/ 
 
WILHELM MINISTER'S 
 APPRENTICESHIP 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 FROM THE GERMAN OF 
 
 GOETHE 
 
 < 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 R. DILLON BOYLAN ESQ. 
 
 COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME 
 
 LONDON 
 
 BELL & DALDY, 6, YORK STREET, GO VENT GARDEN, 
 AND 1 86, FLEET STREET. 
 
 1867. 
 
LONDON: FKINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWBfl 4ND SOXS, STAMFORD STKKKT. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IT has been observed, by a very profound German critic,* that 
 the periods of Goethe's outward life are most intimately connected 
 with the eras of his literary career; and they are generally divided 
 into three principal periods, which have been designated as the 
 sentimental and intense, the ideal, and the elegant. In the former, 
 Goetz von Berlichingen and Werther are the chief illustrations 
 of his genius ; and in those two works, Goethe found means to 
 gratify his strongest youthful propensities the one, for German 
 things and manners ; the other, for the delineation of joys and 
 sorrows, common to humanity, which agitated his bosom. The 
 character of his works, at this period, was national, full of that 
 German spirit, for which Lessing fought so manfully, and which 
 Goethe expressed with matchless felicity. 
 
 Between the first and second eras of his literary career, an 
 interval of twelve years elapsed, during which he produced nothing 
 very considerable, but it was, at this time, that he visited Italy. 
 If, as it has been said, his taste had previously inclined to the 
 Flemish school, it was after his visit to Italy that his eyes opened 
 to the full perception of high art. His rich and fertile spirit, 
 which embraced at once the Lofty, the Child-like, and the Lovely, 
 now turned to the Noble and the Elevated. In place of his former 
 principle of naturalness or reality, now arose that of Ideality 
 that pure Ideality which transports nature into the regions of Idea 
 and pure Beauty. The three great works which fall within this 
 era, are William Meister, Faust, and Hermann and Dorothea. 
 
 What Goethe really intended by the first of these performances 
 must remain, to some degree, a mystery. Nevertheless, Wilhelm 
 Meister must ever be considered as one of the Author's most 
 
 * The writer of the article GoetJiein the Conversations-Lexicon^ elegantly 
 presented to the English public by Mrs. Austin, in her ' Characteristics of 
 Goethe.' 
 
 643233 
 
IV PBEFACE. 
 
 admirable works, for in that and Faust are combined all the 
 universality of his genius. If, with reference to Goethe himself, 
 we compare Werther with Wilhelm Meister, we shall see, that in 
 the former he is still wrestling with life and destiny ; in the 
 latter, that he has vanquished them, and has found the remedy 
 for evil, in the harmonious culture of his moral Being-. 
 
 Those who read Wilhelm Meister for the mere attractions of 
 incident, character, or description, will probably be disappointed 
 in their expectations. But it will be found full of interest to him 
 who considers it as deciphering, according to the Author's 
 adopted conclusion, the riddle of human life, who loves to pursue 
 the workings of his mind, to track the strange, enigmatical, 
 tortuous wanderings of his genius, or to engage in the ever-baffled, 
 yet attractive chuse after his meaning, through the labyrinth of 
 his flowing style, and multifarious imagery. The appearance of 
 Wilhelm Meister gave rise to a species of novel, which had pre- 
 viously been unknown in Germany, but has since very generally 
 prevailed, not only in that country, but in England and elsewhere. 
 The Author takes up a fictitious or historical personage, and in 
 the narrative of his life, in accordance with his own views and 
 maxims, gradually developes the peculiar art, to which his hero 
 has devoted himself. But Wilhelm Meister went somewhat 
 beyond the sphere of such imaginary portraits. It could not have 
 been the mere design of the Author, to describe the progress of a 
 youth in the dramatic art, although a large portion of the work 
 relates to the drama, for in the last four books that topic is 
 wholly dismissed, and another object is brought prominently 
 forward. We now acquire a faint perception of the Author's aim, 
 to describe the general growth and ripening of a youth of talent 
 into Man. His passion for the drama is only a transition state, 
 and brings no permanent satisfaction. His education for life, for 
 free and active exertiofc in a higher field, seems to be the true 
 end. 
 
 It follows from this indistinct enunciation of the Author's 
 meaning, that no book has been more generally misunderstood. 
 Some have rejected it, as an unintelligible treatise on metaphysics, 
 under the garb of an ill- arranged fiction, whilst others have 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 praised it extravagantly, as displaying a wonderful knowledge 
 of the actual world, and delineating a host of natural characters 
 and situations. The characters, however, may be considered 
 rather as personifications of distinct trains of thought, than as 
 real beings, such as we meet with in the world. On the whole, 
 it is a strange romance : it attracts us with an irresistible charm : 
 during the perusal, we seem to wander from one half-resolved 
 doubt to another, until, at the end of our pilgrimage, we begin to 
 suspect that the writer has been intentionally misleading us into 
 the belief that there exists some deep mystery in his pages. Al- 
 ternately attracted and repelled, we at last take refuge in the 
 conviction that our Author is one of the Inspired, a true 
 and original Genius, notwithstanding our inability to penetrate 
 his views, or to comprehend why he is at times so obscure and 
 unintelligible, and at others so profound. 
 
 We cannot conclude without bearing testimony to the merits 
 of Mr. Carlyle's admirable version of the Lehrjahre, which is so 
 faithful and vigorous, and altogether so satisfactory, that had Mr. 
 Bohn been at liberty to introduce it into his Standard Library, 
 there would have been no occasion for any other labourer in the 
 same field. 
 
 The Wander jahre of Goethe continues and concludes the career 
 of Wilhelm Meister. This work, which has never been presented 
 to the public in an English form, is in preparation as a sequel to 
 the present volume. 
 
 R. D. B. 
 
WILHELM MEISTER',8 
 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE performance lasted till a late hour. Old Barbara 
 went repeatedly to the window and listened for the rolling 
 of carriages. She was expecting Mariana, her pretty- 
 mistress, who dressed in the character of a young officer, 
 had charmed the public in that evening's performance, and 
 her impatience became greater than was usual on occasions 
 when she had only a plain supper to prepare. Mariana 
 was now to be surprised by a package, w r hich Norberg, a 
 rich young merchant, had forwarded by post, to afford 
 evidence that even in absence he thought of his love. 
 
 In the character of old servant, confidant, adviser, 
 manager and housekeeper, Barbara possessed the right of 
 breaking seals, and she was less able to resist her curiosity 
 this evening, as the favour of the generous lover was a 
 subject of greater anxiety to herself, even tha.n to 
 Mariana. To her extreme joy, she had found that the 
 package contained a fine piece of muslin and some ribbons 
 of the latest pattern for Mariana, together with a roll of 
 cotton, some neckhandkerchiefs, and an enclosure of money 
 for herself. With what tenderness and gratitude did she 
 not call to mind the absent Norberg, and thought only of 
 representing him to her mistress in the most favourable 
 light, of reminding her how deeply she was indebted to 
 him, and how much he was entitled to expect from her 
 constancy. 
 
 The muslin set off by the colours of the half unfolded 
 ribbons, lay like a Christmas present upon the little table, 
 
2 WILUELM MEISTER S 
 
 the position of the candles enhanced their brilliancy, and 
 evejy thing vra.s ready, wheii the old woman recognising 
 Mariaufr's foot upor, the ^t-iirs, hastened to meet her. 
 Ho\v great was her astonishment when the young female 
 officer, regardless of her caresses, hurried past her with 
 unusual speed and emotion, flung her hat and sword upon 
 the tablej and paced restlessly up and down the room, 
 without condescending to bestow even a glance upon the 
 festive illuminations. 
 
 " What is the matter, dear ?" exclaimed the old servant 
 with astonishment, "for Heaven's sake, what ails you, 
 child ? Behold these presents ! From whom can they 
 come, but from your most affectionate of friends ? Norberg 
 has sent you this piece of muslin for a night dress, he will 
 1.x; here presently himself, he seems to become fonder and 
 more generous than ever." 
 
 Old Barbara turned round and was about to show the 
 presents witli which she herself had been remembered, 
 when Mariana turning away from them exclaimed with 
 vehemence, " Away, away ! I will hear nothing of all this 
 to-day. I have listened to you because you wished it to 
 be so ! When Norberg returns, I am his, I am yours ! Do 
 with me what you will, but until then, I am my own, and 
 if you had a thousand tongues you should never persuade 
 me from my purpose. I will give myself wholly to him 
 who loves me, and whom I love. No grimaces ! I will 
 abandon myself to this passion as if it were to last for 
 ever." 
 
 Barbara was not deficient in remonstrances and reasons, 
 but when in the course of the dispute, she became violent 
 and bitter, Mariana sprang at her and clasped her firmly. 
 The old servant laughing aloud, exclaimed, " I must take 
 care that she resumes her female attire, if I mean to be sure 
 of my life. Come, strip ! I hope the girl will beg pardon 
 for what is inflicted on me by the wayward boy. Off then 
 with the coat off with every thing instantly ! It is an 
 unsuitable garb and dangerous for you, as I find to my cost. 
 These epaulets make you rash." 
 
 Barbara took hold uf her. Mariana disengaged herself. 
 "Not go fast!" she exclaimed, " I expect a visit to-night." 
 
 "That is not proper," replied the servant, "you do 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. O 
 
 not surely expect that ' tender fledgeling, the merchant's 
 son ! " " Even that same," returned Mariana. 
 
 " It seems that generosity is to be your ruling passion," 
 answered the old woman with malice. " You are taking 
 to minors arid pennyless people, with great eagerness. It is 
 no doubt charming to be worshipped as a disinterest id 
 benefactress." 
 
 "Sneer as you please," she interrupted, "I love him, I 
 love him ! With what rapture do I now utter this word for 
 the first time. This is the passion, which I have acted so 
 often, but of which in reality I have- had no conception. 
 Yes ! I will throw myself upon his neck, and embrace him 
 as if I were to hold him for ever. I will display all my 
 love and enjoy his in its full extent." 
 
 11 Be temperate," said Barbara calmly, " be temperate : I 
 must interrupt your rapture with an observation. Norberg 
 is coming. He will be here in a fortnight. Here is his 
 letter which accompanied the presents." 
 
 "And even," said Mariana, "if to-morrow's dawn were 
 to deprive me of my friend, I would conceal it from my 
 myself. A fortnight ! What an eternity ! In a fortnight 
 what may not occur ? What changes may happen !" 
 
 Wilhelm entered. She flew to meet him with anima- 
 tion, and with indescribable rapture he embraced the red 
 uniform and pressed the gentle wearer to his heart. But 
 who may venture to pourtray the happiness of two lovers ? 
 In whom would it seem becoming to describe the scene ? 
 Old Barbara went grumbling away. We shall retire with 
 her, and leave the happy pair alone. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHEN Wilhelm saluted his mother on the following 
 morning she informed him that his father was exceedingly 
 displeased, and intended to forbid in future his daily visit 
 to the theatre. " Although, I myself," she continued, 
 "frequently go thither with pleasure, I could often cxi-i-ratr 
 it, as my domestic happiness is destroyed by your immoderate 
 ion for that amusement. Your father constantly 
 
WILHELM MEISTEK S 
 
 1 of what use can it be ? How can any one so waste his 
 time?'" 
 
 " I have often been compelled to listen to him," replied 
 Wilhelm, " and have perhaps answered him too hastily. 
 But for heaven's sake, mother, is every thing useless which 
 does not put money in our purse, or fails to procure us some 
 desirable property ? Had we not room enough, for example, 
 in our old house ? And why was it necessary to build a 
 new one ? Does not my father every year devote a con- 
 siderable portion of the profits of his business to the deco- 
 ration of his apartments ? Are not these silken tapestries 
 and this English furniture likewise useless ? Could we not 
 be content with humbler necessaries ? At least I know 
 that these painted walls, these constantly recurring flowers, 
 garlands, baskets and figures produce a very disagreeable 
 effect upon me. They look to me exactly like our drop 
 scene at the theatre. But how different is the impression 
 when I sit before that ! Wait ever so long, we know at all 
 events that it must rise at last, and that we shall then be- 
 hold an infinite variety of objects to amuse, instruct and 
 elevate us." 
 
 " Only act with moderation," continued his mother ; 
 " your father himself enjoys evening amusements, but he 
 fancies that it distracts your attention, and in fine I have to 
 bear the blame, when he is angry. Often must I endure 
 his censure for that wretched puppet-show which I gave you 
 at Christmas, some twelve years ago, and which first gave 
 you a taste for theatricals." 
 
 " Do not blame the puppet-show," he replied, "do not 
 repent of your love and attention to me ! Those were the 
 first happy moments which I enjoyed in the new uninha- 
 bited house. I have the whole scene before my eyes this 
 very instant. I feel how strange it appeared to me, when 
 after the customary distribution of the Christmas presents, 
 we were desired to take our seats before a door which led 
 into an adjoining room. It opened, but not that we might 
 promenade to and fro as formerly ; the entrance was replete 
 with preparations for a festival. A high porch had been 
 erected which was concealed by a mysterious curtain. At 
 first we all stood at a distance, and as our curiosity increased 
 to discover what shining clattering articles were hidden 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. O 
 
 behind the half transparent covering, we were directed 
 each to take his seat and wait witli patience. 
 
 We all sat down and were silent, a whistle gave the 
 signal, the curtain rose aloft and discovered a view of the. 
 Temple, painted deep red. The high priest Samuel appeared 
 with Jonathan, and their strangely alternating voices 
 astonished me in the highest degree. Saul entered soon 
 afterwards, greatly perplexed at the impertinence of the 
 huge warrior who had challenged him and his host. 1 1 o\\ 
 overjoyed I felt when the diminutive son of Jesse stepped 
 forward with crook and shepherd's scrip and sling, ex- 
 claim in L r , ' Most mighty King and Sovereign Lord ! let the 
 courage of no one be depressed on this account. If your 
 Majesty will permit me, I am ready to go forth and en- 
 counter this mighty giant.' % The first act ended, and the 
 spectators were curious to know what farther would take 
 place, each one wishing that the music might soon cease. 
 At last the curtain rose again. David dedicated the carcase 
 of the monster to the birds of the air, and the beasts of the 
 field. The Philistine defied him, stamped vehemently with 
 both feet, and fell at last like a clod of earth, giving a fine 
 effect to the whole representation. How the virgins then 
 sang, ' Saul hath slain his thousands, but David his tens of 
 thousands !' The giant's head was carried before his little 
 conqueror and he received the King's daughter as his bride ; 
 but I felt vexed amid all my joy, that the successful prince 
 was such a dwarf. For pursuant to the common idea of the 
 great Goliath, and the little David, they had both been care- 
 fully constructed of characteristic dimensions. Tell me, I 
 beg of you, what has become of those puppets ? I have pro- 
 mised to shew them to a friend whom I have greatly de- 
 lighted lately by informing him of this child's sport." 
 
 " I am not surprised that you remember these things so 
 accurately, for you took the greatest interest in them at the 
 time. I recollect how you purloined the little book and 
 learned the whole piece by heart, I discovered it first one 
 evening when you formed a Goliath and David of wax, you 
 made them declaim against each other, and at last gave the 
 giant a blow and then fixed his shapeless head in the hand of 
 the little David, stuck upon a large pin with a waxen handle. 
 I enjoyed at the time BO much sincere maternal pleasure at 
 
6 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 your good memory and pathetic recitation that I at once 
 determined to present you with the whole wooden troop. I 
 had no idea then that it would occasion me so many sorrow- 
 ful hours." 
 
 " Do not repent of it," said Wilhelm, " for this entertain- 
 ment has afforded us many happy moments." With this, 
 he obtained the keys, hastened and found the puppets and 
 was for a moment transported back to those times, when 
 they appeared to him to have life, and when he fancied he 
 could animate them by the impulse of his voice and the 
 motion of his hands. He took them to his room and put 
 them by carefully. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 Ir first love be as I hear it generally asserted, the 
 most exquisite sensation which a heart can at any time 
 experience, then indeed we must account our hero trebly 
 happy that he was allowed to enjoy the rapture of this en- 
 chanting season in all its perfection. But few persons are 
 so peculiarly blest, since the greater number are led by 
 their earlier feelings through a school of rough experience, 
 in which after a period of uncertain happiness they are 
 compelled to renounce their fondest wishes and to learn 
 for ever to endure the privation of what once appeared to 
 be their highest bliss. 
 
 "Wilhelm' s love for this charming maiden soared high on 
 the wings of imagination ; after a short acquaintance he 
 had secured her attachment, and found himself in possession 
 of a being, whom he loved devotedly, even adored, for she 
 had first appeared to him in the favourable light of thea- 
 trical enchantment, and his passion for the stage was con- 
 nected with his first love for the sex. His youth allowed 
 him to enjoy every pleasure which had been exalted and 
 maintained by the liveliness of his fancy. And the very 
 condition of his mistress imparted a peculiarity to her 
 conduct which increased his attachment exceedingly. The 
 apprehension lest her lover might inopportunely discover 
 her other connexions, imparted to her an amiable ap- 
 pearance of timidity and bashfulness, her fondness for him 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 7 
 
 was undoubted, her very apprehensions appeared to increase 
 her affection, and she was the loveliest of creatures in his 
 arms. 
 
 "When he awoke from the first intoxication of joy and 
 looked back upon his life and circumstances, every tiring 
 appeared to him in a new light, his duties were holier, his 
 inclinations higher, his knowledge plainer, his talents 
 stronger, his intentions more decided. It was easy for him 
 therefore to adopt a plan to escape the reproaches of his 
 father, to tranquillize his mother, and to enjoy Mariana's 
 love without interruption. He was punctual in the dis- 
 charge of his daily duty, usually avoided the theatre, was 
 amusing at supper in the evening, and when all were in bed, 
 stole gently off, through the garden, enveloped in his man- 
 tle, and hastened to his love with all the feelings of Lindor 
 and Leander in his heart. 
 
 ' What do you bring with you ?" asked Mariana one 
 evening when he produced a package, which old Barbara 
 watched attentively, in hopes of receiving an agreeable 
 present. " You cannot guess," rejoined "Wilhelm. 
 
 Mariana was astonished and Barbara annoyed, when the 
 unfolded napkin displayed only a confused heap of puppets 
 a span long. Mariana laughed aloud when Wilhelm com- 
 menced to untwist the entangled wires and to display 
 each figure alone. Old Barbara retired in ill-humour. 
 
 A trifle is sufficient to amuse two lovers, and our friends 
 were therefore highly delighted this evening. The little 
 troop was assembled, each figure was examined attentively 
 and laughed at in succession. King Saul in his black velvet 
 gown and golden diadem did not please Mariana at all, 
 she said he looked too stiff and pedantic ; Jonathan pleased 
 her better, with his smooth chin, red and yellow robe and 
 turban. She soon learned skilfully to turn him on his wires, 
 to make him bow and pronounce declarations of love. But 
 she would not bestow the least attention upon the prophet 
 Samuel, although Wilhelm praised his little breastplate 1 , and 
 related how the taffeta of which his dress was composed, 
 had been taken from an old gown of his grandmother's. 
 David was too small and Goliath too large ; she held by 
 Jonathan. She could manage him so expertly, till at last she 
 began to transfer her caresses from the puppet to our friend, 
 
O WILHELM MEISTER S 
 
 and so again upon this occasion as heretofore a trifling 
 sport became the forerunner of happy hours. 
 
 They were awakened from the pleasures of their soft 
 dreams by a noise which arose in the street. Mariana 
 called to Barbara, who was busied as usual in preparing the 
 theatrical, wardrobe for the next performance. She stated 
 that a company of jovial companions were just then breaking 
 up from the Italian Tavern, close at hand, where over a 
 supper of fresh oysters, which had just arrived, the cham- 
 pagne had by no means been spared. 
 
 " What a pity !" said Mariana, " that it did not occur to 
 us sooner, we might have enjoyed ourselves." 
 
 " There is time enough yet," replied Wilhelm, as he gave 
 Barbara a louis d'or, " get us what we require, and you shall 
 share it with us." 
 
 The old lady stirred herself and in a short time a neat 
 table with a handsome collation stood before the lovers. 
 They made Barbara sit down with them, and they eat, 
 drank, and enjoyed themselves. 
 
 On such occasions, amusement never flags. Mariana 
 took up Jonathan again, and the old servant directed the 
 conversation to Wilhelm *s favourite topic. " You told us 
 once," she said, " about the first representation of a puppet 
 show on Christmas eve : it was a pleasant story. You 
 were interrupted just as the ballet was about to commence. 
 We now know the company which produced such wonderful 
 effects." 
 
 " O, yes !" said Mariana ; " So tell us again how you were 
 amused." 
 
 " It is a delightful sensation, dear Mariana," said 
 Wilhelm, " to remember by-gone times and old harmless 
 delusions, particularly when we have attained an elevation 
 from whence we can look around us, and survey the journey 
 we have travelled. It is so pleasant to call to mind with 
 satisfaction the many obstacles which with painful feelings 
 we may often have considered as insuperable, and to com- 
 pare all that we now are, with what we were then endea- 
 vouring to become. But inexpressibly happy do I feel at 
 this moment, when I can speak to you of the past, and look 
 forward into those bright regions of the future, through 
 which we shall wander together hand in hand !" 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 9 
 
 " But what about the ballet ?" interrupted Barbara. " I 
 fear it did not go off as well as it should have done. 5 ' 
 
 " Oyes !" interrupted Wilhelm, "it succeeded admirably. 
 And certainly as long as I live, I shall never forget those 
 strange dances of Moors, shepherds and dwarfs of both 
 sexes. At the fall of the curtain, the door closed, and our 
 little party hastened away to bed, quite joyful with excite- 
 ment. I remember well that I was unable to close my e\ es, 
 that I was anxious to be told a deal more in reply to my 
 numerous questions, and that I would scarcely allow the 
 maid to depart, who had taken us to bed. 
 
 " But on the following morning, alas ! the magical appa- 
 ratus had all disappeared, the mysterious curtain was re- 
 moved, we could once more pass unimpeded through the 
 doorway, from one room to another, and our manifold ad- 
 vi -mures had left no trace behind. .My brothers and sisters 
 ran about with their playthings, but I passed quietly 
 through the rooms, and thought it impossible that nothing 
 should remain but two door posts, of all the enchantment 
 which had existed yesterday. In truth, the man who has 
 lost his beloved, can scarcely be unhappier than I then was." 
 A look of rapture which he turned on Mariana at that 
 moment, testified how little he feared being reduced to such 
 an extremity. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 " MY sole object was now," continued "Wilhelm, " to 
 witness a second representation of the piece. I entreated 
 my mother, and she, at an opportune time, endeavoured to 
 persuade my father to comply. But her labour was vain. 
 He maintained that none but pleasures of rare occurrence 
 possess any value, that neither children nor old persons prize 
 those blessings which are of daily enjoyment. 
 
 " We might, perhaps, have been compelled to wait till the 
 return of Christmas, if the contriver and secret director of 
 the entertainment had not himself felt a desire to repeat 
 the performance, in order that he might produce in the 
 afterpiece a new harlequin, expressly prepared for the 
 occasion. 
 
10 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 " A young artillery officer, of great talent, and skilled in 
 mechanical contrivances, had during the building of our house, 
 rendered my father essential services, for which he was well 
 rewarded, and anxious to testify his gratitude to our little 
 family at Christmas, he had presented us with a fully 
 appointed theatre, which in the hours of leisure he had 
 constructed, carved and decorated. He was the person, who 
 assisted by a servant, had arranged the puppets, and by dis- 
 guising his voice, had played the different characters. He 
 found no difficulty in overcoming the reluctance of my 
 father, who from complaisance yielded to a friend, what from 
 principle he had denied to his children. At length, the 
 theatre was again erected, the neighbouring families were 
 invited, and the piece was once more repeated. 
 
