The Autobiography of Goethe

An universal fault, of which men are guilty in their under-takings, was the first and perpetual fundamental defect of the Imperial Chamber: insufficient means were applied to a great end. The number of the assessors was too small. How was the difficult and extensive problem to be solved by them? But who could urge an efficient arrangement? The emperor could not favour an institution which seemed to work more against him than for him; far more reason had he to complete the formation of his own court – his own council. If, on the other hand, we regard the interest of the estates, all that they could properly have to do with was the stoppage of bloodshed. Whether the wound was healed, did not so much concern them: and now there was to be, besides, a new expense. It may not have been quite plainly seen that by this institution every prince increased his retinue, for a decided end indeed, – but who readily gives money for what is necessary? Every one would be satisfied, if he could have what is useful "for God's sake."

At first the assistants were to live on fees; then followed a moderate grant from the estates; both were scanty. But to meet the great and striking exigency, willing, clever, and industrious men were found, and the court was established. Whether it was perceived that the question here was concerning only the alleviation and not the cure of the evil, or whether, as in similar cases, the flattering hope was entertained that much was to be done with little, is not to be decided. It is enough that the court served rather as a pretext to punish the originators of mischief, than completely to prevent wrong. But it has scarcely met, than a power grows out of itself; it feels the eminence on which it is placed; it recognises its own great political importance. It now endeavours, by a striking activity, to acquire for itself a more decided respect; they briskly got through what can and must be rapidly dispatched, what can be decided at the moment, or what can otherwise be easily judged; and thus, throughout the empire, they appear effective and dignified. On the other hand, matters of weightier import, the law-suits, properly so called, remained behindhand, and this was no misfortune. The only concern of the state is, that possession shall be certain and secure; whether it is also legal, is of less consequence. Hence, from the monstrous and ever-swelling number of delayed suits, no mischief arose to the empire. Against people who employed force, provision was already made, and with such matters could be settled; but those, on the other hand, who legally disputed about possession, lived, enjoyed, or starved, as they could; they died, were ruined, or made it up; but all this was the good or evil of individual families, – the empire was gradually tranquillised. For the Imperial Chamber was endowed with a legal club-law against the disobedient; had it been able to hurl the bolt of excommunication, this would have been more effective.

But now, what with the sometimes increased, sometimes diminished number of assessors, what with the many interruptions, what with the removal of the court from one place to another, these arrears, these records necessarily increased to an infinite extent. Now, in the distress of war, a part of the archives was sent for safety from Spire to Aschaffenburg, a part to Worms, the third fell into the hands of the French, who thought they had gained the state-archives, but would afterwards have been glad to get rid of such a chaos of paper, if any one would but have furnished the carriages.

During the negotiations for the peace of Westphalia, the chosen men, who were assembled, plainly saw what sort of a lever was required to move from its place a load like that of Sisyphus. Fifty assessors were now to be appointed, but the number was never made up: the half of it was again made to suffice, because the expense appeared too great; but if the parties interested had all seen their advantage in the matter, the whole might well have been afforded. To pay five-and-twenty assessors about one hundred thousand florins (gulden) were required, and how easily could double that amount have been raised in Germany? The proposition to endow the Imperial Chamber with confiscated church property could not pass, for how could the two religious parties agree to such a sacrifice? The Catholics were not willing to lose any more, and the Protestants wished to employ what they had gained, each for his own private ends. The division of the empire into two religious parties had here, in several respects, the worst influence. The interest which the estates took in this their court diminished more and more; the more powerful wished to free themselves from the confederation; licenses exempting their possessor from being prosecuted before any higher tribunal were sought with more and more eagerness; the greater kept back with their payments, while the lesser, who, moreover, believed themselves wronged in the estimates, delayed as long as they could.

