceal myself there till the appointed time. Yet how strangely did I feel when I entered it; for there appeared before me a neat place, with benches, from every one of which was a pretty view of the country. Here was the village and the steeple, here Drusenheim, and behind it the woody islands of the Rhine; in the opposite direction was the Vosgian mountain range, and at last the minster of Strasburg. These different heaven-bright pictures were set in bushy frames, so that one could see nothing more joyous and pleasing. I sat down upon one of the benches, and noticed on the largest tree an oblong little board with the inscription, "Frederica's Repose." It never occurred to me that I might have come to disturb this repose; for a budding passion has this beauty about it, that, as it is unconscious of its origin, neither can it have any thought of an end, nor, while it feels itself glad and cheerful, have any presentiment that it may also create mischief.

I had scarcely had time to look about me and was losing myself in sweet reveries, when I heard somebody coming; it was Frederica herself. "George, what are you doing here?" she cried from a distance. "Not George!" cried I, running towards her, "but one who craves forgiveness of you a thousand rimes." She looked at me with astonishment, but soon collected herself, and said, after fetching her breath more deeply, "You abominable man, how you frighten me!" "The first disguise has led me into the second," exclaimed I; "the former would have been unpardonable if I had only known in any degree to whom I was going; but this one you will certainly forgive, for it is the shape of persons whom you treat so kindly." Her pale cheeks had coloured up with the most beautiful rose-red. "You shall not be worse off than George, at any rate! But let us sit down! I confess the fright has gone into my limbs." I sat down beside her, exceedingly agitated. "We know everything already, up to this morning, from your friend," said she, "now do you tell me the rest." I did not let her say that twice, but described to her my horror at my yesterday's figure, and my rushing out of the house, so comically, that she laughed heartily and graciously; then I went on to what followed, with all modesty, indeed, yet passionately enough, so that it might have passed for a declaration of love in historical form. At last I solemnized my pleasure at finding her again, by a kiss upon her hand, which she suffered to remain in mine. If she had taken upon herself the expense of the conversation during yesterday evening's moonlight walk, I now, on my part, richly repaid the debt. The pleasure of seeing her again, and being able to say to her everything that I had yesterday kept back, was so great that, in my eloquence, I did not remark how meditative and silent she was. Once more she deeply fetched her breath, and over and over again I begged her forgiveness for the fright which I had caused her. How long we may have sat I know not; but at once we heard some one call. It was the voice of her sister. "That will be a pretty story," said the dear girl, restored to her perfect cheerfulness; "she is coming hither on my side," she added, bending so as half to conceal me; "turn yourself away, so that you may not be recognised at once." The sister entered the place, but not alone; Weyland was with her, and both, when they saw us, stood still, as if petrified.

If we should all at once see a flame burst out violently from a quiet roof, or should meet a monster whose deformity was at the same time revolting and fearful, we should not be struck with such a fierce horror as that which seizes us when, unexpectedly, we see with our own eyes what we have believed morally impossible. "What is this?" cried the elder, with the rapidity of one who is frightened; "what is this? you with George, hand-in-hand! How am I to understand this?" "Dear sister," replied Frederica, very doubtfully, "the poor fellow, – he is begging something of me; he has something to beg of you, too, but you must forgive him beforehand." "I do not understand – I do not comprehend – " said her sister, shaking her head and looking at Weyland, who, in his quiet way, stood by in perfect tranquillity, and contemplated the scene without any kind of expression. Frederica arose and drew me after her. "No hesitating!" cried she; "pardon begged and granted!" "Now do!" said I, stepping pretty near the elder; "I have need of pardon!" She drew back, gave a loud shriek, and was covered with blushes; she then threw herself down on the grass, laughed immoderately, and seemed as if she would never have done. Weyland smiled as if pleased, and cried, "You are a rare youth!" Then he shook my hand in his. He was not usually liberal with his caresses, but his shake of the hand had something hearty and enlivening about it; yet he was sparing of this also.