 " If upon the first representation I had experienced the 
 delight of surprise and astonishment, I now felt an extreme 
 pleasure in observing and inquiring. How it was all con- 
 trived was my great object to discover. I was sensible from 
 the beginning, that the puppets did not themselves speak. 
 I suspected, moreover, that they did not move of their own 
 accord ; but how was all so well contrived, and how did they 
 appear to speak and move spontaneously ? and where couTd 
 the lights and the people be ? These difficulties distressed 
 me the more, as I wished, at the same time, to form one of 
 the enchanted and the enchanters, to take a secret part in the 
 play, and as a spectator to enjoy the pleasure of the illusion. 
 
 " The play being ended, preparations were made for the 
 afterpiece, while the company rose and entered into conversa- 
 tion together. I pressed closer to the door, and concluded 
 from the noise within, that some packing up was going on. I 
 raised the outside curtain, and peeped between the posts. 
 My mother observed it, and drew me back, but I had seen 
 enough to know that friends and foes, Saul and Groliath, and 
 all the others, whoever they might be, were packed together 
 in one box, and thus my half satisfied curiosity was still, 
 further excited. I had, moreover, to my great astonishment 
 observed the Lieutenant extremely busy in the interior of 
 the- temple. From this time forth, Harlequin, however 
 featly he might dance, possessed no charm for me. I was 
 lost in deep thought, and became at once satisfied and dis- 
 satisfied by my discovery. Upon acquiring a little 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 11 
 
 ledge, I felt as if I had learnt nothing, and I was right, for I 
 could not understand the connection of the parts, and upon 
 that in truth everything depends." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " CHILDREN, in regular and well-appointed houses," "Wil- 
 helm continued, " have an instinct, resembling that possessed 
 by rats and mice ; they watch all crevices and holes, where 
 they think they may procure some forbidden dainty, and they 
 enjoy it with a species of secret, stolen pleasure, which in 
 fact forms the chief part of childhood's happiness. 
 
 " I was more expert than my brothers, in discovering 
 any key which might have been left accidentally in its lock, 
 The greater the reverence of my heart for those well- 
 fastened doors, which I was obliged to pass by for weeks 
 and months, and into which I could do no more than cast 
 a furtive glance when our mother opened the sanctuary, to 
 take something therefrom, the quicker was I to seize any 
 opportunity which the carelessness of the housekeeper 
 permitted. 
 
 fc< It is easy to suppose that the door of the store room was 
 that to which ray attention was most actively directed. There t 
 are few of the fancied joys of life, which equalled my happi- 
 ness when my mother occasionally summoned me to assist 
 her in carrying anything out, upon which occasions, I might 
 thank her generosity or my own dexterity for the acquisition 
 of a few dried plums. The gathered treasures of the place 
 bewildered my imagination by their variety, and the charming 
 perfume exhaled from such a collection of spices, affected me 
 so sensibly, that I never missed an opportunity, when near, 
 of inhaling the dainty atmosphere. One Sunday morning, 
 when my mother's movements were hastened by the church 
 bells, the key of this precious room was left in the door, whilst 
 the whole house lay in a deep Sabbath stillness. As soon as I 
 made the discovery, I walked quietly backwards and forwards 
 several times, till at last approaching softly, I opened the 
 door, and at one step found myself in the presence of so 
 many long wished for sources of happiness. I sun 
 boxes, bags, chests, drawers and glasses, with quick ami 
 
12 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 doubtful eye, uncertain what I should select and take, till 
 finally I helped myself to some of my dear dried plums, and 
 added a few preserved apples and some candied citron. 
 "With this booty I was about to retreat, when a couple of 
 boxes attracted my attention, from the half-closed lids of 
 which, some wires furnished with little hooks, protruded. 
 With joyous anticipations I seized my treasure, and with 
 supreme delight discovered within, all those heroes, who to 
 me were a very world of delight. I was about to take up 
 the topmost figure, to examine him, and then to draw out 
 the undermost, but I soon entangled the delicate wires, 
 grew frightened and alarmed, more especially as the cook at 
 the very moment made some noise in the adjoining kitchen, so 
 I packed them together as well as I could, shut up the box, 
 having taken nothing but a little book which lay at the top, 
 containing the Drama of David and Groliath. "With this 
 booty I made my escape and took refuge in a garret. 
 
 " From this moment I devoted all my hours of solitude to 
 the perusal of the play, to learning it by heart, and to 
 imagining how splendid it would be, could I only accompany 
 my recitation by imparting animation to the figures. 1 was 
 soon transformed in fancy into David and Groliath. In all 
 corners of the house, in the attic, the stable, and the garden, 
 under all circumstances, I studied the piece intently, assumed 
 all t he parts and learned them by heart, supporting myself the 
 chief characters, and permitting the others to occupy my 
 memory as inferior satellites. For example, the courageous 
 speech of David, when he challenges the boasting giant, 
 Goliath, was day and night in my memory. I murmured it 
 over perpetually, without attracting the attention of any one 
 but my father, who sometimes overhearing my sudden 
 declamation, would silently praise the admirable memory of 
 his son, who could retain so much, from so few recitations. 
 
 " This made me bolder, and one evening I recited tlie greater 
 part of the piece before my mother, -naving previously con- 
 verted some pieces of wax into actors. She suspected me, 
 questioned me closely, and I confessed. 
 
 " Fortunately this discovery w r as made at a time when the 
 Lieutenant had expressed a wish to be allowed to initiate me 
 into the secret. My mother soon informed him of my 
 unexpected talents, and he then managed to persuade her to 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 13 
 
 allow him the use of a couple of rooms in the upper story, 
 which were generally empty, in one of which the spectators 
 might sit, and in the other the actors perform, whilst th^ 
 proscenium might again fill up the opening between the 
 doors. My father had allowed his friend to make all these 
 preparations, conniving at them in silence, in pursuance of 
 his maxim, that we should never allow children to know the 
 extent of our affection for them, lest their demands should 
 become inordinate. He thought that parents should be 
 reserved even in amusing their children, and should some- 
 interrupt their pleasures, to prevent them from 
 i ling presumptuous and forward." 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 " THE Lieutenant now set up his theatre and took charge of 
 everything. I remarked that during the week, he came to 
 the house at unusual hours, and I suspected his object. My 
 anxiety increased beyond measure, as I knew perfectly well 
 that before Sunday I should not be allowed to take part in 
 the preparations. The long wished for day at length arrived. 
 The Lieutenant came at five o'clock in the evening and took 
 me with him. I entered, quivering with delight, and saw on 
 both sides of the theatre the puppets suspended in order, as 
 they were to appear. I marked them carefully, and ascended 
 the step which raised me above the stage, so that I now 
 surveyed the little world below. It was not without rever- 
 ence that I looked between the scenes, recollecting what a 
 splendid effect the whole would produce, and sensible of 
 the great mysteries into which I was initiated. "We made 
 one trial, which was successful. 
 
 " The next day a party of children being invited, we per- 
 formed capitally, with the exception that in the intensity of 
 my excitement, I let pror Jonathan fall, and was obliged to 
 stretch out my arm to take him up again, an accident which 
 completely destroyed the illusion, occasioned loud laughter, 
 and vexed me unspeakably. But this misfortune seemed to 
 gratify my father exceedingly. He prudently concealed his 
 extreme satisfaction at observing the great cleverness of his 
 son, and at the conclusion of the piece, he dwelt chiefly upon 
 
11 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 the faults, and remarked that it would have been extremely 
 pretty, only for a failure in this or that particular. 
 9 " All this grieved me. I was sad for the whole evening, but 
 by the returning morning I had slept away all my sorrow, 
 and felt happy in the reflection, that but for a single mishap 
 my performance would have been faultless. Add to this, the 
 applause of the spectators, whose approval was unanimous. 
 They thought that the Lieutenant was successful in managing 
 the intonation of the voices, though his declamation was 
 stiff and affected, whilst the new -debutant had given the 
 speeches of David and Jonathan admirably. My mother 
 especially applauded the independent tone witli which I had 
 challenged Goliath, and presented the modest victor to the 
 kingi 
 
 " To my great joy the theatre now continued open, and as 
 Spring was approaching and we could dispense with fires, I 
 spent my holidays and play hours in my garret, making the 
 ]) up pets go through their performances. 1 often invited my 
 brothers and my friends, and when they could not come, I 
 was content to be alone. My imagination brooded over that 
 little world, and soon assumed another form. 
 
 " Before I had many times performed the first piece, for 
 which my theatre and the actors had been arranged and 
 decorated, they ceased to afford me any pleasure. But 
 amongst some books of my grandfather, the German Theatre 
 and some translated Italian Operas having fallen into my 
 hands, I became at once immersed in them, and after reck- 
 oning up the number of the characters, without further 
 preparation, I proceeded to exhibit the piece. Under these 
 circumstances, King Saul enveloped in his black robe was 
 now forced to personate Cato or Darius, on which occasions, 
 it is proper to observe, that the entire piece was never per- 
 formed, seldom indeed, more than the fifth act, in which the 
 death- scene occurred. 
 
 " It was natural that Operas with their many vicissitudes 
 and adventures should possess the greatest attraction for me. 
 They furnished stormy seas, deities who descended in clouds, 
 and what afforded me supreme happiness thunder and 
 lightning. I contrived everything with pasteboard, paint 
 and paper, produced night admirably, and made terrific 
 lightning. It sometimes happened that my thunder was a 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 15 
 
 failure, but that was not of much importance. The Operas 
 afforded me frequent opportunities for introducing my David 
 and Groliath, who in the regular drama were hardly admis- 
 sible. Every day I grew more attached to the narrow spot 
 where I enjoyed so many pleasures, and I must admit that 
 the fragrant odour which the puppets had contracted in the 
 store room contributed somewhat to produce this effect. 
 
 " The decorations of my theatre were now tolerably com- 
 plete, and the habit I had acquired in youth of drawing with 
 the compass, cutting out pasteboard and painting pictures, 
 served me now in hour of need. I was sadly grieved however 
 when, as often happened, my limited stock of actors proved 
 inadequate to the representation of grand performances. 
 
 " My sisters 1 amusement of dressing and undressing their 
 dolls, suggested to me the propriety of supplying my puppets 
 with an appropriate wardrobe. Accordingly I cut the 
 dresses for their bodies, sewed them together as well as I 
 was able, and from the savings of my pocket money I bought 
 some new ribbon and spangles, and by begging many a piece 
 of satin, I collected gradually a theatrical wardrobe, in which 
 hoop dresses for the ladies were particularly remembered. 
 
 " My actors were now really provided with dresses for the 
 most important piece, and a succession of performances 
 might now have been fairly expected, but it happened with 
 me as it generally does with children. They form mighty 
 plans, commence great preparations, make a few trials, and 
 then the entire project is abandoned. I committed this fault. 
 Invention, and the employment of my imagination furnished 
 me with the greatest delight. An occasional piece interest -d 
 me on account of a particular scene, and immediately I com- 
 menced preparing apparel for the occasion. Under these 
 circumstances the original wardrobe of my heroes soon fell 
 into disorder, or was no longer in existence, so that my first 
 great piece could not again be represented. I gave the reins 
 to my fancy, rehearsed and prepared everlastingly, built a 
 thousand castles in the air and forgot that I was thus 
 undermining my little edifice." 
 
 During this narrative Mariana had found it necessary to 
 summon up all her regard for Wilhelm, in order to conceal 
 her fatigue. Amusing as the matter might appear to one 
 party, it was too simple for her taste, and the accompanying 
 
1C WILHELM MEISTEll's 
 
 comments were far too serious. She softly pressed the 
 foot of her lover, to afford unequivocal proofs of her atten- 
 tion and approval. She drank out of his glass, and Wilhelm 
 felt convinced that no word he had uttered had been lost. 
 After a short pause, he exclaimed, " It is your turn now, 
 Mariana, to relate to me what were your first childish joys. 
 Hitherto we have always been too busy with the present, 
 to trouble ourselves about our previous course of life. But 
 tell me how were you brought up ? What are the first 
 vivid impressions which you remember ?" 
 
 These questions would have thrown Mariana into the 
 greatest embarrassment, if Barbara had not quickly come to 
 her assistance. " Do you think," said the clever old 
 woman, " that we have paid so much attention to what hap- 
 pened long ago, that we can have any thing worth telling, 
 or even if we had, that we could convert it into an enter- 
 taining narrative ?" 
 
 "As if that were necessary!" exclaimed Wilhelm. "I 
 love this dear, good, amiable creature so tenderly, that I 
 regret every moment of my life which I have spent without 
 her. Let me at least in fancy share your bygone life. Tell 
 me every thing, I will tell you every thing in return. Let 
 us, if possible, deceive ourselves, and endeavour to win back 
 those times which have been lost to love." 
 
 " If you are so bent upon this," said Barbara, " we can 
 satisfy you. But tell us first how your taste for theatrical 
 entertainments gradually grew, how you practised and how 
 you improved so happily that you are now esteemed a first- 
 rate actor? Doubtless you have had no want of merry 
 adventures. It is not worth while retiring now to bed. I 
 have still a bottle in reserve, and who knows when we may 
 meet again in such happiness and content ?" 
 
 Mariana glanced at her with a dissatisfied look which 
 Wilhelm did not observe, and he proceeded with his narra- 
 tion 
 
APPBEJmCESIIIP. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. , 
 
 " THE amusements of youth, as my acquaintances increased 
 in number, broke in upon my quiet, lonely enjoyments. I 
 was alternately hunter, soldier or knight, as our games 
 might render necessary, and I always possessed this trifling 
 advantage over my comrades, that I was able to furnish 
 them properly with all their necessary equipments. The 
 swords were always of my manufacture, I ornamented and 
 gilded the sledges, and I was impelled by a secret instinct 
 to dress our militia after the antique. Helmets were made 
 and ornamented with paper feathers. Shields and even 
 coats of armour were prepared, and in the performance of 
 these works, many a needle was broken by the sempstresses 
 and household assistants. 
 
 " One portion of my young companions were now fully 
 armed. The rest were gradually, but less effectively 
 equipped, and a respectable corps was collected together. 
 We marched about the court-yards and gardens, valiantly 
 struck each other's heads and shields, from which arose 
 many a misunderstanding which was quickly forgotten. 
 
 " This amusement, which afforded infinite entertainment to 
 the others, was repeated but a few times, when it ceased to 
 satisfy me. The sight of so many armed figures necessarily 
 awoke in me those ideas of chivalry, which for some time 
 had filled my head, since I had commenced the perusal of old 
 romances. 
 
 " The story of * Jerusalem Delivered,' Koppen's transla- 
 tion of which had fallen into my hands, soon gave my 
 wavering thoughts a decided turn. True, I was unable to 
 read the whole poem, but there were passages which I knew 
 by heart, and the descriptions captivated me. Clorinda, above 
 all, fascinated me with her noble deeds and bearing. The 
 female heroism, the sustained perfection of her character, 
 more affected my mind, which was just then unfolding, than 
 the artificial charms of Armida, though her garden was by 
 no means an object to be despised. 
 
 " But a hundred and a hundred times, as I have walked 
 at evening upon the balcony which is erected between the 
 gables of the house, and surveyed the surrounding scenery 
 
 c 
 
18 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 whilst the horizon was suffused with the gleaming splendour 
 of a setting sun, the stars burst forth twittering, and night 
 came on from every corner and depth, and the cry of the 
 grasshopper resounded through the solemn silence, then 
 have I a hundred times recited to myself the history of the 
 mournful combat between Tancred and Clorinda. 
 
 " However natural it might seem that I should advocate the 
 Christian enterprise, I felt a cordial interest in the Pagan 
 heroine, when she undertook to fire the great tower of the 
 besiegers. And when Tancred afterwards meets the sup- 
 posed warrior by night, and the combat begins beneath a veil 
 of gloom and they fight with bravery, I never could recite 
 the words 
 
 "Clorinda's course is now for ever past, 
 The hour approaches which must prove her last," 
 
 without my eyes filling with tears, which flowed in torrents 
 when the unfortunate lover plunges his sword into her 
 bosom, unclasps the helmet of the dying heroine, and re- 
 cognizing her with a shudder, hastens to bring water for 
 her baptism. 
 
 " But how did my heart overflow when in the enchanted 
 forest, Tancred' s sword strikes the tree, blood flows from 
 the wound, and a voice echoes in his ears that he has again 
 wounded Clorinda, and that he is destined by fate ever thus 
 unconsciously to destroy the object of his dearest love ! 
 
 " The story filled my imagination so completely that what 
 I had read became henceforth faintly embodied in my mind, 
 and I grew so captivated with the idea that I determined to 
 perform it after some fashion. I undertook to enact the 
 parts of Tancred and Binaldo, and found two suits of armour 
 ready for the purpose, which I had some time previously 
 prepared. The one formed of dark grey paper and orna- 
 mented with scales would serve for the solemn Tancred, the 
 other bright with gold and silver might adorn the brilliant 
 Rinaldo. In the excitement of my anticipations I related 
 the project to my companions. They were charmed with 
 the design, but were at a loss to understand how all this 
 was to be represented, and above all, represented by them. 
 
 "I allayed their apprehensions without much difficulty. 
 I determined to avail myself of a couple of rooms in the 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 1!) 
 
 house of a playfellow, without reflecting that his old aunt 
 might refuse to give them up to us. With equal rashness I 
 conceived the project of my theatre, of which I had formed 
 no other idea than that it was to be -fixed in a framework, 
 that the scenery was to be constructed out of folding screens 
 and the floor to be covered with an ample cloth. But from 
 whence all the indispensable materials were to come, never 
 once occurred to me. 
 
 " We found an excellent expedient to provide the grove. 
 We earnestly entreated an old servant of one of the families, 
 who had lately become a woodman to furnish us with some 
 young birch and fir trees, and they were actually brought 
 to us more quickly than we could have expected. But we 
 found great difficulty in determining how to complete our 
 arrangements before the trees should wither. Good advice 
 would now have been invaluable. We had neither house, 
 theatre, nor curtains. The folding scenes were all our trea- 
 sure. 
 
 " In our perplexity we had recourse once more to the 
 Lieutenant, and gave him a long account of all the lint; 
 things we intended. Ill as he understood us, he promised 
 every assistance, and for this purpose he heaped into a small 
 room all the tables he could find in the house and neighbour- 
 hood, fixed the folding screens to them, contrived a back 
 view of green curtains, and arranged our trees together in a 
 row. 
 
 " The long looked for evening came at last. The candles 
 were lighted, the maids and the children had taken their 
 places, the whole corps of heroes were equipped, and the 
 play was about to commence, when it occurred to us for the 
 first time that no one knew what he was to say. Engaged 
 in my inventions, and quite absorbed by my own pursuits, 
 I had forgotten that the actors should each learn an appro- 
 priate part, and in the excitement of the preparations this 
 difficulty had never occurred to my companions. They 
 fancied they could represent the character of heroes, and 
 could act and speak with ease as should become the persons 
 into whose world I had transplanted them. But when the 
 moment arrived they all stood in astonishment enquiring, 
 1 What was first to happen ?' till I, who had previously given 
 my attention to the character of Tancred, entered alone 
 upon the stage, and commenced reciting some verses of the 
 
20 WILIIELM MEISTER'S 
 
 Epic poem. But as the passage which I had selected soon 
 changed into narrative, whilst I. in my address, had to 
 represent a third party, and as Godfrey, whose turn it was 
 now to speak, refused to appear, I was at length compelled 
 to withdraw amid the loud laughter of the spectators ; a 
 catastrophe which galled me to the very soul. Our under- 
 taking proved a complete failure. The spectators how- 
 ever retained their seats and were bent upon seeing some- 
 thing. We were all in full costume. I took courage and 
 resolved, hit or miss, to give them David and Goliath. Some 
 of the company had already assisted me with the puppet 
 show, and all had witnessed it repeatedly. We accordingly 
 apportioned the parts, each promised to exert himself to the 
 utmost, and one little droll fellow, painting a black beard 
 upon his chin, undertook if any obstacle should occur, to 
 enact some drollery as Harlequin, a proposal to which I very 
 reluctantly consented, as quite opposed to the solemnity 
 of the performance. I vowed however at the same time, that 
 once free from this perplexity, I never would undertake the 
 representation of any piece, without the most careful pre- 
 paration. " 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 MABIANA, overcome by sleep, leaned upon her lover, who 
 pressed her closely to his side : he then continued his narra- 
 tive, whilst old Barbara with proper precaution appropriated 
 the rest of the wine. 
 
 "The difficulty," he said, " in which I found myself in- 
 volved with my friends, by undertaking the performance of 
 a play which had no existence, was soon forgotten. My 
 passion for dramatising every romance that I read, every 
 history that I learnt, was not subdued by the stubborn 
 nature of my materials. I felt perfectly convinced that 
 every thing which pleased as a narrative, must produce a 
 much more powerful effect as a representation. I longed 
 to have brought every thing before my eyes and produced 
 upon the stage. When any historical event was related to 
 us at school, I took particular note of any remarkable case 
 of murder or of poisoning, when my imagination glancing 
 rapidly over the common incidents of exposition and denoue- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 21 
 
 menfc, hastened to reach the deep interest of the fifth act. 
 And under such influence I actually commenced the compo- 
 sition of some pieces beginning with the finale, although in 
 none of them did I ever succeed in arriving at the beginning. 
 
 " At the same time impelled partly by my own fancy, and 
 partly by the request of friends, who had acquired a taste 
 for theatrical performances, I read through a whole collec- 
 tion of plays as chance threw them in my way. I was then 
 at that happy period of life when every thing imparts 
 pleasure, and when mere number and variety offer abun- 
 dant materials for happiness. But unfortunately my taste 
 was corrupted by another circumstance. Those pieces in- 
 variably pleased me most, in the representation of which I 
 hoped personally to excel, and I read few of them without 
 indulging this agreeable illusion: and as I could identify 
 myself with every character, my active imagination soon de- 
 ceived me into the belief that I was capable of representing 
 them, and on this account in distributing the parts, I 
 usually selected those that were not at all adapted for me, 
 and when such a license could be permitted, it was my 
 custom even to appropriate two. 
 
 " The resources of children at play are infinite : a wand 
 becomes a gun, a piece of wood a sword ; each bundle a 
 doll, and every corner a habitation. Upon this principle 
 was our theatre conducted. In perfect ignorance of our 
 powers we boldly undertook every thing, we observed no qui 
 pro quo, feeling convinced that every one would recognize 
 in us, the characters we represented. But it happens un- 
 fortunately that our whole proceedings were of so common 
 place and unvaried a nature, that I have not even a remark- 
 able absurdity to relate. We first acted those few pieces in 
 which male figures alone are introduced, subsequently we 
 dressed some of our party in female attire, and at length we 
 inducted our sisters into the company. In some families 
 our performances were considered as improving in their 
 tendency, and company was accordingly invited to witness 
 them. Our Lieutenant of artillery did not forsake us upon 
 such occasions. He instructed us to make our exits and our 
 entrances, to declaim and to gesticulate. But for the most part 
 he earned but little gratitude for his trouble, as we thought 
 that we understood theatrical science far better than he. 
 
 " Our first passion was for tragedy, as we had often 
 
22 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 heard and indeed believed that it was easier to write and to 
 represent tragedy, than to excel in comedy. In addition, 
 upon our first tragical effort, we had felt ourselves completely 
 in our element. We sought to realise dignity of rank, and 
 excellence of character by stiffness and affectation, and 
 thought ourselves eminently successful: but we only felt 
 completely happy when allowed to rage furiously, to stamp 
 with our feet ; and to fling ourselves upon the ground in 
 madness and despair. 
 
 " Maidens and youths did not long continue these per- 
 formances, before nature took her usual course, and the 
 company began to divide into various little societies of love ; 
 since, oftentimes, it happens that a two-fold comedy is 
 enacted upon the stage. Behind the scenes, each happy 
 couple softly pressed hands in the most loving manner, and 
 \\rre lost in rapturous delight when they appeared before 
 each other in ideal characters, adorned in theatrical attire ; 
 whilst on the other hand, a few unhappy rivals fell a prey to 
 the pangs of jealousy, and occasioned all manner of con- 
 fusion, with their insolence and malice. 
 