How difficult was it, therefore, to raise the supplies necessary for payment. Hence arose a new occupation, a new loss of time for the chamber; previously the so-called annual "visitations" had taken care of this matter. Princes in person, or their councillors, went only for months or weeks to the place of the court, examined the state of the treasury, investigated the arrears, and undertook to get them in. At the same time, if anything was about to create an impediment in the course of law or the court, or any abuse to creep in, they were authorised to provide a remedy. The faults of the institution they were to discover and remove, but it was not till afterwards that the investigation and punishment of the personal crimes of its members became a part of their duty. But because parties engaged in litigation always like to extend their hopes a moment longer, and on this account always seek and appeal to higher authorities, so did these "visitators" become a court of revision, from which, at first in determined manifest cases, persons hoped to find restitution, but at last in all cases, delay and perpetuation of the controversy, to which the appeal to the Imperial diet, and the endeavour of the two religious parties, if not to outweigh each other, at any rate to preserve an equilibrium, contributed their part.

But if one considers what this court might have been without such obstacles, without such disturbing and destructive conditions, one cannot imagine it remarkable and important enough. Had it been supplied at the beginning with a sufficient number of persons, had a sufficient support been secured to them, the monstrous influence which this body might have attained, considering the aptness of the Germans, would have been immeasurable. The honourable title of "Amphictyons," which was only bestowed on them oratorically, they would actually have deserved, nay, they might have elevated themselves into an intermediate power, while revered by the head and the members.

But far removed from such great effects, the court, excepting for a short time under Charles V., and before the Thirty Years' war, dragged itself miserably along. One often cannot understand how men could be found for such a thankless and melancholy employment. But what a man does every day he puts up with, if he has any talent for it, even if he does not exactly see that anything will come of it. The German especially is of this persevering turn of mind, and thus for three hundred years the worthiest men have employed themselves on these labours and objects. A characteristic gallery of such figures would even now excite interest and inspire courage.

For it is just in such anarchical times that the able man takes the strongest position, and he who desires what is good finds himself right in his place. Thus, for instance, the Directorium of Fürstenberg was still held in blessed memory, and with the death of this excellent man begins the epoch of many pernicious abuses.

But all these defects, whether later or earlier, arose from one only original source, the small number of persons. It was decreed that the assistants were to act in a fixed order, and according to a determined arrangement. Every one could know when the turn would come to him, and which of the cases belonging to him it would affect; he could work up to this point, – he could prepare himself. But now the innumerable arrears had heaped themselves up, and they were forced to resolve to select the more important cases, and to deal with them out of order. But with a pressure of important affairs, the decision as to which matter has the more weight, is difficult, and selection leaves room for favour. Now, another critical case occurred. The Referent tormented both himself and the court with a difficult involved affair, and at last no one was found willing to take up the judgment. The parties had come to an agreement, had separated, had died, had changed their minds. Hence they resolved to take in hand only the cases of which they were reminded. They wished to be convinced of the continued obstinacy of the parties, and hence was given an introduction to the greatest defects, for he who commends his affairs, must commend them to somebody, and to whom can one commend them better, than to him who has them already in his hands? To keep this one regularly secret was impossible; for how could he remain concealed with so many subordinates, all acquainted with the matter? If acceleration is requested, favour may well be requested likewise, for the very fact that people urge their cause, shows that they consider it just. This will perhaps not be done in a direct manner, certainly it will be first done through subordinates; these must be gained over, and thus an introduction is given to all sorts of intrigues and briberies.

The Emperor Joseph, following his own impulse, and in imitation of Frederic, first directed his attention to arms and the administration of justice. He cast his eyes upon the Imperial Chamber; traditional wrongs, introduced abuses had not remained unknown to him. Even here something was to be stirred up, shaken, and done. Without inquiring whether it was his imperial right, without foreseeing the possibility of a happy result, he proposed a revival of the "visitation," and hastened its opening. For one hundred and sixty years no regular "visitation" had taken place; a monstrous chaos of papers lay swelled up and increased every year, since the seventeen assessors were not even able to despatch the current business. Twenty thousand processes were heaped up; sixty could be settled every year, and double that number was brought forward. Besides, it was not a small number of revisions that awaited the "visitators," – they were estimated at fifty thousand. Many other abuses, in addition to this, hindered the course of justice; but the most critical matter of all was the personal delinquency of some assessors, which appeared in the background.