After somewhat recovering and collecting ourselves, we set out on our return to the village. On the way I learned how this singular meeting had been occasioned. Frederica had at last parted from the promenaders to rest herself in her little nook for a moment before dinner, and when the other two came back to the house, the mother had sent them to call Frederica with as great haste as possible, because dinner was ready.

The elder sister manifested the most extravagant delight, and when she learned that the mother had already discovered the secret, she exclaimed, "Now we have still to deceive my father, my brother, the servant-man and the maid." When we were at the garden-hedge, Frederica insisted upon going first into the house with my friend. The maid was busy in the kitchen-garden, and Olivia (so let the elder sister be named here) called out to her, "Stop; I have something to tell you!" She left me standing by the hedge, and went to the maid. I saw that they were speaking very earnestly. Olivia represented to her that George had quarrelled with Barbara, and seemed desirous of marrying her. The lass was not displeased at this; I was now called, and was to confirm what had been said. The pretty, stout girl cast down her eyes, and remained so until I stood quite near before her. But when, all at once, she perceived the strange face, she too gave a loud scream and ran away. Olivia bade me run after her and hold her fast, so that she should not get into the house and make a noise; while she herself wished to go and see how it was with her father. On the way Olivia met the servant-boy, who was in love with the maid; I had in the mean time hurried after the maid, and held her fast. "Only think! what good luck!" cried Olivia; "it's all over with Barbara, and George marries Liese." "That I have thought for a long while," said the good fellow, and remained standing in an ill-humour.

Goethe's Disguise.

I had given the maid to understand that all we had to do was to deceive the father. We went up to the lad, who turned away and tried to withdraw; but Liese brought him back, and he, too, when he was undeceived, made the most extraordinary gestures. We went together to the house. The table was covered, and the father was already in the room. Olivia, who kept me behind her, stepped to the threshold and said, "Father, have you any objection to George dining with us today? but you must let him keep his hat on." "With all my heart!" said the old man, "but why such an unusual thing? Has he hurt himself?" She led me forward as I stood with my hat on. "No!" said she, leading me into the room, "but he has a bird-cage under it, and the birds might fly out and make a terrible fuss; for there are nothing but wild ones." The father was pleased with the joke, without precisely knowing what it meant. At this instant she took off my hat, made a scrape, and required me to do the same. The old man looked at me and recognised me, but was not put out of his priestly self-possession. "Aye, aye, Mr. Candidate!" exclaimed he, raising a threatening finger at me; "you have changed saddles very quickly, and in the night I have lost an assistant, who yesterday promised me so faithfully that he would often mount my pulpit on week-days." He then laughed heartily, bade me welcome, and we sat down to table. Moses came in much later; for, as the youngest spoiled child, he had accustomed himself not to hear the dinner-bell. Besides, he took very little notice of the company, scarcely even when he contradicted them. In order to be more sure of him, they had placed me, not between the sisters, but at the end of the table, where George often used to sit. As he came in at the door behind me, he slapped me smartly on the shoulder, and said, "Good dinner to you, George!" "Many thanks, squire!" replied I. The strange voice and the strange face startled him. "What say you?" cried Olivia; "does he not look very like his brother?" "Yes, from behind," replied Moses, who managed to recover his composure immediately, "like all folks." He did not look at me again, and merely busied himself with zealously devouring the dishes, to make up for lost time. Then, too, he thought proper to rise on occasion and find something to do in the yard and the garden. At the dessert the real George came in, and made the whole scene still more lively. They began to banter him for his jealousy, and would not praise him for getting rid of a rival in me; but he was modest and clever enough, and, in a half-confused manner, mixed up himself, his sweetheart, his counterpart, and the Mamsells with each other, to such a degree, that at last nobody could tell about whom he was talking, and they were but too glad to let him consume in peace a glass of wine and a bit of his own cake.

The "New Melusina."