 " These performances, although undertaken without judg- 
 ment and enacted without discretion, were not without 
 advantage to us. They served to enable us to exercise our 
 memories and our physical powers, and attain more ease in 
 conversation and deportment, than persons at so early an 
 age can easily acquire. This period formed a remark- 
 able epoch in my history : my whole mind was now directed 
 to the theatre, and I found no other happiness, than in 
 reading, writing, and performing plays. 
 
 " The instruction of my tutors was, however, continued. 
 Being destined for a life of trade, I had been placed in the 
 counting house of a friend. But at this particular juncture, 
 my mind became diverted more forcibly than ever from a 
 pursuit which I deemed unworthy of me. I was anxious to 
 dedicate my whole powers to the stage, and to seek therein 
 niy happiness and content. 
 
 " I still recollect a poem which will be found amongst my 
 papers, in which the tragic Muse, and another female cha- 
 racter, by which I intended to personify Trade, are made to 
 contend vigorously for the possession of my worthy self. 
 The idea is not original, and I forget whether the verses 
 possess any merit, but you should see them on account of 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 23 
 
 the apprehension and loathing, the love and passion, which 
 predominate therein. The old female is painfully described, 
 with her distaff in her girdle, her keys at her side, her spec- 
 tacles on her nose, ever active, restless, quarrelsome, stingy, 
 petty and annoying, and sorrowfully do I describe his con- 
 dition who must bow beneath her rod and earn his servile 
 wages in the sweat of his brow. 
 
 " But how differently did I make the other figure ad- 
 vance ; what an apparition was she for the troubled heart ! 
 In her form of glory, she seemed in being and deportment 
 to be a very daughter of freedom ; the sense of her own 
 innate worth imparted to her a dignity devoid of pride. Her 
 attire was becoming ; it enveloped each limb without con- 
 straint, and the rich folds of her dress like a thousand times 
 reiterated echo, repeated the graceful motions of the Goddess. 
 What a contrast was there ! it is easy to imagine which way 
 my heart inclined. Moreover, nothing was forgotten that 
 could render my Muse attractive. Crowns and daggers, 
 chains and masks, as they had been left by my predecessors, 
 were again bestowed upon her. The contest was keen. The 
 speeches of both parties contrasted admirably, as at fourteen 
 years of age one is accustomed to paint the lines of black 
 and white with sufficient distinctness. The old woman spoke 
 like one who could stoop to pick up a pin ; the other like 
 one who could bestow kingdoms. The warning threats of 
 the former were despised. I turned my back upon her 
 promised wealth ! naked and disinherited, I abandoned my- 
 self to the Muse, who flung her golden veil around me and 
 concealed my destitution. 
 
 " Could I have thought, oh, my love," Wilhelm exclaimed, 
 as he pressed Mariana tenderly to his heart, " that another 
 and a more lovely goddess would soon appear, to strengthen 
 my resolutions and to guide me on my way, the poem would 
 have had a brighter turn, and a happier termination ; and 
 yet it is no poem, but truth and life to find you in my arms ; 
 let us revel in the consciousness of our sweet happiness " 
 
 The pressure of his arm, and the animation of his elevated 
 voice awakened Mariana, she sought to conceal her embar- 
 rassment in caresses, for she had not heard one word of the 
 latter part of his narrative, and it is to be wished that our 
 hero for the future may obtain more attentive listeners to 
 his charming tales. 
 
24 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THUS did Wilhelm pass his nights in the enjoyment of 
 confiding love, and his days in the expectation of hours of 
 renewed happiness. Even at the time when desire and hope 
 first attracted him to Mariana, he became endowed with a new 
 being ; he felt that he had commenced a new existence, and 
 now that he was united to her, the satisfaction of his desires 
 had grown to be a delicious habit. His heart now sought to 
 ennoble the object of his passion, and his spirit to exalt the 
 maiden of his love. Even in the shortest absence, her remem- 
 brance seized him. If she had been formerly a necessity, 
 she had now become indispensable to him, since she was 
 attached to him by every tie of nature. His pure soul felt 
 that she was the half and more than the half of his being ; 
 his gratitude and devotion were boundless. 
 
 And even Mariana could deceive herself for a time ; she 
 shared the feeling of his deep delight. Alas ! if only the 
 cold hand of reproof did not sometimes fall upon her heart. 
 Even upon the bosom of Wilhelm, and under the wings of 
 his love, she was not safe from its chill touch. And when 
 she was again alone, and when from those clouds to which 
 his passion had exalted her, she sank down to the conscious- 
 ness of her condition, she was indeed wretched. Thought- 
 lessness came to her as a friend, whilst she lived in a state of 
 mental confusion, and was either deluded as to her condition, 
 or did not comprehend it. The circumstances to which she 
 found herself exposed, appeared but isolated. Pleasure and 
 pain perpetually effaced each other's impress, humiliation 
 was compensated by vanity, and want often by momentary 
 superfluity. She could adduce necessity and custom in her 
 defence and justification, and thus from hour to hour, and 
 from day to day, she banished every corroding reflection. 
 But now the poor girl had felt herself transported for a 
 moment into a better world, had looked down from a height 
 of light and joy upon the desert waste of her past life, and 
 felt what a wretched being a woman is, who whilst she 
 excites desire, is powerless to awaken either love or respect, 
 and found herself neither externally nor internally improved. 
 
 She was bereft of consolation. When she looked enquir- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 25 
 
 ingly within, all was void, and her heart found no support or 
 refuge. The more wretched she was, the more closely did 
 she cling to her beloved. Her passion increased the more, 
 as the dread of losing him every day grew stronger. 
 
 Wilhelm on the other hand floated alofb in more exalted 
 regions, a new world was opened to him also, rich in glorious 
 prospects. Scarcely had he vielded to the first excess of joy, 
 than that vision stood brigntly before his soul, which had 
 formerly glided darkly through it. She is thine; she has 
 given herself to thee ! She, the beloved, the sought for, the 
 adored, has given herself to thee in confidence and truth, she 
 will not find thee ungrateful. Motionless or active he 
 discoursed with himself, his heart continually overflowed, and 
 in an eloquence of burning words, he uttered the most sublime 
 thoughts. He believed that he saw the clear beckoning of 
 Fate, who stretched out her hand to him through Mariana, 
 to save him from the wearisome, stagnant citizen-life from 
 which he had so long sought deliverance. To quit his father's 
 house, to separate from his relations, appeared to him a 
 trivial matter ; he was young and new in the world, and his 
 courage was exalted by love, to wander over its wastes in 
 search of happiness and contentment. His destiny for the 
 stage was now clear. The glorious goal which he saw dis- 
 played before him, seemed to approach nearer as he sought its 
 attainment hand in hand with Mariana, and with self- 
 contented satisfaction, he pictured to himself his success as 
 an actor the creator of a future national theatre, an object 
 for which many had so often vainly sighed. Every fancy which 
 had hitherto slumbered in the interior recesses of his soul, 
 was now awakened. From his multifarious ideas he painted a 
 picture in colours of love, upon a canvass of cloud, the figures of 
 which ran sadly into each other, but the whole only produced 
 on this account a more enchanting effect. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HE remained now at home, turning over his papers and 
 preparing for his departure. He neglected all that related to 
 his previous pursuits, wishing upon his journey through tho- 
 world, to be free from every unpleasant recollection. Only 
 
26 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 works of taste, the poets and the critics were admitted as 
 well-known friends amongst his selected books, and as he 
 had formerly availed himself but slightly of critical authors, 
 his taste for information was now renewed, when upon 
 glancing through his books he found that his collection of 
 theatrical essays were for the most part uncut. In full con- 
 viction of the utility of such works he had provided himself 
 with a large supply, although with the best intentions, he 
 n$ver been able to advance far in the perusal. 
 
 On the other hand he had applied himself more diligently 
 to composition, and had even attempted every kind with 
 which he had become acquainted. 
 
 "Werner one day entered his apartment, and observing his 
 friend to be engaged with the well-known manuscripts, ex- 
 claimed, " "What, still busy with these papers ? I will wager 
 that you have no intention of finishing any of them. You 
 are ever engaged in looking them through, but still bent upon 
 commencing some new performance." 
 
 " To finish is not the business of the scholar, it is sufficient 
 that he exercise himself." 
 
 " But still he finishes as well as he can." 
 
 " And yet the question might well be asked, whether one 
 should not entertain good hopes of a youth who ceases to 
 continue a pursuit when he finds he has undertaken something 
 inappropriate, and is unwilling to waste his efforts upon a 
 project which can have no value." 
 
 " I well know it was never your way to bring anything to 
 completion. You have always wearied before one half was 
 finished. When you were director of our puppet show, how 
 often have new clothes been made for the dwarfish 
 company, and new decorations prepared. At one time this, 
 at another time that tragedy was to be represented, and you 
 generally ended by performing some fifth act, in which every- 
 thing was admirably confused, and in which the characters 
 murdered each other." 
 
 " If you will refer to those times, whose fault was it that 
 we tore off the garments which fitted our puppets so well, 
 to incur the expense of a more extensive and useless ward- 
 robe ? Were not you the person who constantly had a new 
 piece of ribbon to bargain for, and who never failed to 
 encourage mv whims and to profit by them." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 27 
 
 Werner smiled, whilst lie exclaimed, " I still remember 
 with pleasure how I profited by your theatrical campaigns as 
 a commissary does by war. When you were preparing your 
 ' Jerusalem Delivered,' I gained enormously as the Venetians 
 did formerly in similar circumstances. I know of nothing in 
 the world more sensible than to extract advantage from the 
 folly of others." 
 
 " I doubt if it be not a nobler pleasure to cure men of 
 their follies." 
 
 " And if I know mankind well, that might prove a vain task, 
 though to be sure some progress is made, when any individual 
 wishes to become clever and rich ; and this generally takes 
 place at the expense of others." 
 
 Wilhelm answered: "I lay my hand now most oppor- 
 tunely upon 'The Youth at the Cross Roads/ " as he drew 
 a manuscript from amongst his other papers ; " it is at least 
 finished, be it in other respects what it may." 
 
 " Throw it away, cast it into the fire," replied Werner; 
 " the plot is not in the least praiseworthy, the composition 
 distressed me enough formerly, and drew your father* s anger 
 upon you. The verses may be pretty, but the design is 
 wholly false. I still remember that wretched wrinkled- 
 looking sibyl, your personification of Trade. You must 
 have taken the picture from the shop of some miserable 
 huckster. You could then have had no idea of commerce, 
 for I do not know any character whose mind is, was, and 
 requires to be, more enlarged than that of a real merchant. 
 What an improving sight is the order in which his business 
 is conducted, which allows us at any time to survey the 
 whole, without the necessity of entangling ourselves with 
 details. What an advantage for the merchant is the system 
 of book-keeping by double entry ; it is one of the sublimest 
 inventions of human genius, and every good householder 
 should introduce it into his establishment." 
 
 "Pardon me," said Wilhelm, smiling, "you begin with 
 the form as if that were the substance, and with your addi- 
 tions and your balances you commonly forget the all-important 
 net product of life." 
 
 " But unfortunately, my friend, you do not see that form 
 and substance are here the same, and that one cannot exist 
 without the other. System and order increase the wish to 
 
28 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 save and to acquire. A bad manager is contented to be 
 ignorant of his affairs, and is unwilling to count the entries 
 wherein he stands as debtor. On the other hand, nothing 
 can be more delightful to a good manager, than daily to 
 survey the amounts of his increasing happiness. Even a 
 mischance, when it unfortunately surprises, does not terrify 
 him, since he knows the well-earned profits which he can place 
 in the other scale. I am convinced, my dear friend, that if 
 you could but once experience the genuine pleasure of a life 
 of business, you would admit that many faculties of the mind 
 can find therein a free play." 
 
 " It is possible that the journey which I project may give 
 rise to another way of thinking." 
 
 " Oh yes ! believe me, you only need a scene of great in- 
 dustry to make you one of us, and upon your return you will 
 willingly associate with those who seek to secure by every 
 species of undertaking and speculation, to enjoy a portion of 
 that wealth and happiness which takes its fated circuit through 
 the world. Cast a look upon the natural and artificial products 
 of every part of the globe,see how they have become alternately 
 indispensable ! What a delightful and intellectual anxiety, to 
 know what is required at the precise moment, and yet either 
 wholly fails or is difficult to procure ; to satisfy the wants of 
 all with ease and expedition, to lay in a provision with fore- 
 thought, and to enjoy the advantages of each moment in this 
 extensive circulation. This, it appears to me, is capable of 
 proving an inexhaustible delight to every man of understand- 
 ing." 
 
 Wilhelm seemed to consent, and Werner continued : 
 " Only in the first place visit a few large commercial towns 
 or seaports, and without doubt you will be transported with 
 the sight. When you observe how many men are there 
 employed, and see whence so much has come and whither it is 
 going, you will doubtless experience delight that it should 
 pass through your hands. Tou behold the smallest articles 
 of trade in connection with the entire principles of commerce, 
 and you will then consider that nothing is little, because 
 every thing tends to increase the circulation from which your 
 life draws its support." 
 
 Werner who had improved his own correct understanding 
 by association with Wilhelm, had accustomed himself to 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 29 
 
 reflect upon his own pursuits, and upon bis own business with 
 elevation of soul, and ever considered that he performed this 
 task with greater justice than his otherwise sensible and valued 
 friend, who, it seemed to him, placed such excessive import- 
 ance, and threw the weight of his whole soul, upon the most 
 unival objects in the world. He sometimes thought that he 
 must succeed in overcoming this false enthusiasm, and that 
 so good a man must eventually be led into the right way. 
 In this hope he continued, "The great men of the world 
 have appropriated the whole earth, they live in glory and 
 superfluity, even the smallest corner of the globe is already 
 in their possession, and that possession is secured. Offices 
 and other civic business produce but little ; where then can we 
 find more legitimate pursuits, or juster conquests than those 
 of commerce. The princes of this world have the rivers, the 
 roads and the havens in their power, and extract a consider- 
 able profit from everything in course of transit ; should not 
 we thru \\ith joy embrace the opportunity of levying toll, by 
 our activity, upon those articles which either \vant or luxury 
 has rendered indispensable to man. And I can warn you, that 
 if you will only employ your poetical fancy, you will find 
 my goddess the invincible conqueror of your own. It is true 
 she bears the olive branch rather than the sword, daggers 
 and chains she knows not, she distributes crowns to her 
 favourites, which, be it said without otfence, are formed of 
 brilliant gold, pure from the mine, and gleaming with pearls 
 sought in the depths of the ocean by the hands of her 
 trusty servants." 
 
 This sally vexed Wilhelm not a little, but he concealed 
 his emotion, for he remembered that Werner was accustomed 
 to hear his rhapsodies with resignation. In other respects 
 he was just enough to feel content that every one should 
 esteem his own pursuit the best, he only required that others 
 should allow him uncontestedly to enjoy that course to 
 which he was passionately devoted. 
 
 " And for you," cried Werner, " who sympathize so 
 cordially in human affairs, what a spectacle will it be to 
 behold the happiness which attends daring speculations be- 
 stowed on mankind. What is more gladdening than the 
 sight of a vessel arriving from a prosperous voyage, or 
 returning with a rich prize. Not only the relations, the ac- 
 
30 WILHELM MEISTEH'S 
 
 quaintances, and the partners, but every observing stranger 
 is delighted at witnessing the joy with which the imprisoned 
 sailor leaps ashore even before his vessel touches land, feeling 
 that he is once more free, and can now confide to the 
 faithful earth all that he has rescued from the treacherous 
 waves. All our gain, my friend, does not depend on figures, 
 happiness is the goddess of living men, and in order really 
 to experience her favours we must exist and behold mankind, 
 whose exertions are earnest and whose enjoyments are 
 deep." 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 IT is now time for us to become better acquainted with 
 the parents of our two young friends. They were men of 
 very different dispositions, but they agreed in considering 
 commerce as the noblest of employments, and botli were 
 extremely attentive to the smallest advantage which any 
 species of speculation could bring. Wilhelm's father on the 
 death of his own parent had converted into money a valuable 
 collection of paintings, drawings, engravings, and antiquities, 
 had completely rebuilt and furnished his house in the newest 
 style, and had made the remainder of his property profitable 
 in every possible way. He had lent a great part of it to the 
 elder Werner for purposes of trade, as the latter possessed 
 the character of an active man of business, whose specula- 
 tions were generally favoured by fortune. But old Meister 
 desired nothing so anxiously as to endow his son with 
 qualities which he did not himself possess, and to bequeath 
 to his children advantages, to the enjoyment of which he 
 attached the greatest advantage. But he himself entertained 
 a love for magnificence, for those things which strike the 
 eye, and at the same time possess a real and lasting value. 
 He considered that everything in a house should be solid 
 and massive, the supply abundant, the plate heavy, the table 
 service costly. But then his guests were few, for every en- 
 tertainment was a festival, which did not admit of frequent 
 repetition, as well on account of the expense as of the in- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 31 
 
 convenience. His household was conducted in an unpre- 
 tending and regular manner, and every attempt at animation 
 or novelty uniformly failed to afford satisfaction. 
 
 The elder "Werner in his dark and gloomy habitation led 
 a life of a wholly different kind. When he had once trans- 
 acted his daily business at the old desk in his small counting 
 house, he was accustomed to dine well, and if possible to 
 drink still better. But he was unable to enjoy his luxuries 
 in solitude. He took pleasure in beholding his friends, and 
 indeed all strangers who were in any way connected with 
 him, seated at table in the society of his family. His chairs 
 were antiquated, but he invited some one to sit upon them 
 daily. His good fare attracted the attention of his guests, 
 and no one observed that it was served on common ware. 
 His cellar was incapable of holding much wine, but what 
 was drunk was usually replaced by a supply of a superior 
 kind. 
 
 Thus did these two parents pursue their career, often 
 meeting together to consult upon their common affairs, and 
 at the time of which we speak they had just determined to 
 send Wilhelm from home, to engage in some transactions of 
 business. 
 
 "He must see the world," observed old Meister, "and 
 at the same time execute our business in some distant places. 
 There can be no greater advantage for a young man than to 
 be initiated early into the business of life. Your son has 
 returned so prosperously from his journey, and has managed 
 so well, that I am curious to see how mine will succeed. 
 I fear his knowledge must be purchased at a dearer rate than 
 your's." 
 
 Old Meister, who entertained a high opinion of his son's 
 capabilities, made this observation, with the hope that his 
 friend would contradict him, and extol the extraordinary 
 talents of the youth. But in this he was deceived,' Old 
 Werner, who in practical matters confided in no man whom 
 he had not proved, answered with composure, " We must 
 try every thing we may send him on the same journey and 
 furnish him with written directions for his guidance ; 'there 
 are many debts to collect, old connections to renew, and 
 fresh ones to form. He may also assist to forward the 
 speculation about which I have spoken to you lately, for 
 
32 WILHELM MEJSTEB'S 
 
 unless we procure precise information on the very spot, we 
 shall make but little progress." 
 
 " He may get ready," said old Meister, " and set out as 
 soon as possible. But where shall we find a horse for him, 
 adapted for such a journey ?" 
 
 " We need not search far for that. A shopkeeper in 
 H , who is a debtor of ours, though otherwise a very 
 worthy person, has offered us a horse in payment of our claim. 
 My son knows the animal and approves of it highly." 
 
 "Then he may fetch it himself. If he starts by the 
 coach he may return by the day after to-morrow. We can 
 in the mean time get ready his portmanteau and his letters, 
 and by this means he may set out in the beginning of the 
 approaching week." 
 
 \Vilhelm was forthwith summoned and informed of the 
 plan. No one could have been more delighted than he was, 
 on perceiving within his power the means of executing his 
 project, and on finding so favourable an opportunity provided 
 without any trouble on his part. So strong was his affec- 
 tion, and so pure was his conviction that he was acting 
 honourably in escaping from the pressure of his previous 
 style of life, and in following a new and nobler career, that his 
 conscience did not in the least upbraid him ; he was troubled 
 by no anxiety, and in point of fact he even considered his 
 intended fraud as holy. He felt confident that his parents 
 and relations would eventually praise and bless him for his 
 determination, and he recognized in the concurrence of these 
 events the evidence of a conducting fate. 
 
 How long did the night appear to him until the arrival of 
 the hour when he should again behold his darling ! He re- 
 tired to his chamber and thought over in his mind the plan 
 of his journey, as a conjuror or a dexterous thief in prison 
 withdraws his feet repeatedly from the chains with which he 
 is bound, to encourage the belief that his escape is possible, 
 and perhaps even nearer than his short-sighted gaolers 
 imagine. 
 
 The long-looked-for hour of night at length arrived. He 
 left his house, flung all his troubles to the winds, and 
 wandered through the silent streets. Having reached the 
 great square, he raised his hands to heaven, and felt himself 
 superior to every care as he had escaped from all anxiety. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 33 
 
 At one moment he fancied that be was locked in the em- 
 brace of his beloved Mariana; at another moment they 
 seemed to be enjoying together the brilliant enchantments of 
 the stage, and whilst he was thus soaring aloft, in the delu- 
 sions of fancy and lost, as it were, in the blissful regions of 
 hope, the watchman's cry reminded him, alas ! that he was 
 still but a pilgrim on this earth. 
 
 1 1 is beloved met him on the stairs, and how beautiful she 
 looked ! she was attired in her loose white " negligee," and 
 he thought she had never looked so charming. The gift of 
 the absent lover was dedicated to the entertainment of a 
 nt rival, and with real passion she showered upon him 
 all the caresses which were suggested to her by nature, or in 
 which she had been instructed by art : it is necessary 
 to inquire whether he felt happy and blessed ? 
 
 He explained all that had occurred, and in general terms 
 he unfolded to her his plans and his wishes. He would first 
 endeavour, he said, to establish himself in some residence, 
 after which he would return for her, and he hoped that she 
 would then consent to bless him with her hand. The poor girl 
 was silent, she made an effort to conceal her tears, and 
 pressed her friend to her bosom. Though he interpreted 
 her confusion favourably, he could have wished for a more 
 decisive answer, particularly when in the most modest and 
 endearing tones, he inquired whether he might not consider 
 himself a father. But to this question she only answered 
 with a sigh and with a kiss. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 ON the following morning Mariana awoke to a feeling of 
 renewed sorrow, she felt now that she was completely 
 alone she shrunk from encountering the face of day, an'd 
 therefore she remained in bed and wept. Old Barbara sat 
 down at her side, and endeavoured to persuade and console 
 her, but she found it impossible so soon to heal a wounded 
 heart. The moment was fast approaching to which the 
 poor girl had long looked forward as the end of her existence. 
 
 Could any human being have been placed in a more dis- 
 
 D 
 
34 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 tressing situation ? her lover was absent another and a less 
 welcome suitor was hourly expected, and the direst calamity- 
 must necessarily ensue if the two individuals should meet. 
 " Tranquillize yourself, my dear ! " cried old Barbara, " do 
 not spoil those pretty eyes with tears ? Is it then so great a 
 misfortune to have two lovers ? and if you can only bestow 
 your tenderness upon one, surely it is possible for you to be 
 grateful to the other, and he, if we may judge from his 
 attention, deserves at least to be considered as your friend." 
 