The "visitation" at Wetzlar.

When I was about to go to Wetzlar, the "visitation" had been already for some years in operation, the parties accused had been suspended from office, the investigation had been carried a long way; and because the masters and commissioners of German political law could not let pass this opportunity of exhibiting their sagacity and devoting it to the common weal, several profound, well-designed works appeared, from which every one, who possessed only some preparatory knowledge, could derive solid instruction. When on this occasion they went back into the constitution of the empire and the books written upon it, it was striking to me how the monstrous condition of this thoroughly diseased body, which was kept alive by a miracle alone, was the very thing that most suited the learned. For the venerable German industry, which was more directed to the collection and development of details than to results, found here an inexhaustible impulse to new employment, and whether the empire was opposed to the Emperor, the lesser to the greater estates, or the Catholics to the Protestants, there was necessarily always, according to the diversity of interest, a diversity of opinion, and always an occasion for new contests and controversies.

Since I had rendered all these older and newer circumstances as present to my mind as possible, it was impossible for me to promise myself much pleasure from my abode at Wetzlar. The prospect of finding in a city, which was indeed well situated, but small and ill-built, a double world; first the domestic, old traditional world, then a foreign new one, authorized to scrutinize the other with severity, – a judging and a judged tribunal; many an inhabitant in fear and anxiety, lest he might also be drawn into the impending investigation; persons of consideration, long held in respect, convicted of the most scandalous misdeeds, and marked out for disgraceful punishment; – all this together made the most dismal picture, and could not lure me to go deeper into a business, which, involved in itself, seemed so much perplexed by wrong.

That, excepting the German civil and public law, I should find nothing remarkable in the scientific way, that I should be without all poetical communication, I thought I could foresee, when, after some delay, the desire of altering my situation more than impulse to knowledge led me to this spot. But how surprised I was, when, instead of a crabbed society, a third academical life sprang towards me. At a large table d'hôte I found a number of young lively people, nearly all subordinates to the commission; they gave me a friendly reception, and the very first day it remained no secret to me that they had cheered their noon-meetings by a romantic fiction. With much wit and cheerfulness they represented a table of knights. At the top sat the grand-master, by his side the chancellor, then the most important officers of the state; now followed the knights, according to their seniority. Strangers, on the other hand, who visited, were forced to be content with the lowest places, and to these the conversation was almost unintelligible, because the language of the society, in addition to the chivalric expressions, was enriched with many allusions. To every one a name with an epithet was assigned. Me they called "Götz von Berlichingen the honest." The former I earned by the attention to the gallant German patriarch, the latter by my upright affection and devotion for the eminent men with whom I became acquainted. To the Count von Kielmannsegg I was much indebted during this residence. He was the most serious of all, highly clever, and to be relied on. There was Von Goué, a man hard to be deciphered and described, a blunt, kind, quietly reserved Hanoverian figure. He was not wanting in talent of various kinds. It was conjectured concerning him that he was a natural son; he loved, besides, a certain mysterious deportment, and concealed his most peculiar wishes and plans under various eccentricities, as indeed he was, properly speaking, the very soul of the odd confederation of knights, without having striven to attain the post of grand-master. On the contrary, when, just at this time, the head of the knighthood departed, he caused another to be elected, and through him exercised his influence. Thus he managed so to direct several little trifles, that they appeared of importance, and could be carried out in mythical forms. But with all this no serious purpose could be remarked in him, – he was only concerned to get rid of the tedium which he and his colleagues, during their protracted occupation, necessarily felt, and to fill up the empty space, if only with cobwebs. For the rest, this mythical caricature was carried on with great external seriousness, and no one found it ridiculous if a certain mill was treated as a castle, and the miller as lord of the fortress, if the "Four Sons of Haimon" was declared a canonical book, and on the occasion of ceremonies, extracts from it were read with veneration. The dubbing of knights took place with traditional symbols, borrowed from several orders of knighthood. A chief motive for jest was the fact, that what was manifest was treated as a secret; the affair was carried on publicly, and yet nothing was to be said about it. The list of the whole body of knights was printed with as much importance as a calendar of the Imperial diet, and if families ventured to scoff at this, and to declare the whole matter absurd and ridiculous, they were punished by an intrigue being carried on until a solemn husband or near relation was induced to join the company and to be dubbed a knight; for then there was a splendid burst of malicious joy at the annoyance of the connexions.