At table there was some talk about going to walk; which, however, did not suit me very well in my peasant's clothes. But the ladies, early on that day already, when they learned who had run away in such a desperate hurry, had remembered that a fine hunting-coat (Pekesche) of a cousin of theirs, in which, when there, he used to go sporting, was hanging in the clothes-press. I, however, declined it, externally with all sorts of jokes, but internally with a feeling of vanity, not wishing, as the cousin, to disturb the good impression I had made as the peasant. The father had gone to take his afternoon-nap; the mother, as always, was busy about her housewifery. But my friend proposed that I should tell them some story, to which I immediately agreed. We went into a spacious arbour, and I gave them a tale which I have since written out under the title of The New Melusina.44 It bears about the same relation to The New Paris as the youth bears to the boy, and I would insert it here, were I not afraid of injuring, by odd plays of fancy, the rural reality and simplicity which here agreeably surround us. Enough: I succeeded in gaining the reward of the inventors and narrators of such productions, namely, in awakening curiosity, in fixing the attention, in provoking overhasty solutions of impenetrable riddles, in deceiving expectations, in confusing by the more wonderful which came into the place of the wonderful, in arousing sympathy and fear, in causing anxiety, in moving, and at last, by the change of what was apparently earnest into an ingenious and cheerful jest, in satisfying the mind, and in leaving the imagination materials for new images, and the understanding materials for further reflection.

Should any one hereafter read this tale in print, and doubt whether it could have produced such an effect, let him remember that, properly speaking, man is only called upon to act in the present. Writing is an abuse of language, reading silently to oneself is a pitiful substitute for speech. Man effects all he can upon man by his personality, youth is most powerful upon youth, and hence also arise the purest influences. It is these which enliven the world, and allow it neither morally nor physically to perish. I had inherited from my father a certain didactic loquacity: from my mother the faculty of representing, clearly and forcibly, everything that the imagination can produce or grasp, of giving a freshness to known stories, of inventing and relating others, nay, of inventing in the course of narration. By my paternal endowment I was for the most part annoying to the company; for who likes to listen to the opinions and sentiments of another, especially a youth, whose judgment, from defective experience, always seems insufficient? My mother, on the contrary, had thoroughly qualified me for social conversation. The emptiest tale has in itself a high charm for the imagination, and the smallest quantity of solid matter is thankfully received by the understanding.

By such recitals, which cost me nothing, I made myself beloved by children, excited and delighted youth, and drew upon myself the attention of older persons. But in society, such as it commonly is, I was soon obliged to stop these exercises, and I have thereby lost but too much of the enjoyment of life and of free mental advancement. Nevertheless both these parental gifts accompanied me throughout my whole life, united with a third, namely, the necessity of expressing myself figuratively and by comparisons. In consideration of these peculiarities, which the acute and ingenious Doctor Gall discovered in me according to his theory, he assured me that I was, properly speaking, born for a popular orator. At this disclosure I was not a little alarmed; for if it had been here well founded, everything that I undertook would have proved a failure, from the fact that with my nation there was nothing to harangue about.

PART THE THIRD

CARE IS TAKEN THAT TREES DO NOT GROW INTO THE SKY

ELEVENTH BOOK

Frederica (continued)– Return from Strasbourg

After I had, in that bower of Sesenheim, finished my tale, in which the ordinary and the impossible were so agreeably alternated, I perceived that my hearers, who had already shown peculiar sympathy, were now enchanted in the highest degree by my singular narrative. They pressed me urgently to write down the tale, that they might often repeat it by reading it among themselves, and to others. I promised this the more willingly, as I thus hoped to gain a pretext for repeating my visit, and for an opportunity of forming a closer connexion. The party separated for a moment, and all were inclined to feel that after a day spent in so lively a manner, the evening might fall rather flat. From this anxiety I was freed by my friend, who asked permission to take leave at once, in the name of us both, because, as an industrious academical citizen, regular in his studies, he wished to pass the night at Drusenheim, and to be early in the morning at Strasburg.