 "My beloved," answered Mariana, bathed in tears, " had 
 a secret misgiving that a separation was at hand." A dream 
 discovered to him all that we have sought so anxiously to 
 conceal. He was sleeping softly at my side. Suddenly I 
 heard him murmur some distressing but unintelligible words, 
 I became alarmed and awoke him. How can I describe the 
 love, the tenderness, the transport with which he embraced 
 me ! * Oh Mariana ! ' he exclaimed, ' from what anguish and 
 distress you have delivered me ! How can I evince my 
 gratitude to you, for freeing me from such misery ! I dreamt/ 
 he continued, * that I was in an unknown country, sepa- 
 rated from you : but your image floated before me : I beheld 
 you seated on a beautiful hill, the sun shone upon the spot, 
 and how lovely you appeared ! But this did not last long 
 presently I saw your image gliding gliding gradually away 
 I stretched out my arms towards you, but they could not 
 reach you in the distance. Tour image continued to dis- 
 appear gradually from me, until at length it approached a 
 wide sheet of water, which lay at the foot of a hill, and 
 resembled a marsh rather than a lake. Suddenly a stranger 
 offered you his hand, he wished, it seemed, to raise you 
 upwards, but he led you to one side, and drew you to him- 
 self. I shouted, for I was unable to reach you, but I wished 
 to give you warning. When I tried to stir, the ground 
 seemed to hold me fast, and if I could have succeeded in my 
 attempt to move, the water was still between us. Though my 
 anguish was extreme, my very cries were stifled within me.' 
 Such was the account poor Wilhelm gave, as he sought refuge 
 from his terror in my embrace, and felt happy in dispel ling 
 his frightful delusion in the reality of bliss." 
 
 Old Barbara had recourse to all her prosaic powers to 
 dispel the poetry of her friend, and to reduce it within the 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 35 
 
 limits of common life. For this purpose she adopted that ad- 
 mirable plan which so often succeeds with bird-catchers, when 
 they imitate with a whistle the notes of the pool* creatures 
 who are destined to flutter shortly in the entanglement 
 of their nets. She spoke favourably of Wilhelm and passed 
 eloquent eulogiums upon his figure, upon the brightness 
 of his eyes, and upon the depth of his love. The poor 
 girl was delighted she arose and permitted herself to be 
 dressed, and gradually became more tranquil. "My child, 
 my sweet love," said Barbara in a flattering tone, " I will not 
 distress or trouble you. I have no wish to destroy your 
 happiness. Could you misunderstand my purpose, or have 
 you forgotten that I have ever consulted your comfort more 
 than my own. Only express your wishes and let us consider 
 how they may be fulfilled." 
 
 "What can I wish for!" answered Mariana, "1 am 
 wretched, wretched for life. I love him, he loves me, I see 
 that I must separate from him, and I know not how I can 
 survive it. Norberg is coming, to whom we are indebted for 
 our very existence, and whom we cannot afford to lose. 
 Wilhelm is in but indifferent circumstances, and he cannot 
 assist me." 
 
 " Yes, he is unfortunately one of those lovers who have 
 nothing but their hearts to offer, and such people invariably 
 make the greatest pretensions." 
 
 " Do not jest ! the poor youth intends to leave home, to 
 go upon the stage, and then to offer me his hand." 
 
 " We have four empty hands already ! " 
 
 " I have no power to choose," continued Mariana. " So do 
 you decide for me ! Reject me as you may, but be assured of 
 one thing, it seems to me that I bear a pledge within, 
 which ought to bind us more closely to each other : consider 
 that, and decide whom I should forsake and whom I ought 
 to follow ? " 
 
 After a brief silence Barbara lamented that it should 
 be the disposition of youth ever thus to fluctuate between 
 extremes ! " It will be better,' ' she said, " to adopt a course 
 which will ensure both pleasure and profit. Whilst you love 
 the one, you need not reject the generosity of the other. It 
 is essential however that we should prevent them from 
 meeting ." 
 
36 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 "Do as you please I can suggest nothing, but am ready 
 to obey,'' was the reply. 
 
 " We enjoy this advantage," continued Barbara, "that we 
 can indulge the manager's humour, who is so proud of 
 the morals of his company. Both these lovers are already 
 accustomed to act with secrecy and caution. I will arrange 
 the time and opportunity, but you must act for the future 
 according to my direction: many chances may help us. 
 Suppose for instance, Norberg were to arrive now during 
 Wilhelm's absence. I wish you good fortune and a son to 
 enjoy it. He will have a rich father." 
 
 These suggestions brought but temporary consolation to 
 Mariana. She was unable to reconcile her situation with 
 her feelings or with her conscience, and she wished moreover 
 to forget the misery of her condition, but a thousand trivial 
 circumstances continually forced them back upon her 
 memory. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 WILHELM in the mean time had completed his little 
 journey, and not having found his friend at home, he had 
 handed his letter of introduction to the wife of the absent 
 merchant. But she paid little attention to his enquiries, as 
 she was herself in a state of great trouble and embarrassment, 
 and the entire household was in confusion. 
 
 She soon informed Wilhelm, and indeed the information 
 could not long have been withheld, that her step-daughter 
 had lately eloped with an actor, who had a short time before 
 separated from a strolling company, and had remained 
 behind in the town for the purpose, as it were, of giving in- 
 structions in French. The father distracted with sorrow and 
 disappointment, had gone to the police office in order that 
 the fugitives might be pursued and arrested. She scolded 
 her daughter severely, and abused the lover, maintaining 
 that neither of them possessed a single good quality, and she 
 bitterly bewailed the disgrace tjiey had entailed upon her 
 family. "Wilhelm felt embarrassed and confounded, he feh 
 that the prophetic spirit of this sybil had as it were by 
 anticipation, condemned and punished his own design. But 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 37 
 
 he could not help feeling a stronger and more intense interest 
 in the grief of the father, who upon his return from the 
 police office, with settled sorrow and sobbing accents, related 
 to his wife the result of his visit. He could not conceal his 
 distraction and distress of mind. After reading the letter 
 which Wilhelm had presented, he gave directions that the 
 horse therein mentioned, should be delivered to him. 
 
 Wilhelm determined to mount his steed immediately, and 
 quit a house in which, under the circumstances \\v liavr 
 narrated, it was impossible for him to feel comfortable ; but 
 the good host would not allow the son of a friend to whom 
 he was so much indebted, to take his leave without expe- 
 riencing a more cordial welcome, and without having passed 
 one night at least beneath his roof. He partook, however, 
 of but a melancholy supper, passed a restless night, and 
 at early dawn he was glad to leave a family who by their 
 observations and remarks had not failed, however uninten- 
 tionally, to wound his feelings most severely. 
 
 He rode slowly and thoughtfully along the road, when 
 suddenly he observed a crowd of armed men approaching 
 through the fields. He perceived at once by their attire, by 
 their long loose coats, their wide sleeves, their shapeless 
 hats, and heavy muskets, as well as by their lounging gait 
 and self-satisfied bearing, that they were a detachment of 
 the country militia. They halted presently beneath a large 
 oak tree, and laid down their muskets, taking their seats 
 comfortably upon the grass to smoke a pipe. Wilhelm paused 
 near them, and entered into conversation with a young man, 
 who approached on horseback. He was now obliged to 
 listen again to the history of the two fugitives, with which 
 hr was, alas! already too well acquainted, and the account 
 was interspersed with observations not very flattering to the 
 young couple, or to their parents. He learnt at the same 
 time that the police had arrived to take charge of the accused. 
 They had been overtaken in the neighbouring village, and 
 placed in confinement there. Shortly afterwards a vehicle 
 was seen approaching in the distance. It was surrounded 
 by the civic guard, whose appearance was far more ludicrous 
 than terrible. A strange-looking official now rode forward, 
 and having joined the young man with whom Wilhelm had 
 been conversing, they exchanged compliments together, at 
 
38 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 the boundary of their respective districts. This was done 
 with great gravity and many strange grimaces, reminding 
 one of the ghost and conjuror, when they perform their tear- 
 ful midnight incantations, the one within, the other without 
 the limits of an enchanted circle. 
 
 The attention of the spectators was in the mean time 
 attracted to the vehicle, and not without sympathy did they 
 behold the poor unhappy culprits, sitting together upon 
 bundles of straw. They looked at each other tenderly, and 
 scarcely seemed to notice the crowd of bystanders. An 
 accident had occasioned them to be conducted from the last 
 village in that disagreeable manner, as the old coach which 
 had been procured for the lady having broken down, she had 
 thereupon begged that she might be permitted to sit beside 
 her friend, who, under the idea that he had been guilty of 
 some capital offence, had been loaded with fetters. His 'fet- 
 ters, however, served to enhance the interest which the loving 
 couple excited, especially as the demeanour of the youth 
 was both reserved and dignified, and he frequently kissed the 
 hand of his beloved with the most affectionate respect. 
 
 "Ifcistrue we are most unfortunate," she exclaimed to 
 the bystanders, " but we are, however, not so guilty as we 
 appear. This is the way in which cruel men reward faithful 
 love, and parents who care but little for the welfare of their 
 children, tear them violently from that happiness and joy 
 which, after many a weary day, they Lave at length suc- 
 ceeded in attaining." 
 
 Whilst the bystanders gave expression to their sympathy in 
 a variety of ways, the officers having completed their formali- 
 ties, the vehicle moved on, and Wilhelm, who was deeply 
 interested for the fate of the lady, hastened forward along the 
 footpath to introduce himself to the police authorities, before 
 the procession should arrive. But he had scarcely reached 
 the Court-house, which was already in a state of bustle and 
 confusion in consequence of the preparations made to re- 
 ceive the fugitives, before the young clerk overtook him, and 
 by a circumstantial account of the whole proceedings, and 
 afterwards by a particular eulogy upon his own horse, which 
 he had the day before received in barter from a Jew, he 
 completely prevented any further conversation. 
 
 The misguided pair had in the mean time been conducted 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 39 
 
 through a garden which was connected by a private entrance 
 with the Court-house, and in this manner they were intro- 
 duced to the Court. The lawyer was most cordially com- 
 plimented by Wilhelm for this display of humanity, although 
 in truth his only motive was to disappoint the people who 
 were assembled round the Court-house, and to deny them 
 the pleasure of seeing a fellow- creature in distress. 
 
 The magistrate, who had no especial love for unusual cases 
 of this description, being in the habit of committing all sorts 
 of mistakes, and of being requited for his good intentions 
 with the stern censure of the government, proceeded with 
 much solemnity to his office, whither the clerk, Wilhelm, and 
 some of the more respectable citizens soon followed him. 
 
 The lady was first introduced. She came forward with an 
 air wholly devoid of boldness ; she was calm and self- 
 possessed, and shewed both by her air and demeanour that 
 she entertained a high opinion of the respect to which she 
 deemed herself entitled. Without being questioned, she 
 commenced to complain with much emotion of the injustice 
 of the situation in which she found herself placed. 
 
 The clerk commanded her to be silent, and held his pen 
 over his folded paper. The magistrate assumed a grave look, 
 turned to his clerk, hemmed several times, and then asked 
 the poor girl what was her name and how old she was. 
 
 " Pardon me, sir," she replied, " but it does appear sin- 
 gular that you should enquire my name and age, when you 
 know the former so well, and are aware that I am just as old 
 as your eldest son. Any thing that you really wish and re- 
 quire to learn I am ready to explain to you fully. 
 
 " Since my father's second marriage I have always felt 
 myself wretched at home. I might have formed several 
 advantageous matrimonial connections, but they were alwavs 
 thwarted by my step-mother, on account of my marriage 
 portion. Having at length become acquainted with young 
 Melina, I felt compelled to love him, and as we foresaw the 
 obstacles which would prevent our union, we determined to 
 seek together in the wide world that happiness which seemed 
 unlikely to await us beneath the paternal roof. 1 carried 
 nothing away with me that was not my own. We did not 
 fly like thieves or robbers, and my beloved does not deserve 
 to be thus led about, loaded with chains and handcuffs. The 
 
40 WILHELM MEISTEH'S 
 
 Prince is a just man, and will never sanction such harshness. 
 If we are guilty, we are at least not so to this extent." 
 
 The embarrassment of the old magistrate was now more 
 than redoubled. He was about to express his sympathy ; 
 and the eloquent address of the girl had quite deranged the 
 plan of his protocol. The mischief became greater, when, 
 notwithstanding repeated peremptory questions, she refused 
 to answer, and alluded with firmness to the statement she 
 had already made. 
 
 st I am no culprit," she said. " I have been disgraced by 
 being brought hither, seated upon straw ; but there is a 
 higher tribunal that will restore us to honour." 
 
 The clerk had in the mean time written down her words, 
 and then whispered to the magistrate that he might proceed, 
 as a regular protocol could be prepared afterwards. 
 
 The old magistrate once more took courage and began in 
 the dryest manner, and with the aid of official formulas to 
 enquire into the sweet secrets of love. 
 
 The blood rushed into Wilhelm's face, and the cheeks of 
 the pretty culprit were likewise tinged with the charming 
 hues of modesty. She was silent and confused, until her 
 embarrassment at length seemed to invest her with courage, 
 
 "Depend upon it," she exclaimed, "I should confess the 
 truth, even were it to my own disadvantage ; and should I 
 now hesitate to do so when it reflects honour upon me ? 
 Yes, I have considered him as my husband from the first 
 moment when I became certain of his attachment and truth ; 
 I have willingly conceded to him all that love demands, and 
 all that a devoted heart is unable to withhold. Do with me 
 what you will. If I hesitated for a moment to make this 
 admission, it was caused solely by a fear that it might prove 
 injurious to my beloved." 
 
 Wilhelm, upon hearing this confession, formed an exalted 
 idea of the maiden's sentiments, whilst her judge looked 
 upon her as a good for nothing outcast, and the citizens 
 who stood by, thanked God that such an occurrence had 
 never happened or at least been discovered within the circle 
 of their own families. 
 
 Wilhelm's imagination now pictured the possibility of 
 Mariana being brought to a court of justice, and he framed 
 in his mind an eloquent speech in her defence, rendering her 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 41 
 
 innocence even more affecting, and her confession eyen more 
 noble, than that to which he just listened. He was seized 
 with the most anxious wish to assist the two lovers. He 
 made no secret of his desire, and privately requested the 
 wavering magistrate to conclude the investigation, insisting 
 that every thing was as clear as possible and needed no 
 farther enquiry. 
 
 This suggestion was so far of use that the maiden was 
 permitted to depart ; and the young man was now brought 
 forward, after his fetters had been removed at the door. He 
 seemed to consider his position in a more serious point of 
 view. His replies were more precise, and if he on the one 
 hand displayed less heroic generosity, he on the other created 
 a more favourable impression, by the decision and candour 
 of his statement. 
 
 When this enquiry was also concluded and was found com- 
 pletely to agree with the preceding one, except that the lover, 
 in order to protect the maiden, obstinately denied what she 
 had already confessed, she was once more brought forward, 
 and thereupon a scene ensued between the parties which 
 completely won for both of them the heart of our friend. 
 
 Here in an humble Court of Justice he was actual 
 witness of an exhibition which seldom occurs except in 
 romances and in comedies, the struggle of mutual generosity 
 the force of love in misfortune. 
 
 " Is it then really true," he asked himself, " that timid 
 affection which shrinks from the glare of daylight and of 
 mankind, and only dares to revel in retired solitude and in 
 the deepest secresy, when called forth by some disastrous 
 accident, can display more courage, strength and boldness 
 than the more noisy and ostentatious passions?" 
 
 Soon afterwards, to his great delight, the whole affair was 
 concluded. The accused, however, were both detained in 
 custody, but if it had been possible, Wilhelm would have 
 restored the young lady to her parents that same evening. 
 For he had determined to become her protector, and to pro- 
 mote a happy and prosperous marriage between the two lovers. 
 He requested the magistrate's permission to speak with 
 Melina in private, a favour which was conceded to him with- 
 out difficulty. 
 
42 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 THE intercourse of the new acquaintances soon became 
 intimate and cheerful. For when Wilhelm revealed to the 
 dejected youth his connection with the lady's parents, 
 offered to become his intercessor, and spoke of his own hopes 
 of success, he cheered and consoled the sad and anxious 
 spirit of the prisoner. The latter felt himself as it were 
 again at liberty, reconciled with his new relations, and only 
 anxious about his future pursuits and means of support. 
 
 " You cannot long remain in trouble upon this point," 
 observed Wilhelm, " since you seem to possess natural 
 qualifications to ensure success in the pursuit which you 
 have chosen. An agreeable figure, a sonorous voice, a 
 sensitive heart ! Could any actor enjoy greater advan- 
 tages ? If I can serve you with letters of recommendation, 
 it will give me the greatest satisfaction/' 
 
 " I thank you, cordially," replied the other, " but I shall 
 scarcely be able to avail myself of them, for, if possible, it 
 is not my intention to resume the stage." 
 
 "Then you will do wrong," said Wilhelm after a pause, in 
 which he recovered from his surprise, for he concluded 
 certainly that the actor would return to the theatre as soon 
 as he and his young wife should be restored to liberty. 
 This course seemed to him as necessary and natural as that 
 frogs should love the water. He had not doubted this for 
 a moment, and he now learned the reverse with great 
 astonishment. 
 
 " No !" answered the actor, " I have no intention of reap- 
 pearing on the stage. I would rather adopt a citizen's life, 
 of whatever kind it may be, could I but succeed in obtaining 
 an employment." 
 
 " That is a strange determination of which I cannot 
 approve, for without special reasons it is never advisable to 
 change the course of life upon which a person has entered, 
 and besides I know no pursuit which offers so many attrac- 
 tions, and so many delightful prospects as the career of an 
 actor." 
 
 " It is easy to perceive that you have never been one," 
 remarked the other. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 43 
 
 Wilhelm thereupon observed, " How rarely is any man 
 content with his condition ! He pines to be engaged in the 
 pursuit of his neighbour, an occupation from which the 
 latter perhaps is anxious to be disentangled." 
 
 " But," replied Melina, " there will never cease to be a 
 difference between bad and worse. Experience not im- 
 patience influences my conduct. In the whole world, what 
 pittance is earned with more trouble, uncertainty and labour 
 than that of the actor ? It were as well almost to beg from 
 door to door. What endless vexations must he not endure 
 from the jealousy of rivals, the prejudice of directors, and the 
 versatile humour of the public ! He must needs in truth 
 wear a bear's skin, and submit to be led about with a chain, 
 and cudgelled, in the company of apes and dancing dogs, and 
 forced to play antics to the sound of a bagpipe, for the 
 amusement of children and a mob." 
 
 Wilhelm hereupon indulged in a multitude of reflections to 
 which he would not give utterance in presence of his worthy 
 companion. He adverted to them delicately by a remote 
 and scarcely perceptible allusion. The actor was by this 
 1110:1113 induced to explain himself more clearly and at greater 
 length. " Is not a manager obliged," he asked, " to sue hum- 
 bly before the Mayor of every obscure village, for permission 
 to make a little money circulate amongst the inhabitants, 
 for a month or two, between the season of the fairs ? Often- 
 times have I pitied our own manager, for example, who in 
 some respects is a worthy man, though he has occasionally 
 given me cause for much dissatisfaction. Good actors on the 
 one hand exhaust his funds, whilst on the other, he cannot 
 free himself from the encumbrance of bad ones, and should 
 he attempt to equalize his expenditure with his receipts, 
 the public becomes dissatisfied, the house is empty, and in 
 order to escape utter ruin he must continue his performances 
 subject to pecuniary loss and mental vexation. No, no, Sir ! 
 since you profess yourself ready to assist me, I implore you 
 to speak earnestly to the parents of my wife. Let them 
 procure for me here, some little post of clerk or tax-gatherer, 
 and I will consider myself happy." 
 
 After a little further conversation, Wilhelrn took his 
 leave, promising that he would apply to the parents of the 
 lady early on the following morning and see what could be 
 
44 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 effected. As soon as he found himself alone, he relieved his 
 mind by giving utterance to the following exclamations. 
 " Unfortunate Melina, it is not in thy profession, but in 
 thyself that the evil lies which thou can'st not overcome. 
 What being in the world but must find his existence miserable, 
 who without an inward vocation, adopts a trade, an art, or 
 any other pursuit in life ! But the man who is born with 
 talents for his duties, finds in the execution his noblest 
 reward. There is nothing on the earth void of difficulty ! 
 It needs an inward impulse, a desire, a love for duty, to 
 overcome obstacles, to remove restraints, to elevate us above 
 the limits of a narrow circle within which others fret out 
 their wretched existence. To your mind, the stage is 
 nothing but boards, and the characters you act are a school- 
 boy's task. You look upon the audience, as upon working 
 days they regard each other. You may be content therefore 
 to sit behind a desk, to pore over account books, calculat- 
 ing interest and striking balances. You are a stranger 
 to that all-embracing all-inspiring whole, which is only dis- 
 covered, understood and perfected by the soul ; you do not 
 feel that in man there burns a noble fire, which if not 
 fanned and nourished, becomes buried beneath the ashes of 
 daily wants and indifference, but which can never be 
 wholly extinguished. You feel within you no strength to 
 fan this flame, and your heart has no resources with which 
 to feed the fire when once it is aroused. Hunger impels 
 you, distress wearies you, and you will not learn that every 
 condition in life is beset with foes who can only be subdued 
 by a cheerful and contented heart. You are right to be 
 content within the limits of a common sphere : for what post 
 could you fill which demanded either soul or courage ! 
 Endow a soldier, a statesman or a divine with your thoughts 
 and he will complain as justly of the wretchedness of his 
 lot. Have there not in truth been men, so wholly destitute 
 of every feeling which ennobles life, that they have pronounced 
 the very being and nature of man to be a Nothing, a wretched 
 existence no worthier than the dust ? If the forms of 
 earnest men were impressed in living characters upon your 
 soul, if the flame of sympathy burned within your breast, if 
 the voice which issues from within were diffused over your 
 whole being, if your tone and the words of your lips were 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 45 
 
 pleasant to hear, you would feel then that you were sufficient 
 for yourself and you would soon find place and opportunity 
 wherein to be appreciated by others." 
 
 Amid such words and reflections, "Wilhelm undressed 
 himself, and retired to bed with sentiments of interior satis- 
 faction. A complete romance of his intentions, in place of 
 his worthless pursuits for the mowow, was unfolded in his 
 soul, delightful phantasies led him softly into the domains of 
 sleep, and then handed him over to the sisterhood of 
 dreams, who received him with open arms, and encompassed 
 his reposing head with apparitions of heaven. 
 
 In the morning he awoke betimes, and thought over the 
 duty which he had undertaken. He returned to the house 
 of the forsaken parents, where he was received with some 
 astonishment. He suggested his proposal with modesty, 
 and soon found fewer difficulties than he had anticipated. 
 The deed was clone, and though persons, particularly strict 
 and severe, sometimes resist the past and unchangeable, and 
 thereby increase an evil, yet a deed once done will produce 
 an irresistible impression on most minds, and an apparent 
 impossibility when once performed takes its place with 
 other things of course. It was therefore easily arranged 
 that Melina should marry the daughter, but that on 
 account of her misconduct she should receive no fortune, 
 and should undertake to leave the legacy of her aunt for a 
 few years longer in her father's hands at a low rate of 
 interest. The second point, relating to an appointment 
 for the husband, presented greater difficulties. It was not 
 desirable that the imprudent maiden should be constantly 
 near them, or that the connection of a strolling player with so 
 respectable a family, who counted a superintendent amongst 
 its numbers, should be continually recalled to their minds by 
 his presence, and they entertained very little hope that the 
 government would provide him with an appointment. Both 
 parents opposed such a course, and even Wilhelm who pleaded 
 very zealously in his behalf, because he objected that a man 
 whom he despised should return to the stage, and was sure 
 that he was unworthy of so great an honour, could not succeed 
 with all his arguments. If he had known the secret motives 
 of opposition, he would have avoided the ask of attempting 
 to influence the parents. For the father, who would joyfully 
 
46 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 have preserved the society of his daughter, hated the young 
 man, because his wife had taken a fancy to him, and she could 
 not endure the thought of witnessing in her step-daughter the 
 success of a fortunate rival. And for these reasons, against 
 his will, in the company of his young wife, who had already 
 evinced a great desire to see the world, and to be admired, 
 Melina was compelled to take his leave in a few days, and to 
 seek for an engagement with a company of actors. 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 HAPPY years of youth ! happy time of first and earliest 
 /ove ! Man is then like a boy, who for hours can be delighted 
 with an echo, who can sustain unaided the whole burden of 
 conversation, and is abundantly satisfied if the unseen spirit 
 with whom he converses repeats but the final sounds of the 
 words which lie has uttered. 
 