Whimsical Societies at Wetzlar.

Into this chivalric state of existence another strange order had insinuated itself, which was to be philosophical and mystical, and had no name of its own. The first degree was called the "Transition," the second the "Transition's transition," the third the "Transition's transition to the transition," and the fourth the "Transition's transition to the transition's transition." To interpret the high sense of this series of degrees was now the duty of the initiated, and this was done according to the standard of a little printed book, in which these strange words were explained, or rather amplified, in a manner still more strange. Occupation with these things was the most desirable pastime. The folly of Behrisch and the perversity of Lenz seemed here to have united themselves; I only repeat that not a trace of purpose was to be found behind these veils.

Although I very readily took part in such fooleries, had first brought into order the extracts from "The Four Sons of Haimon," made proposals how they should be read on feasts and solemn occasions, and even understood how to deliver them myself with great emphasis, I had, nevertheless, grown weary of such things before, and therefore as I missed my Frankfort and Darmstadt circles, I was highly pleased to have found Gotter, who attached himself to me with honest affection, and to whom I showed in return a hearty good-will. His turn of mind was delicate, clear, and cheerful, his talents were practised and well regulated, he aimed at French elegance, and was pleased with that part of English literature which is occupied with moral and agreeable subjects. We passed together many pleasant hours, in which we communicated to each other our knowledge, plans, and inclinations. He excited me to many little works, especially as, being in connexion with the people of Göttingen, he desired some of my poems for Boie's Almanach.

I thus came into contact with those, who, young and hill of talent, held themselves together, and afterwards effected so much and in such various ways. The two Counts Stolberg, Bürger, Voss, Hölty, and others were assembled in faith and spirit around Klopstock, whose influence extended in every direction. In such a poetical circle, which more and more extended itself, was developed at the same time with such manifold poetical merits, another turn of mind, to which I can give no exactly proper name. It might be called the need of independence, which always arises in time of peace, and exactly when, properly speaking, one is not dependent. In war we bear the rude force as well as we can, we feel ourselves physically and economically, but not morally, wounded; the constraint shames no one, and it is no disgraceful service to serve the time; we accustom ourselves to suffer from foes and friends; we have wishes, but no particular views. In peace, on the contrary, man's love of freedom becomes more and more prominent, and the more free one is, the more free one wishes to be. We will not tolerate anything over us; we will not be restrained, no one shall be restrained; and this tender, nay, morbid feeling, appears in noble souls under the form of justice. This spirit and feeling then showed itself everywhere, and just because few were oppressed, it was wished to free even these from temporary oppression, and thus arose a certain moral feud, a mixture of individuals with the government, which, with laudable beginnings, led to inevitably unfortunate results.

Difficulty of German patriotism.