We both reached our night-quarters in silence; I, because I felt a grapple on my heart, which drew me back; he, because he had something else on his mind, which he told me as soon as we had arrived. "It is strange," he began, "that you should just hit upon this tale. Did not you remark that it made quite a peculiar impression?" "Nay," answered I, "how could I help observing that the elder one laughed more than was consistent at certain passages, that the younger one shook her head, that all of you looked significantly at each other, and that you yourself were nearly put out of countenance. I do not deny that I almost felt embarrassed myself, for it struck me that it was perhaps improper to tell the dear girls a parcel of stuff, of which they had better been ignorant, and to give them such a bad opinion of the male sex as they must naturally have formed from the character of the hero." "You have not hit it at all," said he, "and, indeed, how should you? These dear girls are not so unacquainted with such matters as you imagine, for the great society around them gives occasion for many reflections; and there happens to be, on the other side of the Rhine, exactly such a married pair as you describe, allowing a little for fancy and exaggeration; the husband just as tall, sturdy, and heavy, – the wife so pretty and dainty, that he could easily hold her in his hand. Their mutual position in other respects, their history altogether, so exactly accords with your tale, that the girls seriously asked me whether you knew the persons, and described them in jest. I assured them that you did not, and you will do well to let the tale remain unwritten. With the assistance of delays and pretexts, we may soon find an excuse."

I was much astonished, for I had thought of no couple on this or the other side of the Rhine; nay, I could not have stated how I came by the notion. In thought I liked to sport with such pleasantries, without any particular reference, and I believed that if I narrated them, it would be the same with others.

When I returned to my occupations in the city, I felt them more than usually wearisome, for a man born to activity forms plans too extensive for his capacity, and overburdens himself with labour. This goes on very well till some physical or moral impediment comes in the way, and clearly shows the disproportion of the powers to the undertaking.

Return to Strasburg.

I pursued jurisprudence with as much diligence as was required to take my degree with some credit. Medicine charmed me, because it showed nature, if it did not unfold it on every side; and to this I was attached by intercourse and habit. To society I was obliged to devote some time and attention; for in many families I had fallen in for much both of love and honour. All this might have been carried on, had not that which Herder had inculcated pressed upon me with an infinite weight. He had torn down the curtain which concealed from me the poverty of German literature; he had ruthlessly destroyed so many of my prejudices; in the sky of my fatherland there were few stars of importance left, when he had treated all the rest as so many transient candle-snuffs; nay, my own hopes and fancies respecting myself he had so spoiled, that I began to doubt my own capabilities. At the same time, however, he dragged me on to the noble broad way which he himself was inclined to tread, drew my attention to his favourite authors, at the head of whom stood Swift and Hamann, and shook me up with more force than he had bound me down. To this manifold confusion was now added an incipient passion, which, while it threatened to absorb me, might indeed draw me from other relations, but could scarcely elevate me above them. Then came besides, a corporeal malady, which made me feel after dinner as if my throat was closed up, and of which I did not easily get rid, till afterwards, when I abstained from a certain red wine, which I generally and very willingly drank in the boarding-house. This intolerable inconvenience had quitted me at Sesenheim, so that I felt double pleasure in being there, but when I came back to my town-diet it returned, to my great annoyance. All this made me thoughful and morose; and my outward appearance probably corresponded with my inward feelings.

Being in a worse humour than ever, because the malady was violent after dinner, I attended the clinical lecture. The great care and cheerfulness with which our respected instructor led us from bed to bed, the minute observation of important symptoms, the judgment of the cause of complaint in general, the fine Hippocratic mode of proceeding, by which, without theory, and out of an individual experience, the forms of knowledge revealed themselves, the addresses with which he usually crowned his lectures – all this attracted me towards him, and made a strange department, into which I only looked as through a crevice, so much the more agreeable and fascinating. My disgust at the invalids gradually decreased, as I learned to change their various states into distinct conceptions, by which recovery and the restoration of the human form and nature appeared possible. He probably had his eye particularly upon me, as a singular young man, and pardoned the strange anomaly which took me to his lectures. On this occasion he did not conclude his lecture, as usual, with a doctrine which might have reference to an illness that had been observed, but said cheerfully, "Gentlemen, there are some holidays before us; make use of them to enliven your spirits. Studies must not only be pursued with seriousness and diligence, but also with cheerfulness and freedom of mind. Give movement to your bodies, and traverse the beautiful country on horse and foot. He who is at home will take delight in that to which he has been accustomed, while for the stranger there will be new impressions, and pleasant reminiscences in future."