 Such was Wilhelm's condition in the earlier, and more 
 especially in the later, period of his love for Mariana, lie had 
 endowed her with the whole wealth of his own emotions, and 
 considered himself as a very pauper who subsisted on her 
 charity. And as a landscape derives its greatest or indeed 
 its entire charm from the brilliancy of the sunshine, so in his 
 eyes was everything beautified, and embellished by the rela- 
 tion which it bore to her. 
 
 How often in order to gaze on her, had he taken his post 
 behind the scenes of the theatre, a privilege for which he had 
 entreated the permission of the manager ! Truly the magic 
 of perspective had then disappeared, but the more powerful 
 magic of love had already commenced its work. He would 
 stand for hours beside the dingy footlights, breathing the 
 vapour of the lamps, gazing upon his beloved ; and when upon 
 her return, she looked kindly upon him, he became lost in 
 delight, and though surrounded by mere laths and scenic 
 frame-work, he thought himself in Paradise. The sorry 
 scenery, the wretched flocks and herds, the tin waterfalls, 
 the pasteboard rose-trees, and the one-sided thatched cabins 
 excited in his mind charming poetic visions of ancient 
 pastoral times. Even the ballet dancers, who, upon close 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 47 
 
 inspection, were ordinary mortals enough, were not repulsive 
 to him when he beheld them on the same stage with the be- 
 loved of his soul. So certain is it that love which lends en- 
 chantment to rose bowers, myrtle groves and moonlight, can 
 also impart an appearance of animated nature to fragments of 
 wood, and to cuttings of paper. And thus a strong sea- 
 soning can lend a flavour to insipid and unpalat cable fare. 
 
 A seasoning of this kind was in truth necessary that 
 Wilhelm might tolerate the condition in which he usually 
 found both Mariana's apartment and herself. 
 
 Brought up in the house of a refined citizen, order and 
 cleanliness were essential elements of his existence, and 
 having inherited a share of his father's love of finery, he had 
 been accustomed from his earliest years, gorgeously to 
 furnish his own chamber, which he had always considered as 
 his little kingdom. The curtains of his bed were suspended 
 in thick folds, and fastened with tassels such as are used to 
 ornament thrones. A carpet adorned the centre of his 
 room and one of a finer quality was placed before his table, 
 and he had so arranged his books and various ornaments that 
 a Dutch painter might have taken good sketches therefrom 
 for drawings of still-life. His dress was a white cap, which 
 stood erect like a turban upon his head, and he had caused 
 the arms of his dressing gown to be slashed in the oriental 
 fashion. In justification of this peculiarity, he asserted that 
 long wide sleeves were an impediment to writing. In the 
 evening when he was alone and no longer apprehended 
 interruption, he usually wore a silk scarf round his body, 
 and he is said to have frequently fixed in his girdle, a dagger 
 which he had taken from an old armoury, and thus to have 
 studied and rehearsed his tragic characters, and in the same 
 garb kneeling upon the carpet, to have repeated his prayers. 
 
 How happy in those days did he consider the actors 
 whom he beheld in the possession of such varied and costly 
 wardrobes, accoutrements and arms, and skilled in the 
 unvarying practice of a stately bearing, whose spirit seemed 
 to present a mirror of all that was noble and glorious, accord- 
 ing to the opinions and passions of mankind And thus 
 did Wilhelm form his estimate of an actor's private life ; he 
 looked upon it as a succession of exalted pursuits and 
 employments of which the appearance on the boards was the 
 
48 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 culminating point, just as silver which has been long agitated 
 in the crucible, assumes at length a bright and beautiful 
 hue to the eye of the workman, proving that the metal has 
 been finally purified from all impure dross. 
 
 He was therefore amazed at first when he found himself 
 in the presence of his love, and looked down through the 
 cloud of bliss by which he was surrounded, upon the tables, 
 chairs and floor. The fragments of her temporary ornaments, 
 light and false, lay around, like the shining scales of a skinned 
 fish, mixed together in confusion and disorder. Articles 
 appropriated to personal cleanliness, combs, soap and towels 
 were no more concealed than the evidences of their use. 
 Music, play-books and shoes, washes and italian flowers, 
 needle cases, hair-pins, rouge-pots and ribbons, books and 
 straw-hats, in no wise ashamed of their proximity to each 
 other, were confounded in an element common alike to all, 
 powder and dust. But as "VVilhclm, in her company, thought 
 little of any other object, and as every thing which belonged 
 to her, or which she had touched, was hallowed in his eyes, he 
 found at length in this confused system of housekeeping, a 
 charm which he had never experienced in the neat arrange- 
 ments of his economy. When at one time he put away her 
 boddice that he might approach the piano, and at another, 
 placed her gown upon the bed, that he might provide him- 
 self with a chair, and when upon other occasions objects 
 met his eye which are more usually concealed, he felt as 
 if in all this, he were every moment approaching nearer to 
 her, and as if the union between them, were being cemented 
 by an invisible bond. 
 
 But he could not so easily reconcile with his earlier 
 impressions, the conduct of the other actors, whom he 
 sometimes met, when he first visited at her house. Busy 
 with idleness, they appeared to think but little of their 
 calling or profession. He never heard them discuss the 
 poetic merits of a play, or pronounce an opinion upon their 
 value or worthlessness ; the only question was, " How much 
 would it bring ? Is it a stock-piece ? How long will it 
 last ? How often may it be performed ?" with other inquiries 
 and observations of the same nature. Then they commonly 
 discussed the character of the manager, commenting upon 
 his parsimony, the lowness of his salaries, and his injustice 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 49 
 
 towards particular individuals. They then turned to the 
 public, observing that the latter seldom rewarded the most 
 meritorious actor with their approbation, that the national 
 theatre was daily improving, that the professional actor was 
 gradually rising in public esteem according to his true 
 merits, and that he never could be esteemed and honomvil 
 enough. They also discoursed much of coffee houses and 
 wine gardens, and of the occurrences there ; how much debt 
 one of their comrades had contracted, and what deduction 
 from his pay he must consequently endure ; of the inequality 
 of their weekly salaries ; and of the cabals of some rival 
 company ; then, finally, they would again consider the great 
 and Je-< rved attention of the public towards themselves, not 
 tting the influence which the theatre was calculated to 
 exercise upon the country and upon the world at lar-e. 
 
 All these things which had formerly cost Wilhelm many 
 a weary hour, thronged again upon his memory, as his steed 
 bore him slowly homewards, and as he revolved in his tnind 
 i!ie various incidents which had occurred upon his journey. 
 He had himself actually witnessed the commotion which 
 the elopement of a young maiden can occasion, not only in 
 the family of a respectable citizen, but even in an entire 
 village. The scenes upon the high road, and at the police 
 office, the sentiments of Melina, and all the various circum- 
 stances which had happened, appeared again before him and 
 exeited in his keen and anxious mind so much inquietude, 
 that he could bear it no longer, but giving spurs to his 
 horse, he hastened towards the city. 
 
 But by this course he only encountered new vexations. 
 Werner his friend and intended brother-in-law was waiting 
 for him, in order to commence a serious, important and 
 unexpected conversation. 
 
 Werner was one of those tried individuals of firm princi- 
 ples whom we usually designate cold beings, because they 
 are not quickly or visibly excited by the occurrences of life. 
 His intercourse with Wilhelm was one never-ending dispute, 
 which only served however to strengthen their affection, for 
 in spite of discordant dispositions, each derived advantage 
 from his intercourse with the other. Werner was satisfied 
 that he was able to restrain with bit and bridle the superior 
 but somewhat extravagant spirit of Wilhelm, and the latter 
 
 E 
 
50 WILHELM METSTEK'S 
 
 frequently won a splendid triumph when he succeeded in 
 carrying his companion with him in his moments of enthu- 
 siasm. Thus each found mental exercise in the company of the 
 other, they were accustomed to meet daily, and it might well 
 have been said that their anxiety to converse together was 
 heightened by their utter impossibility to comprehend each 
 other. But in reality as they were both worthy men, they 
 associated together because they had one common end in 
 view, and neither could ever understand why he could not 
 convert his friend to his own peculiar views. 
 
 Werner observed that Wilhelm's visits had for some time 
 back been less frequent, also, that in his favourite subjects 
 of conversation, he had become short and inattentive, and 
 that he had ceased to engage in vivid accounts of his own 
 peculiar impressions, things which afford an unmistakeable 
 evidence of a mind, finding repose and satisfaction in the 
 society of a friend. The precise and thoughtful Werner 
 endeavoured first to examine his own conduct for the origin of 
 the fault which he had observed ; but certain rumours soon 
 set him on the right track, rumours in fact which some 
 imprudences of Wilhelm soon reduced to certainty, lie 
 had commenced an inquiry, and learned, that he had for 
 some time past openly visited an actress, that he had con- 
 versed witli her upon the stage, and had actually accompanied 
 her to her house. He became inconsolable when he was 
 made aware of their nightly meetings, for he understood that 
 Mariana was a seductive girl, who was in all probability 
 extracting money from his friend, whilst she herself was 
 supported by another dissipated lover. 
 
 When his suspicions had almost attained certainty, he 
 determined to speak to Wilhelm upon the subject, and had 
 already arranged his plan for the purpose, when the latter 
 returned, disappointed and dejected from his journey. 
 
 Werner that same evening stated to him all that he had 
 learnt, first in a calm tone, and then with the serious earnest- 
 ness of well-intentioned friendship. He left no topic unex- 
 plained, and allowed his friend a full taste of all the bit- 
 terness which cold- hearted men can with virtuous malice so 
 abundantly dispense to persons in love. But he effected 
 little, as one may easily imagine. Wilhelm answered with 
 deep emotion, but with perfect self-composure, " You do 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 51 
 
 not know the girl. Appearances are, perhaps, against her-, 
 but I am as confident of her faith and virtue as I am of my 
 own love." 
 
 Werner adhered to his accusations, and proposed to addiuv 
 proofs and witnesses. Wilhelm rejected them, and parted 
 from his friend in a spirit of discontent and sorrow, resem- 
 bling a man whose decayed but firmly fixed tooth has been 
 seized, and vainly pulled at by some unskilful dentist. 
 
 Wilhelm was beyond measure distressed that the image 
 of Mariana had been darkened, and almost defaced in his 
 imagination, first, by the fancies which he had indulged upon 
 his journey, and then by the unfriendliness of Werner. He 
 therefore adopted the most certain means of restoring it in 
 all its pristine purity and beauty, for that very night he 
 hastened along the well-known pat h way to find shelter in 
 Mariana's arms. She received him with transports of joy, 
 for as she had seen him pass her house on his way into 
 town, she expected him at nightfall, and we may easily 
 suppose, that every doubt was soon effaced from his heart. 
 In truth her tenderness unlocked all his confidence, and he 
 related to her how excessively, not only the public, but even 
 his friend had sinned against her. 
 
 Some cheerful conversation led them to advert to the first 
 season of their acquaintance, a recurrence to which topic never 
 fails to form one of the most delightful entertainments of two 
 lovers. The first steps which have introduced us to the 
 labyrinth of love are so pleasant, the first views so captivating, 
 that we always retain them in our memory with delight. 
 Each claims an advantage over the other : each one first felt 
 the pangs of devoted love, and in this contest each would 
 rather appear to be the vanquished than the victor. 
 
 Wilhelm repeated to Mariana, once more what she had so 
 often heard on the stage, that she had soon succeeded in at- 
 tracting his attention from the performance to herself, that 
 her figure, her acting and her voice had so completely capti- 
 vated him, that at length he only attended those plays inwhich 
 she performed, that he had often gone behind the scenes, and 
 had stood near her unobserved: and then he spoke with delight 
 of that happy evening upon which he hadfound an opportunity 
 to render her a service, and to engage her in conversation. 
 
 But Mariana denied that she had left him so long un- 
 
52 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 noticed, she assured him she had often watched him on 
 the promenade, and in evidence thereof she described the dress 
 which he had worn upon those occasions ; she assured him 
 that he had attracted her even then more than any other per- 
 son, and that she had long ardently desired his acquaintance 1 . 
 
 How joyfully did Wilhelm believe it all ! How easily was 
 he persuaded, that when he approached she had felt herself 
 drawn towards him by an irresistible charm, that she had 
 joined him intentionally behind the scenes in order that she 
 might see him nearer and have an opportunity of making 
 his acquaintance, and that at length, when his reserve and 
 bashfulness could not be overcome, she had herself found an 
 opportunity, and compelled him to hand her a glass of 
 lemonade. 
 
 The hours passed rapidly away in this endearing contest, for 
 they pursued it through every little circumstance of their 
 romantic attachment, and Wilhelm at length left his beloved, 
 with his tranquillity fully restored, and with the firm resolu- 
 tion of putting his plan in execution without delay. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 His father and mother had made the arrangements neces- 
 sary for his journey, but certain trifling preparations which 
 were still required for his outfit, delayed his departure for a 
 few days. Wilhelm availed himself of this time to write a 
 letter to Mariana, with a view of bringing to a decision the 
 business upon which she had hitherto avoided communicating 
 with him. The letter was in these terms. 
 
 " In the sweet obscurity of night, which has so often 
 sheltered me in thine arms, I sit and think and write to 
 thee, and all my thoughts and feelings are wholly thine. 
 O, Mariana ! I who am the happiest of mortals feel like a 
 bridegroom who stands within the festive chamber, contem- 
 plating the new world which will soon open before him, and 
 during the sacred ceremony imagines himself, in deep trans- 
 port, to stand before the mysterious curtain, from whence 
 the rapture of love whispers out to him. 
 
 " I have persuaded myself not to see thee for a few days, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 53 
 
 and I have found satisfaction for this privation in the hope 
 of soon being for ever with thee, of remaining entirely thine. 
 Shall I repeat my wishes ? Yes, I feel I must, for it seems 
 as if hitherto thou hadst never understood me. 
 
 " How often in that low voice of affection which, whilst it de- 
 sires to possess all, ventures to utter but little, have I searched 
 in thy heart to discover thy wish for a lasting union. Thou 
 hast certainly understood me. For the same desire must 
 have ripened in thine own heart, and thou must have 
 comprehended me in that kiss, in the balmy peaceful iu s> 
 of that happy evening. I learnt then to value thy moti 
 and how did such a feeling increase my love ! When another 
 woman would have acted with artifice, in order to ripen 
 by unnecessary sunshine the resolution of her lover's 
 heart, to induce a proposal and secure a promise, you 
 drew back, silenced the half expressed intentions of your 
 lover, and sought by an apparent indifference to conceal your 
 ival feelings ! What a being must I have been had I failed 
 to recognize in such tokens, that pure and disinterested 
 affection, which cares only for its object. Trust to me and be 
 calm ! We belong to each other, and by living for eacli 
 other, we shall neither of us forsake or lose any thing. 
 
 " Accept then this hand. With solemnity I offer this un- 
 necessary pledge. We have already experienced all the 
 delights of love, but there is new bliss in the thought of 
 duration. Do not make inquiries cast aside care fortune 
 protects love ; and the more certainly, as love is easily con- 
 tented. 
 
 " My heart has long since abandoned my paternal dwelling. 
 It belongs to thee as truly as my spirit lives upon the 
 stage. Fate allows no other man so to attain his every 
 wish. Sleep abandons my eyes, and like the glow of an ever 
 new Aurora, thy love and thy happiness rise up perpetually 
 before me. 
 
 " Scarcely can I prevent myself from rushing to thy side, 
 and constraining thy consent to our union, and commencing 
 on the morrow's dawn my career in the world. But no, I 
 will restrain myself. I will not adopt an ill-advised rash 
 and foolish course, my measures are taken and I will execute 
 them calmly. 
 
 " I am acquainted with the manager Serlo. The journey 
 
54 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 I contemplate will lead me directly to him. For a whole 
 year he has wished that his company of actors possessed 
 some portion of my animation and enthusiasm for the stage. 
 Doubtless he will receive me well. More reasons than one 
 forbid that I should join thy company, and Serlo's theatre 
 is so far from hence, that I shall be able at first to conceal 
 my project. I shall thus find sufficient to support me at 
 once. I shall make general inquiries, become acquainted 
 with the actors, and return for thee. 
 
 " Thou seest, Mariana, what I compel myself to do, in order, 
 certainly, to obtain thee. Since it can afford me no pleasure 
 to be so long separated from thee, and to know that thou 
 art alone. But when I once more recal thy love, which to 
 me is every thing, if thou wilt concede my prayer before wo 
 part, and give me thy hand in the eye of heaven, I can go in 
 peace. Between us it can be but a form, but then a form 
 so sweet the blessing of heaven joined to the blessing of 
 earth ! It can .be celebrated sweetly and expeditiously in 
 the Prince's neighbouring chapel. 
 
 " I have money sufficient to begin with. Let us divide it. 
 It will suffice for both ; before it is expended heaven will 
 assist us further. 
 
 " Dearest love, I have no apprehension. So joyful a com- 
 mencement must end happily. I have never doubted that 
 any man who is earnest can succeed in the world ; and I 
 feel confidence enough to win a sufficient maintenance for 
 two persons, or for more if necessary. It is often said that 
 the world is ungrateful for my part 1 have never yet 
 known it to be thankless when one has discovered the proper 
 mode of rendering it a service. My whole soul is fired at 
 the thought that I shall at last be able to address the hearts 
 of men in a strain which they have long been anxious to 
 hear. A thousand times have I been utterly distressed in 
 my inmost soul, keenly sensitive as I am for the honour of 
 the stage, when I have witnessed the performance of some de- 
 luded being, who has fancied himself competent to stir the 
 hearts of men with words of power. The very tone of a pipe 
 is more musical and nobler to the ear. It is incredible what 
 profanity men in their utter ignorance can commit. 
 
 " The theatre has often warred with the pulpit. They 
 should not, I think, be at strife. How ardently I wish, that 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 55 
 
 in both, the honour of nature and of God were celebrated by 
 none but noble men. These are not dreams, my love. As 
 thy heart tells me that thou dost love. I seize the brilliant 
 thought, and 1 affirm no, I do not affirm, but I hope and 
 trust, that we shall appear to mankind as a pair of noble 
 spirits, to open their hearts, to move their natures, to present 
 them \\ith heavenly enjoyments, as sure as those joys were 
 heavenly which I have experienced when reclining upon thy 
 bosom, because they withdrew us from ourselves, and exalte'd 
 us above ourselves. 
 
 " I cannot conclude. I have already said too much, and yet 
 I know not whether I have as yet exhausted all that concerns 
 you, for no words can express the tumult which rages in my 
 bosom. 
 
 " But accept this letter, my love, I have read and re-read 
 it, and find that I ought to have begun it differently and 
 yet it contains all that is needful for thee to know, what 
 must be my course before I can return to thy bosom in the 
 rapture of delicious love. I feel like a prisoner who is 
 tly engaged in filing off his chains within his dungeon. 
 To my unconscious sleeping parents, I bid good night. 
 Farewell, dearest, farewell ! At length I conclude. My 
 eyes have closed repeatedly it is already far in the night." 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 THE day seemed long, while Wilhelm, with his letter 
 carefully folded in his pocket, felt consumed with anxiety to 
 visit Mariana, and it was scarcely dark when, contrary to 
 his custom, he proceeded stealthily to her dwelling. He 
 had intended to announce himself for the night, and then to 
 leave her for a short time, but he had resolved before his de- 
 parture, to place his letter in her hand, and upon his return at 
 midnight, either to obtain her answer and her consent, or to 
 force it from her by the warmth of his caresses. He fle\v to 
 her arms, and as he pressed himself to her bosom, could 
 scarcely contain himself for joy. The ardour of his own 
 ('motions concealed from him at first that she did not receive 
 
50 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 him with her accustomed cheerfulness, but as she could not 
 long hide her painful embarrassment, so she pleaded a slight 
 indisposition in excuse. She complained of headache, and 
 would not consent to his proposal to return again at midnight. 
 He suspected no evil, and ceased to insist, but he felt 
 that this was not the moment to deliver his letter. He kept 
 it, therefore, and as her repeated uneasiness, and remarks 
 politely suggested the propriety of his departure, in the 
 tumult of insatiable love he seized one of her handker- 
 chiefs, thrust it into his pocket, and reluctantly quitted her 
 embraces and her house. He returned home, but was unable 
 to remain there long, whereupon he dressed himself, and 
 once more went into the air. 
 
 After wandering up and down several streets, a stranger 
 accosted him, who inquired the way to a certain hotel. 
 Wilhelm offered to show him the house. The stranger asked 
 the name of the street, and the names of the persons who 
 occupied several large mansions which they passed, and 
 criticised the nature of certain police regulations of the 
 town. They thus became engaged in a highly interesting 
 conversation, when they finally reached the door of the 
 hotel. The stranger compelled his guide to enter to drink 
 a glass of punch ; he then communicated his own name, and 
 the name of his native town ; he also stated the nature of the 
 business which had brought him hither, and requested a 
 similar mark of confidence from Wilhelm. The latter at 
 once mentioned his name, and his place of abode. 
 
 " Are you then a relation of that Meister who once pos- 
 sessed a splendid collection of works of art?" inquired the 
 stranger. 
 
 " Yes, I am," replied the other. " I was ten years old at 
 the decease of my grandfather, and it grieved me exceedingly 
 to be obliged to witness the sale of so many beautiful 
 objects." 
 
 " But your father realized a large sum of money by them." 
 
 " You know all about it then ?" 
 
 11 O yes ; I visited those treasures whilst they were yet in 
 your house. Your grandfather was not only a collector, 
 but a person well acquainted with art. In his earlier happier 
 years he had been in Italy, and had brought back many 
 treasures with him from that country, which money cannot 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 57 
 
 now procure. He was the owner of some splendid pic- 
 tures by the best masters. Inspecting his drawings, you 
 could scarcely have believed your eyes. Amongst his 
 collection of marbles were several matchless fragments, 
 IK* had a set of bronzes instructive and select, his coins 
 were illustrative of art and history, and his few gems 
 entitled to the highest praise. His whole collection was 
 well arranged, although the rooms and apartments of the old 
 house were not symmetrically built." 
 
 " You may imagine how much we children lost when all 
 those treasures were taken down and packed up for re- 
 moval. It was the first sorrowful moment of my existence. 
 I cannot describe how empty the chambers appeared as we 
 witnessed the several objects disappear one after another, 
 which had delighted us from our childhood, and which we 
 had considered as secure as the house or even as the town 
 
 itself/' 
 
 " If I am not mistaken, your father placed the produce of 
 the sale in the hands of a neighbour with whom he com- 
 menced a sort of partnership in business." 
 
 " Quite right, and their joint speculations succeeded 
 admirably. Within the last twelve years they have largely 
 increased their fortune, and are on that account all the 
 more devoted to business. Old Werner too has a son far 
 more inclined towards such a pursuit than I am." 
 
 4< I am sorry indeed that this neighbourhood has lost such 
 a treasure as your grandfather's cabinet. I saw it shortly 
 before it was disposed of, and I believe I may say that I was 
 the cause of the sale which took place. A rich nobleman 
 who was a great amateur, but who in so important a matter 
 did not rely upon his own unaided judgment, sent me hither 
 and solicited my advice. During six days I inspected the 
 cabinet, and on the seventh, I advised my friend to pay the 
 sum demanded without hesitation. You, who were at that 
 time a lively youth, frequently accompanied me, you ex- 
 plained to me the subjects of the paintings, and were able 
 to give a good account of the whole cabinet." 
 
 " I remember such a person, but I should not have recog- 
 nize him in you." 
 
 " It is to be sure a long time ago, and we all change more 
 or less with time. If I remember well, there was a favourite 
 
58 TVILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 picture of yours in the collection, from which you would 
 scarcely permit me to look away." 
 