Voltaire, by the protection which he had bestowed on the family of Calas, had excited great attention and made himself respected. In Germany the attempt of Lavater against the Landvogt (sheriff of the province) had been almost more striking and important. The æsthetical feeling, united with youthful courage, strove forward, and as, shortly before, persons had studied to obtain offices, they now began to act as overlookers of those in office; and the time was near when the dramatist and novelist loved best to seek their villains among ministers and official persons. Hence arose a world, half real, half imaginary, of action and reaction, in which we afterwards lived to see the most violent imputations and instigations, which the writers of periodical publications and journals with a sort of passion allowed themselves under the garb of justice, and went to work the more irresistibly, as they made the public believe that it was itself the true tribunal – a foolish notion, as no public has an executive power, and in dismembered Germany public opinion neither benefited nor injured any one.

Among us young people there was indeed nothing to be traced, which could have been culpable, but a certain similar notion, composed of poetry, morality, and a noble striving, and which was harmless but yet fruitless, had taken possession of us.

By his Hermann's-Schlacht,56 and the dedication of it to Joseph the Second, Klopstock had produced a wonderful excitement. The Germans who freed themselves from Roman oppression were nobly and powerfully represented, and this picture was well suited to awaken the self-feeling of a nation. But because in peace patriotism really consists only in this, that every one sweeps his own door, minds his own business, and learns his own lesson, that it may go well with his house, – so did the feeling for fatherland, excited by Klopstock, find no object on which it could exercise itself. Frederic had saved the honour of one part of the Germans against an united world, and every member of the nation, by applause and reverence of this great prince, was allowed to share in his victory; but what was to come of this excited, warlike spirit of defiance? what direction should it take, and what effect produce? At first it was merely a poetical form, and the songs ridiculous, were accumulated through this impulse, – this incitement. There were no external enemies to fight; so people made tyrants for themselves, and for this purpose princes and their servants were obliged to bestow their figures, first only in general outline, but gradually with particulars. Here it was that poetry attached itself with vehemence to that interference with the administration of justice, which is blamed above; and it is remarkable to see poems of that time written in a spirit by which everything of a higher order, whether monarchical or aristocratic, is abolished.

For my own part, I continued to make poetry the expression of my own whims and feelings. Little poems like the "Wanderer" belong to this time; they were inserted in the Göttingen Musenalmanach. But from whatever of the above-mentioned mania had worked itself into me, I shortly endeavoured to free myself in Götz von Berlichingen, since I described how in disordered times this brave, well-thinking man resolves to take the place of the law and the executive power, but is in despair when, to the supreme authority, which he recognises and reveres, he appears in an equivocal light, and even rebellious.

By Klopstock's odes, it was not so much the Northern mythology as the nomenclature of the divinities, that had been introduced into German poetry; and although I gladly made use of everything else that was offered me, I could not bring myself to use this, for the following causes: I had long become acquainted with the fables of the Edda, from the preface to Mallet's Danish History, and had at once made myself master of them. They belonged to those tales which, when asked by a company, I most willingly related. Herder put Resenius into my hands, and made me better acquainted with the heroic sagas. But all these things, worthy as I held them, I could not bring within the circle of my own poetic faculty. Nobly as they excited my imagination, they nevertheless entirely withdrew themselves from the sensuous perception, while the mythology of the Greeks, changed by the greatest artists in the world into visible, easily imagined forms, still existed before our own eyes in abundance. Gods in general I did not allow' often to appear, because, at all events, they had their abode out of the Nature, which I understood how to imitate. What now could have induced to substitute Woden for Jupiter, and Thor for Mars, and instead of the Southern, accurately described figures, to introduce forms of mist, nay, mere verbal sounds, into my poems? On the one side, they were related to the equally formless heroes of Ossian, only they were ruder and more gigantic; on the other, I brought them into contact with the cheerful tale; for the humoristic vein which runs through the whole Northern mythus, was to me highly pleasing and remarkable. It appeared to me the only one which jests with itself throughout, – wondrous giants, magicians, and monsters opposed to an odd dynasty of gods, and only occupied in leading astray and deriding the highest persons during their government, while they threaten them, besides, with disgraceful and inevitable destruction.