 " Quite right, it represented the story of the king's son, 
 who pined for love of his father's wife." 
 
 " It was not by any means the best picture either in com- 
 position, in tone of colour, or in treatment." 
 
 " Of those qualities I am no judge. I do not understand 
 them. It is the subject which charms me in a picture, not 
 the painter's art." 
 
 "Your grandfather was of a different opinion in such 
 matters, for the greater part of his collection consisted of 
 admirable pieces in which one could not help admiring the 
 execution of the artist, let the subjects have been what they 
 might. This identical picture hung in the outermost 
 chamber, a sign that he placed but little value upon it." 
 
 " Tes, it was in that spot where we children were always 
 permitted to play, and where this picture made an indelible 
 impression upon me, which not even your criticism, highly 
 as I respect it, would be able to efface, if we only now stood 
 before it. How I pity a youth who is compelled to bury in 
 his bosom the sweet impulse, the blessed inheritance which 
 nature has imparted to him, and who must conceal within 
 himself that fire which should warm and animate others, so 
 that he consumes away under unspeakable pain ! How I 
 pity the unfortunate maiden who is compelled to devote 
 herself to another, when her heart has already found an 
 object worthy of her true and pure affection !" 
 
 " But in truth these feelings are very unlike the emotions 
 by which a lover of art is accustomed to investigate the works 
 of great painters, and probably had the cabinet continued to 
 be the property of your family, a taste for such performances 
 would have sprung up within you, and you would have learnt 
 to consider some other object than yourself and your indi- 
 vidual fancies, in estimating works of art." 
 
 " Indeed the sale of that cabinet afflicted me exceedingly, 
 and I have often missed it since, in my more mature years, 
 but when I recollect that the loss was indispensable to the 
 unfolding of a talent within me, which will affect my career 
 more strongly than those inanimate pictures could have done, 
 I feel contented and reverence fate, who knows so well how 
 to accomplish what is good for me and for others." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 59 
 
 " It grieves me again to hear that word fate uttered by a 
 youth who is now at the very age when men usually ascribe 
 their ungovernable propensities to the determination of the 
 higher powers." 
 
 " Then do you not believe in fate ? Is there no power 
 which rules over us and converts every thing to our good ?" 
 
 " The question here is not of my faith, nor is this the 
 place to unfold how I have sought to form an idea of things 
 which are incomprehensible to us all the question here is 
 only how we may. consider them to our greatest advantage ? 
 The web of life is woven of necessity and chance. 
 Man's reason stands between them and governs both, 
 treating necessity as the foundation of its being and at the 
 same time guiding the operation of chance to its own 
 advantage, for man only deserves to be called a god of this 
 earth, as long as in the exercise of his reason he stands firm 
 and immoveable. Woe then to him who has been accus- 
 tomed from youth tn confound necessity with arbitrary will, 
 anil to ascribe to chance a sort of reason, which it seems 
 a kind of religious duty to obey! What is this but to 
 ivnnunce our own judgment and to allow unopposed sway 
 to our inclinations. We deceive ourselves with the belief 
 that it is an act of piety to pursue our course without 
 reflection, to submit to the guidance of agreeable accidents, 
 and finally to dignify the result of such a fluctuating life 
 with the appellation of a heavenly guidance." 
 
 " Have you never been in a position where some trifling 
 occurrence has caused you to adopt a certain line of 
 conduct, where some accident has happened to you, and a 
 train of unlooked-for events has finally led to a result 
 which you yourself could scarcely have foreseen ? Should 
 not this inspire a confidence in fate, a trust in some such 
 destiny ?" 
 
 u With such opinions as these no maiden could preserve 
 her virtue, and no man could keep his money in his purse, 
 since there are opportunities enough for getting rid of both. 
 That mortal alone is worthy of esteem, who knows what is 
 advantageous to himself and to others, and who labours to 
 conquer his own self-will. Every man is master of his own 
 happiness, as the artist is of the raw material which he would 
 mould into a certain form. But the art of attaining hap- 
 
60 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 \ 
 
 piness resembles all other arts, the capacity alone is born 
 within us, it needs to be cultivated, and practised with the 
 greatest care." 
 
 These and other subjects were discussed between them 
 till at length they separated, without appearing to have pre- 
 cisely convinced each other, but they appointed a place of 
 meeting for the following day. 
 
 Wilhelm continued to pursue his course through several 
 streets. At length he heard the sweet echoes of clarionets, 
 of horns, and of bassoons, and his heart beat joyously within 
 him. The sounds proceeded from some travelling musicians, 
 who were playing several delicious airs with admirable t:i>te. 
 He addressed them, and for a small sum of money they 
 agreed to accompany him to Mariana's house. A clump of 
 tall trees ornamented the open space before her dwelling, and 
 under these he placed his serenaders. He himself reclined 
 upon a seat at some distance, and abandoned himself to the 
 influence of the soothing melody, which filled the air in the 
 cool and balmy night. Stretched at length beneath the lovely 
 stars, his whole existence resembled a golden dream. " And 
 she listens to these sweet sounds," he said within his heart, 
 " and she knows whose remembrance of her, whose love, it is 
 that makes the night thus musical, even in absence we are 
 united by these sweet strains, as in every separation we are 
 joined together by the delicious concord of love. Two loving 
 hearts resemble two magnetic needles, the same influence 
 which sways the one directs the other also, for it is only one 
 power which works in both, one feeling that actuates them : 
 clasped in her embrace then can I conceive the possibility of 
 ever being disunited from her ? and yet I must leave her, to 
 seek a sanctuary for our love where she may be for ever mine. 
 How often has it happened to me during our absence, when 
 my thoughts have been fixed upon her, that I have touched 
 a book, a dress, or some other object, of hers, it seemed as 
 if I had touched her hand, so completely have I been lost in 
 the apprehension of her presence. And to remember those 
 moments of rapture which have recoiled alike from the light 
 of day, and from the eye of the cold spectator, for the joyful 
 remembrance of which the gods themselves would be content 
 to abandon their happy state of pure felicity, as if the 
 recollection could renew the delight of that cup of joy, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. Gl 
 
 which carries our senses beyond this earth, and wraps our souls 
 in the purest bliss of heaven. And her form " He became 
 lost in contemplation, his peace was converted into longing 
 he leaned against a tree, and cooled his warm cheek against 
 the bark, whilst the eager night wind wafted away the breat h 
 which issued in sighs from the depths of his pure bosom, lie 
 sought for the handkerchief which he had taken from her 
 his search was in vain he had forgotten it. His lips were 
 parched, and his whole frame trembled with desire. 
 
 The music ceased ; and it seemed as if he had suddenly 
 descended from the lofty regions to which his emotion had 
 exalted him. His agitation increased as the feelings of his 
 heart were no longer supported and refreshed by the sounds of 
 soothing melody. He took his seat upon the threshold, and 
 Mie once more tranquil. He kissed the brass knocker 
 of the door, he kissed the entrance over which her feet passed 
 daily, and he warmed it with the pressure of his bosom. 
 Then he sat silent once more for a short time, and his fancy 
 pictured her behind her curtains, attired in the white night- 
 dress with the rose-coloured ribbon encircling her head, and 
 he imagined himself so near to her, that he thought she must 
 be dreaming of him. His thoughts were lovely like the spirits 
 of the evening, peace and desire arose alternately within him, 
 love ran its tremulous hand in a thousand varying moods 
 over all the chords of his soul, and it seemed as if the music of 
 the spheres remained silent above him, to listen to the soft 
 melody of his heart. 
 
 If he had had his master-key about him, with which he was 
 accustomed to open Mariana's door, he could not have 
 restrained himself, but would have entered the temple of 
 love. But he retired slowly, and with dreamy steps he 
 turned in among the trees, his object was to proceed 
 homewards and yet he paused and looked round repeatedly. 
 At length having summoned up resolution, he proceeded for- 
 wards, but on reaching the corner of the street, he turned 
 round once more, when it appeared to him as if Mariana's 
 door opened and a dark figure issued from the house. He was 
 too far off to see distinctly, and before he had time to collect 
 himself and to observe accurately ,the figure disappeared in the 
 darkness, but he thought he saw it once more passing before 
 a white house. He stood still and looked eagerly, but before 
 
62 WILHELM MEISTEK'S 
 
 he could determine to pursue the phantom, it had vanished. 
 Through what street had the man gone, if he were a man ? 
 
 As a person whose path has been suddenly illuminated 
 by a flash of lightning, immediately afterwards seeks in vain 
 with dazzled eyes to find in the succeeding darkness those 
 forms which had accompanied him and the connection of the 
 road so all seemed obscure to the vision and to the heart 
 of Wilhelm. And as a midnight spirit which at first creates 
 unspeakable alarm, in the calm moments which succeed, is 
 considered only as the child of fear, and the wild apparition 
 creates endless doubt within the soul, in the same manner 
 was Wilhelm overpowered with agitation and suspense as 
 leaning against a pillar he paid but little heed to the dawning 
 of the morning or the crowing of the cocks, until the early 
 tradespeople began to stir and dismissed him home. 
 
 On his way he succeeded in effacing from his imagination 
 his strange illusion by the most satisfactory reasons, but 
 that sweet harmonious stillness of the night, to which he 
 now looked back as to an unreal vision, had also fled. To 
 ease his heart and to impress a seal upon his returning faith 
 in Mariana, he now drew her handkerchief from the pocket 
 of his coat. The rustling of a note which fell, caused him 
 to withdraw the handkerchief from his lips he opened the 
 note and read : 
 
 " By the love I feel for thee, little simpleton, what was 
 the matter last night? I will come to thee this evening. 
 I can well suppose thou art sorry to leave this place, but 
 have patience, I will come for thee before the fair. But 
 listen, do not wear that dark coloured dress any more, it 
 makes thee look like the witch of Endor. Did I not send 
 thee the charming white night gown, that I might enfold a 
 snowy lambkin in my arms ? Always send your notes by 
 the old Sybil. The devil himself has chosen her for our 
 Iris." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. G3 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 THE man who struggles earnestly for the success of any 
 enterprise in which he may have embarked, be its object 
 good or evil, cannot fail to enlist our warmest sympathies 
 in his favour, but when the end is once attained, our interest 
 in the matter wholly ceases the finished and the complete 
 can no longer fix our attention, and this will more especially 
 be the case, if we ourselves should ever have foretold an 
 evil issue to the undertaking. 
 
 We shall not therefore entertain our readers with a 
 detailed narrative of the grief and distress which our 
 unhappy friend, endured upon the unexpected frustration 
 of all his fondest hopes and wishes. Indeed we may pass 
 over several subsequent years of his life, and resume our 
 narrative upon beholding him once more happily employed. 
 But we must first advert to a few incidents indispensable 
 for the connexion of our story. 
 
 A pestilence or malignant fever ever rages with great 
 violence in a healthy and vigorous frame, and for this reason 
 when Wilhelm was unexpectedly overtaken by deep misfor- 
 tune, all his energies were completely prostrated. As when by 
 accident a collection of fireworks ignites in the preparation, 
 and the tubes which, loaded and filled with powder, would 
 if discharged in the manner intended by the artist, have 
 presented a beautiful succession of brilliant devices, but 
 now hiss and explode, spreading tumult and danger around, 
 so in Wilhelm's bosom did happiness and hope, delight 
 and joy, realities and delusion all mingle together in ruinous 
 confusion. In such moments of desolation, the friend who 
 has hastened to bring relief becomes actually paralyzed, and 
 the sufferer himself may consider it a blessing if his senses 
 forsake him. 
 
64 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 Days of unmingled agony succeeded, days of agony still 
 
 returning and intentionally renewed ; lor sorrow such MS we 
 are describing is ever hailed as a boon from the hand oi' 
 IIM.I ure. Wilhelm at such times felt MS i{' he had not wholly 
 
 his beloved; his grief was now one incessMiit struggle 
 to retain posse.-.-ion of that happiness which was ilist, 
 departing from his soul, and he found :aptniv in the belief 
 that its re.ention \\as still possible, in the hope that he 
 ini^ht yet secure a brief restoration of those joys which were 
 about to abandon him for ever. And thus a body cannot 
 be considered wholly dead, so long as the work of decay is 
 still proceeding, so long as those powers, \\ hich seek vainly 
 to execute their original functions, exhaust, themselves in 
 destroying the frame which they once animated, and not 
 until all has become mouldered down, and the whole is 
 mingled together in a mass of indifferent i the 
 
 sad and vacant feeling of death arise within n ious- 
 
 0f life eiti&Ctj which can only be restored by the breath 
 of Him who lives for ever. 
 
 A nd in a disposit ion so fresh, so uncorrnpted, and so genial 
 as Wilhelm's, there was no lack of materials upon which 
 
 Action, ruin and death mi^ht expend t hem-H\ < -. and 
 the (juicklv healing power of youth lent additional food and 
 
 ^th to the influence of grief. The blow had struck to 
 the very roots of his existence. But Werner, who 
 now necessarily his confidant, attacked the monster pa.->ion 
 of his friend with all his vigour, and sought to pierce into 
 its inmost life. The opport unity was favourable ; evidence 
 of the past could easily be procured, and histories and 
 examples of a similar kind were abundant enough. He 
 pursued his course, step by step, with such cool determi- 
 nation, that he did not leave his friend the comfort of the 
 slightest momentary delusion. He destroyed every retreat 
 in which he might have found refuge from despair, so that 
 in the end nature, unwilling to see her favourite wholly 
 perish, visited him with illness, and thus afforded him a 
 species of relief. 
 
 A violent attack of fever with its usual accompaniments, 
 medicines, excitement and weariness, together with the 
 untiring attentions of his friends arid the love of his own 
 family, a blessing which we first learn properly to value in 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 65 
 
 moments of affliction and want afforded him new materials 
 for thought and provided him with a species of melancholy 
 entertain me lit; but not until his health had improved, that 
 >i until his strength was exhausted, did \Vilhelmlook 
 with dismay into the dark abyss of his direful misery, as 
 one looks down into the Bloomy crater of an extinct volcano. 
 
 He did not cease to reproach himself bitterly that he was 
 able after so sad a loss to enjoy a single tranquil or in- 
 different, moment. He despised his own heart and longed 
 for the consolation of grief and tears. 
 
 In order th awaken these feelings again, he 
 
 in memory to all the scenes of his by-gone happi- 
 ness. He painted a picture of his past bliss in glowing 
 colouri, upon which he feasted his imagination, and when 
 he had attained the highest pitch to which his f'aucy 
 could iicn the sunlight of former days seemed to 
 
 animate his limbs and to warm his bosom, he would look 
 into the terrible abyss which was before him, he 
 would feast his eyes with a view of the appalling chasm, 
 plunge into its depths and wring from nature the most 
 titter sufferings. Thus did he torment himself with un 
 ing cruelty. And youth which is so rich in latent powers 
 : what it wastes, when to the anguish of a single loss, 
 it adds so many woes of its own < now 
 
 for the first tit a real value to joys which can nevt^r 
 
 be restored. And Wilhelm felt so convinced that his loss 
 was the first, the last, the greatest he could ever experience, 
 that he spurned all consolation which promised that his 
 sorrow could ever be assuaged. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ACCUSTOMED thus to torment himself, he now subjected 
 to the most relentless criticism those pursuits which next to 
 and in (ton junction with it, had ever afforded hii; 
 test consolation and hope, viz. his talents as a po 
 an actor. But he could henceforth detect in his compos it 
 nothing better than a spiritless imitation of antiqi; 
 devoid of real merit he considered them as i 
 
66 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 pedantic boyish exercises, utterly destitute of every spark of' 
 natural feeling, of truth and inspiration. In his poems he 
 saw only a monotonous succession of words in which the 
 most common-place thoughts and emotions were joined 
 together by wretched rhymes ; and thus he destroyed every 
 hope, every prospect of finding happiness in such pursuits. 
 
 His skill as an actor was next criticised and condemned 
 with similar severity. He blamed himself for not having 
 earlier discovered the complete vanity of his pretensions. 
 His figure, his gait, his actions, and his declamation were 
 all in turn reviewed, and he abandoned unequivocally every 
 claim to excellence or to merit which might have distin- 
 guished him from ordinary actors, and by this means 
 added immeasurably to his own silent despair. If it be a 
 difficult task to renounce a woman's love, it is no less 
 bitter to forsake the society of the muses, to acknowledge 
 ourselves for ever unworthy of their company, and to forfeit 
 tli at sweetest and most delicious approbation, which is pub- 
 licly bestowed upon the appearance, the action, and decla- 
 mation of a performer. 
 
 Thus did Wilhelm commence to learn the practice of resig- 
 nation, and from that moment he dedicated his abilities 
 with the greatest zeal to the pursuits of trade. To the 
 astonishment of his friend, and to the supreme satisfaction 
 of his father, no person could now be more attentive than 
 Wilhelm at the office, or to the transaction of business upon 
 change, or in the warehouse, and he manifested the most 
 exemplary diligence and punctuality in his care of the 
 correspondence and accounts. It is true that his course 
 was not marked by that cheerful activity which to the 
 industrious man ever brings its own reward, when he pursues 
 with regularity and perseverance the occupation to which 
 he has been born ; his career was followed in silent obedience 
 to the voice of duty, founded it is true upon the best 
 principles, supported by conviction and rewarded by self 
 approbation, a result however, which even when conscience 
 crowns our exertions with approval, is frequently attained 
 at a cost of a stifled sigh. In this manner did Wilhelm 
 for a time persist in active life, supported by the conviction 
 that his severe trial had been appointed by fate for his 
 benefit. He was glad to have received a timely though 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 67 
 
 somewhat severe lesson on the advantage of embarking 
 early in a proper course, knowing that many others have 
 to expiate with late and bitter repentance the mistakes of 
 youthful inexperience. For men usual Iv delay as In;: 
 possible, to renounce the follies which they worship, as well 
 as to confess any capital error they may have commit ted, 
 and are slow to* acknowledge a truth which may lead them 
 to despair. 
 
 But resolved as lie was to abandon all his beloved pursuits, 
 some time was etill necessary to convince him fully of his 
 misfortune. At length, however, by irresistible arguments. 
 he so completely annihilated every prospect of indulging 
 dreams of future love, of poetical composition and theatrical 
 representation, that lie determined to destroy every trace 
 of his former folly and what ever could in any wav restore 
 it to his recollection. For this purpose one evening he 
 lighted a fire in his apartment, and brought forth a little 
 box of relics in which a thousand trifles had been preserved, 
 which in eventful moments, he had either received or stolen 
 from Mariana. Every withered flower which met his eye, 
 reminded him of the happy time when it bloomed fresh and 
 bright within her hair, every note recalled once more the 
 happy meeting to which he had been invited, and each 
 ribbon brought back the memony of that sweet resting 
 place, where his head had so often tranquilly reposed her 
 beautiful bosom. How could he help feeling all those blissful 
 emotions, which he had long ago considered dead, revive 
 again within his breast ? Was it not inevitable that the 
 passion which in the absence of his mistress he had subdued, 
 should burst into new life in the presence of these records 
 of affection ? We first remember the dreary gloom of a 
 dark and cloudy day, when some solitary sunbeam pierces 
 through and enlivens us with the joyous brightness of a 
 cheerful hour. 
 
 Not wholly without emotion did Wilhelm witness these 
 treasures which he had so long considered sacred, successively 
 disappear in smoke and flame. More than once indeed he 
 felt a shudder of remorse at his work of destruction, and a 
 pearl necklace and an embroidered handkerchief still re- 
 mained uninjured when he suddenly determined to feed the 
 decaying fire with the poetical inspirations of his youth. 
 
68 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 Until that hour he had from the earliest development of 
 his mind carefully preserved every production of his pen. 
 His writings still lay packed together at the bottom of the 
 chest in which they had been placed, when he had projected 
 his elopement. How different were the feelings with which 
 he now viewed these records of bygone days, from the sensa- 
 tions he had experienced when he gathered them together. 
 
 "When after the lapse of a considerable time we chance 
 to open a letter, which under certain circumstances may 
 have been written and sealed, but not reaching the friend 
 to whom it was addressed, has been returned to us again, 
 we experience a strange sensation upon breaking our own 
 seal and holding communion with our altered self as \vith a 
 third person. Such a feeling strongly seized our friend as 
 he opened the first packet which came to his hands and 
 flung their scattered sheets into the flames. They were 
 brightly blazing at the moment when Werner suddenly 
 entered. He expressed his surprise at Wilhelm's employ- 
 ment, and asked what had occurred. 
 
 "I am affording a proof," said Wilhelm, " of my earnest- 
 ness in abandoning a pursuit for which I was not born," 
 and so saying he consigned a second packet to the flames. 
 Werner endeavoured to prevent him, but it was too late. 
 
 " I do not understand why you proceed to this extremity," 
 observed Werner. "Why should these performances be 
 destroyed, even if they are not excellent ?" 
 
 " Because a poem should either be excellent, or should 
 not exist," replied the other ; " because every man who is 
 incompetent to produce the best, should wholly abstain 
 from art, and carefully avoid all its temptations. There 
 exists in every man a certain unaccountable desire to 
 imitate the objects which he sees, but this desire is far from 
 proving that he possesses the capacity for succeeding in 
 what he may undertake. Observe the conduct of boys, 
 for example, after a company of rope dancers has visited a 
 town, how they amuse themselves in walking backwards and 
 forward, and balancing on every plank and beam that comes 
 in their way, until some new attraction arises and leads 
 them to another folly* Have your never observed this even 
 within the circle of your own acquaintance ? When we have 
 been delighted with the performance of an amateur, do we 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 69 
 
 not find many persons anxious to learn the instrument 
 upon which he has excelled ? What countless mistakes are 
 thus committed ! Happy the man who early learns the 
 immeasurable distance between his wishes and his powers !" 
 
 Werner was of a different opinion : the contest now grew 
 warm, and Wilhelm could not but experience a strange sen- 
 sation in employing against his friend the very same argu- 
 ments with which he had so often vexed himself. Werner 
 maintained that it was unreasonable wholly to abandon a 
 pursuit for which a man possessed some taste and talent, on 
 the ground that he could not attain to full perfection 
 therein. There were many idle hours, he observed, which 
 could be thus profitably employed, and by and by a result 
 might be obtained not wholly profitless to one's self and 
 others. 
 
 Wilhelm, who entertained a different opinion, interrupted 
 Werner, and observed with much warmth : 
 
 " How completely you mistake in supposing that any work 
 whose first presentation is intended to fill the whole soul, can 
 be executed in broken hours, or in fragments of time snatched 
 from other pursuits. No, the poet must live wholly within 
 himself, wholly absorbed in his own beloved employment. 
 He, whose mind is enriched by heaven with precious trea- 
 sures, who carries in his bosom a wealth perpetually in- 
 creasing, must abide with his riches, insensible to every 
 outward influence, and pass his existence in the joy of that 
 calm blessedness which the affluent cannot purchase with all 
 their accumulated stores. Behold mankind ! How eager 
 are they in the chase after happiness and pleasure ! Their 
 wishes, their content, their gold are all sacrified in the 
 pursuit. And what is their aim ? The attainment of an 
 end, which the poet has inherited from nature, the enjoyment 
 of the world, a sympathy with others, an harmonious con- 
 junction of many things which are seldom found in unison. 
 
 " And whence arises the universal discontent of mankind 
 but from their inability to make the -actual correspond with 
 their ideal, from learning that happiness still evades their 
 u r r:i-p, from finding that the wished-for comes too late, and 
 that objects fondly desired, fail, when attained, to gladden 
 the heart as distant hope had promised. Eate has exalted 
 the poet above all these ills, as if he were a god. Calmly 
 
^0 WILHELM MBISTEU'S 
 
 from his eminence he surveys the raging tumult of the 
 passions, contemplates the fate of families and kingdoms 
 which are tossed in fruitless agitation, marks those inex- 
 plicable enigmas of misunderstanding, which a monosyllable 
 would explain, and yet are allowed to occasion unspeakable 
 distress and confusion. In the sad and joyous destiny of every 
 human being he feels an earnest sympathy, and whilst the man 
 of the world is wasting his days in listless melancholy for 
 some great bereavement, or is advancing in glad triumph to 
 meet his happy fate, the susceptible and inspired soul of the 
 poet goes forth like the all-transforming sun from darkness 
 into light, whilst with soft melody he tunes his harp to 
 alternate strains of joy or woe. From the inmost depths of 
 his heart springs up the beauteous flower of wisdom, and 
 whilst other mortals are sunk in mid-day dreams, which 
 torture* the senses with monster delusions, he lives through 
 the dream of life like one awake, and the most overwhelming 
 event becomes to him a portion of the past and of the future. 
 And thus the poet is at once a teacher, a prophet, and the 
 friend of gods and men. Would you have him descend from 
 his elevation to follow some degrading pursuit ? He who 
 borne aloft upon the pinions of a bird is privileged to soar 
 above the world, to nestle on the loftiest summits, and 
 lightly Hitting from bough to bough, to feed on fruits and 
 flowers, must he labour like an ox at the plough, submit to 
 be harnassed like a dog, perchance secured with a chain to 
 protect a farmyard by his barking ?" 
 
 Werner, as may be conceived, had listened with astonish- 
 ment. "This were all just," he observed, "if men were 
 only formed like birds, and could pass their cheerful day in 
 continual enjoyment, without the necessity of labour, and 
 if at the approach of winter they could betake themselves 
 to distant regions, escape the evils of want, and avoid the 
 severity of the season." 
 
 " Poets have lived so in times of old," exclaimed Wilhelm, 
 <; when true nobility was more highly honoured, and so 
 should they ever continue to live. Plentifully provided for 
 from within, they needed but little from without the faculty 
 of imparting high thoughts and glorious images to mankind 
 in sweet tones and melodious numbers which entwined them- 
 selves inseparably with every theme, enchanted the world in 
 
APPKENTICESHIP. 71 
 
 days of old, and served the poet for a rich inheritaiice. In 
 the palaces of kings, at the Banquets of the rich, before 
 the threshold of the lover, the bard was ever welcome when 
 ear and soul were closed to all beside, and men heard their 
 songs in silent rapture as we stand enchanted with delight at 
 the delicious strain of the nightingale, which resounds with 
 overpowering sweetness from the traversed glen. Every 
 dwelling offered them a home, and they felt exalt* d by the 
 very humbleness of their lot. The hero thrilled at their 
 lay, and the victor of the world paid homage to the poet, for 
 he felt that without the poet's aid, his own vast existence 
 would pass by like the whirlwind, and leave no trace behind. 
 The lover sighed to feel his own anxieties and jo;, 
 
 d and harmonious, as they were painted by the inspired 
 lips of the bard, and even the rich failed to see in their 
 dearest tr that value which they borrowed from the 
 
 glowing splendour of the poet's imagination which felt and 
 ennobled all their worth. Who but poets, in fine, created 
 gods, exalted us to them, and brought them down to us?" 
 
 "My friend," replied Werner, after a little reflection, "I 
 have often lamented that you should seek to divest yourself 
 so completely of those feelings of enthusiasm which are 
 natural to you. If I am not much mistaken, it would be better 
 for you to indulge your inclinations than to harass yourself 
 by wholly renouncing the enjoyment of them, and to allow 
 yourself one innocent gratification even at the expense of 
 every other pleasure. 1 ' 
 
 " Dare I acknowledge it," answered the other, " and will 
 you not think me ridiculous if I confess that let me fly 
 whither I may, these fantasies ever pursue me, and that 
 when I examine my heart, I find all my youthful aspirations 
 rooted there/'Bven more firmly than before ? What remains 
 then for me, unfortunate ? Who could have foretold that the 
 arms of my spirit with which I had hoped to seize something 
 great, and perhaps to grasp infinity, would so soon be shat- 
 tered ? whoever should have foretold such a result would have 
 driven me to despair. And even when judgment has been 
 passed upon me when I have for ever lost her, who like ;i 
 divinity was to have conducted me to the attainment of every 
 wish, what remains for me but to abandon myself to the most 
 desolating sorrow ? O, my brother," he continued, "I will 
 
72 WILHELM HEIST ER'S 
 
 not conceal it from you, in my secret designs, she was the 
 support to which the ladder of my hopes was fixed. Behold ! 
 with daring intent the adventurer hovers in the air, but the 
 support fails, the iron breaks, and he himself lies shattered 
 with his wishes in the dust. I will not," he exclaimed as 
 he sprang from his seat, " leave one of the wretched papers 
 in existence." He then seized another package, tore it to 
 pieces, and flung it into the flames. Werner sought to 
 prevent him, but in vain. " Leave me !" he cried, " of what 
 use can they be these miserable papers ? To me they are 
 destitute of comfort and of happy remembrances. Shall they 
 remain to afflict me to the end of my existence ? Shall they 
 survive to provoke one day the derision of mankind, in place of 
 exciting their sympathy and awe ? Alas for me and for my 
 destiny ! Now at length I can understand the complaints of 
 poets of the wretched whom grief has rendered wise. How 
 long have I considered myself irresistible, invulnerable, and 
 now, alas ! I see to my cost that a deep and early sorrow ran 
 never be assuaged, can never be healed. I feel that it must 
 go with me to the grave. Upon no day of my life shall this 
 sorrow be unfelt, till at length it bring me to my end and 
 her image shall remain with me shall live and die with me 
 the memory of the worthless one and yet, my friend, if I 
 dare utter the sentiments of my heart she was not wholly 
 worthless. Her situation and her fate have a thousand 
 times excused her in my eyes. I have been too harsh. You 
 have schooled me in your own heartlessness. You have 
 restrained my wavering intentions, and prevented me from 
 performing what was due to us both. Who knows to what 
 condition I may have reduced her ? and my conscience now 
 perpetually upbraids me, with having abandoned her to 
 titution and despair. Might she not have justified herself? 
 Is it not possible? How many mistakes have" deluded the 
 world, how many extenuating circumstances may excuse even 
 the greatest fault ? How often does my fancy picture her, 
 sitting in silence, leaning on her arm, and exclaiming * This 
 is fidelity this is the love he swore to me ! With such a 
 cruel stroke, to end the sweet existence which made us one !' " 
 He burst into a flood of grief, leaned his face against the 
 table, and saturated the papers which remained with bitter 
 tears. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 73 
 
 AVerner stood by in the greatest perplexity. He had not 
 expected this sudden out-burst of grief. He tried several 
 times to engage his friend in conversation, to direct his 
 thoughts to other topics, but in vain. He .could not resist 
 invnt. And here did well-tried friendship once more 
 ivsinne her office. He permitted the first violent shock of 
 Lrrirf to pasa away, whilst he by his silent presence afforded 
 proof of his own pure and honest sympathy, and so they 
 passed the evening together. Wilhelm absorbed in the 
 silent remembrance of by-gone sorrow, and Werner aston- 
 ished at this new out-burst of a passion which he believed 
 that his own good advice and zealous expostulations had 
 long since mastered and subdued. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AFTER relapses of this nature Wilhelm was accustomed to 
 
 pursue his business, and to resume his life of activity with 
 
 greater zeal, and he found this habit the best means of 
 
 ing the labyrinth which threatened to entangle him. 
 
 His gracious manner of receiving strangers, and his facility 
 
 for corresponding in all living languages, increased the hopes 
 
 of his lather, and of his friends for his commercial success, 
 
 and consoled them during his sickness, as they were wholly 
 
 unacquainted with the cause of his illness, by which their 
 
 ets had been interrupted. They soon determined that 
 
 \ViJhelm should undertake a second journey, and accordingly 
 
 we now find him once more on horseback, with his saddle 
 
 ie hind him, exhilarated by the motion and fresh air, 
 
 and approaching a mountainous district where he had some 
 
 commissions to execute. 
 
 \Vith a sensation of the greatest delight he pursued his 
 way over hill and dale. Impending rocks and rushing 
 
 ins, moss-covered ruins and deep precipices now m< 
 eye for the first time, and yet his earliest youthful dreams 
 had nt'ien carried him to scenes like these, lie felt the < 
 of his former years return, every sorrow which he had 
 
74 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 endured vanished from his soul, and with real delight he 
 recited aloud passages from different poems, particularly from 
 the " Pastor Fido," which, in these solitary places crowded 
 upon his memory. He also called to mind many passages 
 of his own composition, which he repeated with especial 
 satisfaction. He peopled the world which lay before him 
 with all the forms of the past, and every advance into the 
 future seemed to him full of promise, both of important 
 transactions, and of remarkable events. 
 
 A crowd of people who followed greeted him successively 
 as they passed, and hastily pursued their journey alon^ a 
 steep footpath which led across the mountain. Though they 
 interrupted his silent musings, they did not attract his atten- 
 tion very forcibly, until at length a talkative companion joined 
 him, and related the cause of this unusual cavalcade. 
 
 " In Hochdorf," he observed, "there is a comedy to be 
 performed this evening, at which the whole neighbourhood 
 will be present." 
 
 " How," exclaimed "Wilhelm, " has the muse of comedy 
 found a way to build herself a temple in these solitary 
 mountains, in these impassable woods ? Then I must also 
 make a pilgrimage to her festival." 
 
 "You will be still more surprised," added the stranger, 
 "when you learn by whom the piece will be performed. 
 There is a large manufactory in the place which affords 
 employment to many people. The proprietor who lives, so 
 to speak, at a distance from all human society, knows no 
 better way of amusing his workmen in winter, than by 
 inducing them to act plays. He forbids all gambling 
 amongst them, and wishes to wean them from coarse habits. 
 They therefore pass the long evenings in this manner, and 
 as this is the birth-day of the proprietor, they, are about to 
 give a special entertainment in his honour." Wilhelm pro- 
 ceeded to Hochdorf, where he had intended to pass the night, 
 and dismounted at the factory, the proprietor of which by 
 the way appeared as a debtor upon his list. 
 
 Upon mentioning his name, the old man exclaimed with 
 astonishment, " Ha ! sir, are you the son of that worthy 
 man to whom I owe so many thanks, and am even indebted 
 in a sum of money ? Tour father has had great patience 
 with me, and I should indeed be a knave were I not to 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 75 
 
 discharge my debt quickly and cheerfully. You come at a 
 proper time to test my sincerity." 
 
 He called his wife, who was in like manner delighted 
 to see the youth. She assured him that he resembled his 
 father, and regretted that the arrival of so many strangers 
 would prevent her from offering him a bed. 
 
 The account was simple, and soon settled. "Wilhelm put 
 the gold into his pocket, and wished that the rest of his 
 busiiu >s miu r ht be as easily transacted. 
 
 The hour fixed for the performance now arrived. They only 
 waited the appearance of the Head Forester, who at length 
 came, accompanied by several sportsmen, and was received 
 with the greatest respect. 
 
 The company was conducted to the theatre which had 
 been constructed in a barn situated near the garden. 
 The body of the theatre as well as the stage bad been 
 il\ and neatly arranged, but without any great display 
 -te. A painter who worked at the manufactory had 
 formerly been assistant at the Prince's theatre, and had in a 
 somewhat bold, though rude style produced a representation 
 of woods, streets, and apartments. They had borrowed the 
 plot of the piece from a strolling company, and had arranged 
 it after a style of their own. As far as it went it was amusing. 
 The intrigue of two lovers to carry off a girl from her 
 guardian, and afterwards from each other afforded room for 
 several interesting situations. It was the first piece which 
 Wilhelm had for a long time witnessed, and it caused him to 
 indulge in many reflections. It was full of action, but with- 
 out any touch of true character. But it gave pleasure and 
 delight. Such are the beginnings of all theatrical art. The 
 mere man is content if ho only sees something represented, 
 the educated man requires to feel, but the refined spectator 
 derives the greatest pleasure from reflection. 
 
 Wilhelm felt now and then as if he would willingly have 
 assisted the actors, and indeed a trifling suggestion or two 
 would have produced a great improvement. 
 
 But the tobacco smoke, which gradually became more and 
 
 more dense, disturbed his silent cogitations. The Head 
 
 4er had lighted his pipe soon after the commencement 
 
 of the piece, and some others of the audience soon took 
 
 a similar liberty. The large dogs of the above mentioned 
 
76 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 gentleman, moreover, played a disagreeable part. They had 
 been locked-up at the commencement of the performance, 
 but they soon found their way to the back entrance, ran 
 upon the stage, jumped amongst the actors, and finally by a 
 leap over the orchestra succeeded in joining their master who 
 had taken his place in the front row of the parterre. 
 
 The afterpiece consisted of an operatic performance. A 
 portrait which represented the old proprietor in his bridal 
 costume stood upon an altar decorated with flowers. All the 
 actors in turn saluted him witli respectful reverence as they 
 passed. The youngest child then stepped forward, attired 
 in white, and recited a poetical composition, at which the 
 whole family, and even the Head Forester, who thought of 
 his own children, melted into tears. The play being now 
 ended, AVilhclm could not resist venturing upon the stage, 
 in order to take a nearer view of the actresses, to praise their 
 performances, and to offer then a little advice for the future. 
 
 The remainder of our friend's business which he had to 
 transact in the other larger and smaller mountain villages 
 was not so happily and agreeably executed. Many debtors 
 requested further credit, some were rude, and others denied 
 "Wilhelm's claim. According to his instructions he was 
 obliged to sue some of them, and he was therefore com- 
 pelled to seek out an advocate, to furnish him with in- 
 structions, to appear in a court of justice, and to discharge 
 several other similar unpleasant duties. 
 
 He was equally unfortunate in other particulars. Some 
 persons seemed disposed to pay him a little attention, but he 
 found few who were capable of giving him any useful in- 
 formation, and still fewer with whom he could hope to carry 
 on a profitable business. In addition to this, unfortunately 
 the rainy weather now set in, and a journey on horseback 
 in those districts was for this reason attended with insu- 
 perable difficulties. He thanked heaven, therefore, when he 
 once more came to the level country, and found himself at . 
 the foot of the mountains, in a beautiful and productive 
 plain, where a sweet little country town lay in the sunshine 
 on the banks of a softly murmuring river. Here without 
 any business to execute, he resolved to pass a couple of days 
 in order to refresh both himself and his horse, which had 
 suffered considerably from the badness of the roads. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 77 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 Upon" entering an hotel in the market place, he found the 
 whole establishment very merry, or at least very cheerful. 
 A large company of ro; .niters and tumblers, ac- 
 
 companied by a giant, had just arrived with their wives and 
 children, and their preparations for a public exhibition had 
 created a general confusion. At one moment they were 
 quarrelling with their host, and at the next with each other, 
 and it' their contention was intolerable, t .-ssions of 
 
 satisfaction were far more so. Und i whether he 
 
 should go or remain, \Vilhehn stood be tore the door, and 
 observed some workmen, who were busily engaged in the 
 task of erecting a stage in the public square. 
 
 A girl who was carrying a quantity of roses and other 
 flowers offered him her ,\ hereupon he purchased a 
 
 beautiful nosegay which he surveyed with pleasure, and 
 then commenced to arrange after his own fashion. Sud- 
 denly he heard a window open in an hotel on the opposite 
 side of the square, at which a handsome young lady pre- 
 sented herself. Notwithstanding the distance between them 
 he could perceive that a pleasant expression of cheerfulness 
 animated her countenance. Her fine hair fell carelessly over 
 her shoulders, and she seemed to be engaged in surveying 
 him attentively. Presently a boy dressed in a white jacket, 
 and wearing a hair-dresser's apron, issued from the door of 
 the house, and when he came up to "Wilhelm saluted him, 
 and informed him, " the lady at the window wishes to ask 
 whether he would share his beautiful bouquet with her." 
 " The whole of it is at her service," replied "Wilhelm, handing 
 the flowers at the same time to the little messenger, and 
 bowing to the lady, who returned the civility with a gracious 
 salute, and immediately retired from the window. 
 
 "With thoughts bent upon this strange adventure, he was 
 ascending the stairs to his room, when a young creature 
 brushed hastily past him, and attracted his attention. The 
 child was prettily attired in a short silk waistcoat with slashed 
 
78 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 Spanish sleeves, and long tight trowsers ornamented with 
 puffs. His long black hair was arranged in curls, and secured 
 with bands about his head. Wilhelm beheld the figure with 
 astonishment, and was unable to say whether it were a boy or 
 a girl. Deciding finally upon the latter, he took her up in 
 his arms as she passed close to him, bade her good day, and 
 inquired to whom she belonged, although he knew that she 
 must be a member of the singing and dancing company. 
 
 She surveyed him with a sharp dark side- glance, and 
 making her escape she. rushed into the kitchen, without 
 making any reply to his inquiry. 
 
 Upon reaching the top of the stairs he found the large 
 apartment occupied by two men who were practising fencing, 
 or endeavouring rather to prove their skill upon each other. 
 One of them evidently belonged to the company then in the 
 house, but the other had a less common appearance. Wil- 
 helm looked on, and found reason to admire them both, and 
 when shortly afterwards the dark-haired muscular combat- 
 ant retired, the other with much politeness offered Wilhelm 
 a foil. 
 
 " If you wish to receive a pupil for instruction, I am 
 willing," observed the latter, " to venture a few passes." 
 They thereupon fenced together. The stranger was far 
 superior to his antagonist, but he was polite enough to keep 
 observing, that " every thing depended upon practice." Wil- 
 helm however afforded substantial proof that he had been 
 formerly instructed by a good and practical Grerman fencing- 
 master. 
 
 Their amusement was interrupted by the uproar which 
 the motley company made as they issued from the hotel, to 
 notify to the town the nature of their intended performance, 
 and to excite their curiosity with regard to the spectacle 
 itself. A drummer took the lead, he was followed by the 
 manager on horseback, behind him rode one of the dancing 
 girls on a similar steed, holding a child before her, who was 
 attractively arrayed in ribbons and spangles. Next came 
 the rest of the company on foot, some bearing children upon 
 their shoulders in fantastic postures, yet gracefully and easily 
 balanced, and amongst them was the young, black-haired 
 dark complexioned figure which had previously attracted 
 Wilhelm' s attention. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 79 
 
 The clown now ran merrily about among the crowding mul- 
 titude, and distributed his hand-bills with very intelligible 
 jokes, at one time kissing a maiden, then playfully striking 
 one of the boys, and awakening in the minds of the by- 
 standers an unconquerable wish to see him nearer. 
 
 Upon the printed play -bills the multifarious accomplish- 
 ments of the company were conspicuously emblazoned, but 
 particularly those of one Monsieur Narcisse and Made- 
 moiselle Landrinette, both of whom being principal charac- 
 ters had the prudence not to appear in the procession, in 
 order thus to win more respect, and to excite a greater 
 ee of curiosity. 
 
 Wilhclin's fair companion had appeared again at the 
 window during the procession, and he had not neglected to 
 inquiries about her from his new companion. This 
 latter personage, whom for the present we shall call Laertes, 
 offered to introduce Wilhelm to her. " I and the young 
 lady/' he remarked with a smile, " are two wrecks of a 
 company of players, that broke up here a short time ago. 
 The charm of the spot has tempted us to pass some 
 in it, that we may spend in peace our small store of money, 
 whilst another of our party has set forth to find employment 
 for himself and us." 
 
 Laertes therefore accompanied his new acquaintance to 
 the door of Philina's apartment, where he allowed Wilhelm 
 to remain for a few moments whilst he himself ran to a 
 neighbouring shop to procure some sweetmeats. " I know 
 you will thank me," he observed on his return, "for pro- 
 curing you this pleasant acquaintance." 
 
 The lady now advanced from her apartment to receive 
 them, wearing a pair of light small slippers with high heels. 
 She had thrown a black mantilla over a white " ivi^li^ee," 
 and though the latter was not of the most dazzling whiteness, 
 it gave her a more easy and familiar air, whilst her short 
 petticoats displayed the prettiest little foot in the world. 
 
 " You are welcome," she exclaimed, addressing Wilhelm. 
 "and I beg you will accept my thanks for your beautiful 
 flowers." With one hand she conducted him into her 
 apartment, whilst with the other she pressed the bouquet to 
 her bosom. When they were seated and engaged in a train 
 of indifferent conversation, to which she knew how to impart 
 
80 WILHELM HEISTEB'S 
 
 an attractive charm, Laertes flung a handful of burnt almonds 
 into her lap, which she immediately began to eat. lt Sir, 
 what a child this young man is," she cried, " he would wish 
 to persuade you that I am fond of sweetmeats, while it is he 
 himself who cannot live without such things." 
 
 " Let us admit," replied Laertes, " that in this point, as 
 well as in many others, we perfectly agree. For instance," 
 he continued, " this is a delightful day, I think we might 
 take an excursion into the country, and dine together at the 
 mill." " Willingly," replied Philina ; " we must provide a 
 little entertainment for our new acquaintance." Laertes 
 rushed from the apartment, for he never walked quietly, and 
 Wilhelm expressed a desire to return home for a short time, 
 in order to arrange his hair, which had been disordered by 
 the journey. " You can do that here," observed Philina, 
 and calling her attendant, she induced Wilhelm in the most 
 persuasive manner to lay aside his coat, to put on her dress- 
 ing gown, and to permit his hair to be curled in her presence. 
 " We must not lose time," she said ; " who knows how long 
 we shall be together." 
 
 The servant, more sulky and unwilling than unskilful, 
 paid but little attention to his task ; he hurt Wilhelm and 
 committed many blunders. Philina rebuked him several 
 times for his conduct, and at length pushing him away im- 
 patiently, she turned him out of doors. She now undertook 
 to perform the duty herself, and commenced curling the hair 
 of our friend with great skill and dexterity, though she did 
 not seem to be in any great hurry to bring her task to a 
 conclusion, finding more than once that several matters re- 
 quired to be re-arranged. Now and then as it were by mis- 
 take she touched his knee with hers, and brought her nosegay 
 and her bosom so near to his lips that he was strongly 
 tempted more than once to imprint a kiss upon them. 
 
 When Wilhelm had arranged his forehead with the little 
 powder knife, she desired him to put it in his pocket as a 
 token of remembrance. It was a pretty trifle. The handle 
 formed of inlaid steel was engraved with these words, " Think 
 of me." Wilhelm put it away, thanked her, and requested 
 permission to offer her a little present in return. 
 
 Everything was now ready. Laertes had driven round in 
 the carriage, and they set out upon a very delightful excursion. 
 
APPEENTICESIIIP. 81 
 
 Philina distributed alms to every beggar who asked her, and 
 always accompanied her gift with some friendly and cheerful 
 observation. 
 
 They had scarcely arrived at the mill and ordered dinner, 
 when they heard a strain of music. It proceeded from a 
 band of miners who were singing some sweet ballads, and 
 accompanying their happy, shrill voices with a triangle and a 
 harp. This did not continue long before a crowd of people 
 collected round them, and the company at the windows 
 pressed their approbation of the performance. The pi:. 
 
 - attention by enlarging their circle, and 
 preparing to play their best piece. After a short pause a 
 miner appeared carrying a spade, and whilst his companions 
 performed a solemn air, he began to represent in panto in ime 
 the action of diggiug. 
 
 Before long another peasant stepped out from the croud, 
 and by his gestures gave the former to understand that he 
 retire. The company were surprised at this interfere 
 did not understand that this peasant was a miner in 
 disguise, until he opened his mouth and in a species of reci- 
 scolded the other for daring to meddle with his field. 
 The miner, ho as not alarmed, but set about inform- 
 
 ing the pea-ant that he had a right to d\^ there, ami gave 
 him some elementary ideas of mim The pe.-i 
 
 who did not understand the technical language of his in- 
 structor, asked all manner of ridiculous questions, at which 
 the spectators who were better informed laughed heartily. 
 The miner sought still to instruct the inquirer, and to explain 
 the advantage which would eventually arise to him by ex- 
 ploring the subterraneous treasures of the earth. The 
 peasant who at first had threatened him with blows became 
 gradually tranquillized, and they parted good friends, but 
 the miner came out of the contest with the greater 
 honour. 
 
 AVilhelm remarked, when they were all seated at table, 
 k \Ve have iii this little dialogue the most convincing proof 
 how useful the theatre might be made to all classes, how 
 an advantage the state might derive from it if the 
 actions, pursuits and employments of mankind were repre- 
 sented in a good and praiseworthy point of view, shewing 
 that they are worthy of honour and protection from the state. 
 
82 WILHELM METSTEB'S 
 
 At present we only portray mankind in a ridiculous aspect 
 the comic poet resembles a malicious taxgatherer, who con- 
 tinually keeps a watchful eye upon the faults of his fellow 
 citizens, and seems delighted when he can convict them. 
 Would it not be a pleasing and worthy employment for a 
 statesman to mark the natural and reciprocal influence of all 
 classes of society upon each other, and to assist a poet who 
 should possess talent enough for the performance of his task. 
 I am convinced that in this manner many interesting and at 
 the same time useful and entertaining pieces might be pro- 
 duced." 
 
 " So far as I have been able to observe," said Laertes, " in 
 places where I have travelled, the general rule seems to be 
 to hinder, to forbid, and to pervert, but seldom to invite, to 
 induce and to reward. Every thing is allowed to proceed in 
 the world until it becomes injurious, then for the first time 
 angry and coercive measures are introduced." 
 
 " Let us cease to speak of the state and statesmen," said 
 Philina ; " I can only think of the latter dressed in peruques ; 
 and peruques, whoever wears them, always affect my fingers 
 with a spasmodic feeling. I could tear them from the heads 
 of the venerable gentlemen, dance round the room, and laugh 
 at the bald pates." 
 
 Philina cut short her remarks with a merry air which she 
 sang prettily, and gave directions that they should drive 
 speedily homeward in order not to miss the performances of 
 the rope dancers in the evening. Whimsical even to ex- 
 travagance, she continued her generosity to the poor on her 
 way back, and when she had at length expended her own 
 money and that of her travelling companions, she bestowed 
 her straw hat upon a young girl, and gave away her neck- 
 kerchief to an old woman in charity. 
 
 Philina invited both her companions into her apartment, 
 because she said they could see the entertainment better 
 from her windows than from the hotel. 
 
 Upon their arrival they found the stage erected, and the 
 background ornamented with suspended tapestry. The 
 swings were already prepared, the slack rope was fastened 
 to the posts, and the tight rope was drawn over the trestles. 
 The square was well filled with people, and the windows with 
 spectators of the better class. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. S3 
 
 Tlie clown in the first place prepared the people for atten- 
 tion and good humour by the display of some drollery, at 
 which the spectators are accustomed to laugh. Some chil- 
 dren whose bodies were distorted into various shapes, excited 
 pity and surprise, and AVilhelm could not restrain his feel- 
 ings of deep commiseration, on beholding the child whose 
 first appearance had awakened his interest, go through her 
 astonishing performance with some dilliculty. But the 
 activity of the tumblers soon delighted the spectators, when 
 singly and then in rows, and subsequently all together, 
 they pitched their sommersaults backwards and forwards in 
 the air. A loud clapping of hands and general applause re- 
 sounded through the whole assembly. 
 
 But their attention was soon directed to another ol> 
 The children in succession ascended the rope, beginning 
 with the pupils, that their practising might lengthen the 
 performance and display the difficulties of the art. Some 
 men and some young women also next shewed considerable 
 skill, but Monsieur Narcisse and Mademoiselle Lamlri- 
 nette had not yet made their appearance. At length they 
 came forth from a kind of tent formed of red expanded cur- 
 lains, and by their agreeable figures and glittering dress, 
 they quickly raised and satisfied the hopes of the spectators. 
 He was a smiling youth of middle size, with black eyes and 
 curly hair ; she was a person of not less attractive form, 
 whilst as they appeared in turn upon the rope, and displ 
 their easy active motions, they surprised the spectators with 
 their strange but graceful attitudes. Her activity and his 
 fearlessness, together with the precision which both exhibited 
 in executing their performances, increased the general de- 
 light at each successive leap and spring which they made. 
 Their assumed dignity, and the apparent respect paid to 
 them by the rest of the company, gave them the air of king 
 and queen of the performance, and in the eyes of all they 
 seemed fully worthy of the honour. 
 
 The enthusiasm of the crowd soon reached the spectators 
 who were assembled at the windows. The ladies looked 
 intently at Narcisse, whilst the gentlemen admired Lamlri- 
 nette. The lower orders cheered loudly, and even the more 
 polite spectators could not refrain from clapping their ham Is, 
 but no one condescended to bestow even a passing smile 
 
84 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 upon the clown. It was observed that many of the by- 
 standers slunk stealthily away when some of the actors 
 pressed through the crowd with their tin plates to gather 
 contributions. 
 
 "They seem to have succeeded," observed Wilhelm to 
 Philina, who was leaning beside him at the window ; U I 
 admire the judgment with which they have managed their 
 humble performances, and the skill with which, from the in- 
 experience of the children, and the talents of the other 
 actors, they have produced a whole which has not only fixed 
 our attention, but afforded us most agreeable entertain- 
 ment." 
 
 The crowd had now gradually dispersed, and the square 
 had become once more empty, while Philina and Laertes 
 continued to criticise the forms and skill of Narcisse and 
 Landrinette, and to jest and contradict each other alternately. 
 Wilhelm in the mean time having observed the clever little 
 child standing near some children who were playing in the 
 street, pointed her out to Philina, who instantly called 
 and beckoned to her in her usual lively manner, but without 
 effect, whereupon she ran down stairs humming a song, and 
 brought her up. 
 
 " Here is your little wonder," she exclaimed, as she led 
 the little thing into the room. But the child stood still, as 
 if she wished to make her escape, then placing her right 
 hand upon her breast, and her left upon her forehead, 
 she bowed deeply. " Do not fear, my little love," said 
 Wilhelm advancing towards her. She surveyed him with 
 an uncertain look, and then approached a few steps nearer. 
 
 "What is your name ?" he asked. " They call me Mig- 
 non," was the reply. "How old are you?" " No one has 
 ever counted my years." " Who was your father ?" " The 
 great devil is dead." 
 
 " That is passing strange !" exclaimed Philina. He made 
 some further inquiries. The child answered in a sort of 
 broken G-erman, and with a solemn tone, always placing her 
 hand upon her breast and forehead and at the same time 
 bowing deeply. 
 
 Wilhelm could not withdraw his eyes from her. His eyes 
 and his heart were irresistibly attracted by the mysterious 
 fate of this being. She seemed to be about twelve or 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 85 
 
 thirteen years of age, her figure was good, though her limbs 
 promised to be large, or perhaps foretold a somewhat stunted 
 growth. Her face was not regular, but impivssive, her 
 brow was mysterious, her nose extremely beautiful, and 
 the shape of her mouth, indicated much good nature and 
 was very charming, though perhaps too closely compressed 
 for her age, and moreover, the child was accustomed to 
 distort her lips, in a disagreeable manner. It was difficult 
 to discern the hue of her complexion through the rouge 
 upon her cheeks. Her whole appearance made a deep 
 impression upon Wilhelm. He fixed his eyes intently upon 
 her, became silently absorbed in contemplation, and seemed 
 to forget the present in the intensity of his thoughts 
 Philina, however, soon roused him from his dream by ollering 
 the remainder of the sweetmeats to the child and signifying 
 she might go. The little thing bowed again as she had 
 done at the commencement and darted like lightning from 
 >om. 
 
 The moment now approached when our new friends were 
 to separate for the evening, and they accordingly proposed 
 another excursion for the following day. It was resolved, 
 however, to vary the scene of entertainment and to dine at a 
 limiting lodge in the neighbourhood. Wilhelm during the 
 evening expressed many observations in Philina's praise, to 
 which Laertes replied in a short and careless manner. 
 
 On the following morning having again fenced for an hour, 
 they visited Philina's hotel together, as they had previouslv 
 observed the carriage which had been engaged for the day's 
 excursion taking its way in that direction. But what was 
 \\'il helm's astonishment upon his arrival, to find that the 
 carriage and Philina had both disappeared. Upon inquiry, he 
 learned that she had stepped into the vehicle, accompanied 
 by two strangers who had arrived that very morn ing and 
 they had all set out together. Wilhelm, who had promised 
 himself great en joyment in her society, could not conceal his 
 vexation. But Laertes laughed and exclaimed, " I love this 
 humour. It is so like her. But let us go to the hunting 
 lodge she may do as she pleases, but we must not lose our 
 intended excursion, on her account." 
 
 Wilhelm proceeded to remark upon this inconsistency of 
 conduct, but Laertes observed, "I do not call a person 
 
86 "WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 inconsistent who remains true to his character. When she 
 proposes or promises any thing, it is always under the 
 implied condition that it must be convenient to herself to 
 execute her intention or to keep her promise. She is 
 generous, it is true, but one must always be prepared to 
 restore her presents." 
 
 " She seems a strange character," said Wilhelm. 
 
 " Far from strange," he replied, " and she is no hypocrite. 
 I like her for that. I love her because she is so true a 
 specimen of the sex, which I have so much reason to hate. 
 She is a genuine Eve, the original mother of womankind, 
 and so are they all, only they will not all confess it." 
 
 With much conversation of this description, in which 
 Laertes very decidedly expressed his aversion to the sex, 
 without however alleging any reason for the fooling, they 
 arrived upon the confines of the forest. Wilhelm \vas 
 very much out of humour, because the remarks of Laertes 
 had brought vividly to his recollection all the circumstances 
 of his attachment to Mariana. Beneath some lofty old 
 trees, which overshadowed a stone table near a clear fountain 
 they found Philina sitting alone. She was singing a merry 
 song, and when Laertes inquired for her companions, she 
 exclaimed, " O ! I have taken them in finely and have 
 enjoyed a rare laugh at them, as they deserved. On the 
 road hither I put their generosity to the test, and finding 
 tiiat they were a stingy pair, I determined to punish 
 thorn. TJpon our arrival at the hotel, they inquired of the 
 waiter what was to be had for dinner ? He with charac- 
 teristic volubility recounted all that was in the house and 
 much more that was not. I marked their confusion ; they 
 looked at each other, stammered and inquired the price. 
 ' O ! why all this thinking,' I observed, ' the table is 
 the lady's province, leave that to me.' I forthwith ordered 
 an unconscionable dinner, including many things for which 
 it would be necessary to dispatch a messenger to the town. 
 The waiter, of whom by means of a wink or two, I had made 
 a confidant, helped me through, and we so tortured them 
 with the phantom of a splendid feast, that in short they 
 have resglved to take a walk through the forest, from which 
 I think it more than doubtful if they ever return. I have 
 laughed for the last quarter of an hour alone, and I shall 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 87 
 
 never cease to do so when I think of their looks of amaze- 
 ment." During dinner Laertes recounted several anecdotes 
 of a similar kind, and all told merry stories of practical 
 jokes and laughable impositions. 
 
 A youth of their acquaintance from the town now 
 approached them through the wood with a book in his hand. 
 He took his seat near them and began to praise the romantic 
 beauty of the scenery. He spoke of the murmuring brooks, 
 of the waving boughs, of the varied lights and shadows and 
 of the melody of the birds. Philina immediately sang a 
 song about the cuckoo of which the gentleman did not seem 
 quite to approve, and he forthwith took his leave. 
 
 " I never wish to hear another rhapsody about nature and 
 her beauties," cried Philina, as soon as the stranger had 
 disappeared, " nothing is more intolerable than to hear an 
 arithmetical account of the pleasures which we enjoy. We 
 walk when it is fine, as we dance when we hear a tune. 
 But why should we think either of the music or the weather ? 
 It is the dancer that interests us, not the violin, and a pair 
 of light blue eyes will ever give inspiration to a pair of 
 black ones. But what do we want with books and fountains 
 and old decayed linden trees ?" As she spoke she looked at 
 Wilhelm who was sitting opposite to her, with an expression 
 which he could not resist until it pierced to his very heart. 
 
 " You are right," he answered, with some hesitation, " man i 
 is the most interesting subject of inquiry to man, and 
 nothing else perhaps should interest him. Every thing else 
 that surrounds us, is either the element in which we live, 
 or the instrument which we use. In proportion as we 
 consider these things, observe them and become impressed 
 with them, the weaker will be our sense of self importance 
 and our feeling for society. Persons who set an inordinate 
 value upon gardens, houses, apparel, ornaments, or any other 
 treasure, become less companionable and pleasing, they lose 
 sight of mankind, whom it is the fortune of very few to attract 
 and entertain. May we not remark this upon the stage ? 
 A good actor makes us instantly forget defective and inappro- 
 priate scenery, while the very splendour of theatrical decora- 
 tion makes us keenly feel the want of good actors." 
 
 After dinner, Philina, took her seat in the shade, among 
 the long grass. Both her friends were busily employed in 
 
88 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 collecting for her quantities of flowers. She formed them 
 into a wreath and placed it on her head she looked un- 
 speakably lovely. There were sufficient flowers for another 
 wreath, so she wove a second whilst the youths remained 
 seated beside her. As soon as it was finished amid repeated 
 jests and merriment she presssd it upon Wilhelm' s head 
 with the most charming grace, and then altered its position 
 repeatedly until at length it seemed properly adjusted. 
 " And so, I, it appears, must go away empty," observed 
 Laertes. 
 
 " By no means," Philina answered, " you shall have no 
 reason to complain." Saying which she took her own wreath 
 from her head, and crowned Laertes with it. 
 
 " If we were rivals," said the latter, " it might now be a 
 question which of us has been more highly favoured." 
 
 "Then you would be silly indeed," she answered, and 
 bending towards him with these words, she offered him her 
 lips to kiss, and immediately turning towards Wilhelm, she 
 threw her arms about his neck and kissed him tenderly. 
 " Which tastes the best ?" she inquired archly. 
 
 " Wonderful," said Laertes, " it seems as if nothing had 
 ever a taste so bitter." 
 
 " As little bitter," answered Philina, " as any other gift 
 that one enjoys without envy or self conceit. But I should 
 like now to dance for an hour, and then we must return home 
 in time to see the rope dancers once more." 
 
 They returned to the house, when finding music provided, 
 Philina who was an accomplished dancer entertained her 
 two companions. Wilhelm was not unskilful, but he failed 
 in grace, from want of practice. His two friends undertook 
 to give him instruction. 
 
 They lingered long. The rope dancers had already com- 
 menced their performances. A crowd of spectators had 
 already collected in the square, and our friends upon 
 descending from their carriage, were attracted by a disturb- 
 ance from the crowd which had collected round the door 
 of the hotel in which Wilhelm had taken up his quarters. 
 Wilhelm ran across to see what was the matter, and when 
 he had forced his way through the crowd, saw with indig- 
 nation the chief of the rope dancers' company endeavouring 
 to drag the interesting child we have spoken of from the 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 89 
 
 house by the hair of her head, and cruelly beating her with 
 the handle of a whip. 
 
 He rushed like lightning upon the man and seized him 
 by the throat. " Leave the child," he exclaimed with a voice 
 of fury, " or one of us shall never quit this spot." He 
 grasped his antagonist at the same time with a force which 
 rage alone can give. The fellow half choked released the 
 child and prepared to defend himself against his new foe. 
 Some of the by-standers who had pitied the child, without 
 daring to enter into a contest on her account, seized the 
 rope-dancer's arms, deprived him of the whip, and loaded 
 him with abuse. The latter, who was now reduced to the 
 defensive weapon of his tongue, threatened and cursed fear- 
 fiilly : " The idle worthless creature," he exclaimed, "refused 
 to do her duty she refused to perform the egg-dance, which 
 he had promised to the public, he would beat her to death 
 and no person should prevent him." He tried to escape, in 
 order to seek the child who had crept away amongst the 
 crowd. Wilhelm held him back, exclaiming, " You shall 
 neither touch nor see the child till you have confessed from 
 whom you have stolen her. I will follow you to the utmost 
 extremity you shall not escape me." This threat which 
 "Wilhelm uttered in the mere heat of passion, without 
 thought or design, perhaps from inspiration, brought the 
 furious fellow instantly to his senses. He replied, " What 
 do I want with the worthless thing ? pay me what her 
 clothes have cost, and you may keep her willingly we can 
 conclude the bargain this very evening." He then departed 
 to finish his interrupted performances, and to appease the 
 dissatisfaction of the multitude, by some astonishing display 
 of his powers. 
 
 Wilhelm, as soon as all was quiet, endeavoured to find 
 the child, but in vain. Some said she was concealed in a 
 garret, or on the roof of some of the neighbouring houses, 
 but after a diligent search, they were forced to rest content, 
 and wait until she should come back of her own accord. 
 Narcisse had meanwhile returned, and Wilhelm questioned 
 him about the circumstances and previous history of the child. 
 He however knew but little, as he had not been long with 
 the company, but he related his own adventures with much 
 garrulous levity. When Wilhelm extolled the great success 
 
90 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 of bis performances he expressed the utmost indifference 
 upon that subject. " We are accustomed to be laughed at," 
 he observed, " and to hear praises of our feats of skill, but 
 we are never any thing the better for all this mighty appro- 
 bation. The manager has to pay us, let his funds come from 
 where they may." He then bade him farewell and was about 
 to take his leave instantly. 
 
 In reply to the inquiry, "whither he was hastening so 
 speedily ?" the fellow smiled, and confessed that his figure 
 and talents had gained him a more solid recompense than 
 the approbation of the public. He had received an invitation 
 from some young ladies who were very anxious for his 
 acquaintance-, and he feared he would not be able to complete 
 his numerous visits before midnight. He continued to 
 recount his adventures with much candour, and would have 
 mentioned not only the streets and residences, but the very 
 names of the ladies, if Wilhelm had not admonished him of 
 such indiscretion and politely dismissed him. 
 
 Laertes had in the mean time been engaged in enter- 
 taining Landrinette and assuring her that she was quite 
 worthy to be and to ivmuin a woman. 
 
 The bargain between "Wilhelm and the rope-dancer for 
 the child was now concluded. She was sold to the former 
 for thirty thalers, and for that sum the dark complexioned 
 Lot-blooded Italian renounced all his claims to her, but of 
 her previous history he would give no account, except that 
 he had taken care of her since the death of his brother, who 
 on account of his extraordinary talents and dexterity had 
 been named "the great devil." 
 
 A general search was made for the child, on the following 
 morning. But in vain was every corner of the house ana 
 of the neighbourhood explored. She had disappeared, and 
 it was feared on all sides, that she had either drowned herself 
 or that some other misfortune had happened to her. 
 
 The charms of Philina were insufficient to appease the 
 inquietude of our friend. He spent a thoughtful, melan- 
 choly day, and even in the evening though the tumblers 
 and rope-dancers exerted all their powers to enchant the 
 public, they could not enliven his depressed spirits, or 
 dissipate his sadness. 
 
 The crowd of spectators had greatly increased by the 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 91 
 
 numbers that flocked together from the neighbourhood, 
 and like a snowball, the general approbation swelled to an 
 enormous size. The fearlessness with which the actors 
 leaped over extended swords, or through casks the openings 
 of which were covered with paper, excited a wonderful sensa- 
 tion. The giant too awakened a feeling of universal astonish- 
 ment and awe, when with his head and feet resting upon 
 two chairs, which were extended at a wide distance from 
 each other, he allowed a sturdy smith to place an anvil on 
 his chest and to beat a horse-shoe into shape. 
 
 The performance concluded with a feat called, " The 
 Strength of Hercules," which had never been exhibited in 
 these parts. A row of men bore another row upon their 
 shoulders and these latter in their turn supported a row of 
 women and children, until at length a living pyramid was 
 formed, the point being ornamented by a child standing on its 
 brad, and dressed so as to resemble a ball or a weather-cock. 
 Narcisse and Landrinette were then carried in procession- on 
 the shoulders of the others through the principal streets amid 
 the general acclamations of the by-standers, ribbons, flowers 
 and silk handkerchiefs were showered upon them, and all 
 pressed forward to see them clearly. It was thought a 
 happiness to behold them and to be honoured by a -look in 
 return. 
 
 " What author, what actor, nay what man would not think 
 that he had attained the very summit of his ambition, if by 
 means of a noble speech or some illustrious deed he could 
 produce so general an impression ? What a delicious 
 sensation would be ours if we could excite, as if by an electric 
 shock, noble, generous and manly feelings in a people, 
 awaken thousands to happiness, as successfully as these 
 people can give pleasure by a display of their bodily dexterity, 
 if we could impart to the multitude a sympathy for every 
 thing human, if by expounding the laws of happiness and 
 misery, of wisdom and ignorance, of reason and folly, we 
 could move and influence their inmost souls and rouse their 
 stagnant beings into free, pure, unrestrained activity !" 
 Thus spoke our friend, but as neither Philina nor Laertes 
 seemed disposed to engage in such a disquisition, he enter- 
 tained himself alone with these his favourite theories, pacing 
 the streets to a late hour in the night, and seemingly bent 
 
92 -WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 upon devoting all the force and freedom of his emancipated 
 spirit to the realization of his long cherished desire, viz. to 
 embody for the stage all that is good and great and noble 
 in life. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ON the following day when the rope dancers had taken 
 their departure amid great display and parade, Mignon 
 once more made her appearance and entered the apartment 
 where Wilhelm and Laertes were engaged in fencing. 
 " Where have you been concealed ?" inquired the former in 
 a kind tone, " you have occasioned us much anxiety." The 
 child made no answer but fixed her eyes upon him. " You 
 belong to us now," said Laertes, " we have bought you." 
 " How much have you paid for me ?" asked the child with 
 great composure. " One hundred crowns," replied Laertes, 
 " when you repay them, you shall have your freedom." " Is 
 it much ?" inquired the child. " O yes ! but you must 
 now behave yourself well." "I will be your servant," she 
 replied. 
 
 From that instant she paid particular attention to the 
 duties which the waiter had to perform for her two friends, 
 and on the following day she would not allow him to enter 
 the apartment any more. She insisted upon doing every 
 thing herself, and though she was neither quick nor skilful, 
 she was accurate and careful in all that she performed. 
 
 Placing herself frequently before a bason of water, she 
 was accustomed to wash her face with so much violence as 
 to rub the skin from her cheeks. In reply to Laertes' 
 questions, she stated that she was anxious to wash off the 
 rouge, and that in her wish to succeed, she had mistaken 
 the redness which the rubbing had occasioned for the most 
 obstinate dye. She was informed of her error and did it 
 no more, and after a little time she acquired the natural 
 complexion of a beautiful brunette enlivened with a rosy 
 tint. 
 
 Engaged in this society, excited no less by the dangerous 
 charms of Philina than by the mysterious presence of this 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 93 
 
 child, "Wilhelm's mind was for many days more strongly 
 agitated than he himself would venture to confess. He 
 endeavoured, however, to stifle the reproaches of his con- 
 science by engaging actively in the exercises of fencing and 
 dancing, accomplishments for which he might not perhaps 
 easily find so convenient an opportunity. 
 
 He was not a little surprised and gratified when one day 
 Heir Melina and his wife arrived at the hotel. Having 
 exchanged the first cheerful salutations, they inquired about 
 the lady who had undertaken the duties of manager, as well 
 as about the rest of the company. He learnt to his great 
 dismay that the former had long since left .the place and 
 that the company had almost broken up. 
 
 After their marriage, a step to which as we are aware 
 Wilhelm had contributed his assistance, they had visited 
 many places in search of an engagement, but without 
 success, and had at length been directed to this little town, 
 as some persons, whom they had accidentally met, informed 
 them that there was a good theatre in the place. 
 
 Philina was not much taken with Madame Melina, when 
 they came to know each other, nor indeed was the animated 
 Laertes particularly pleased with her husband. They wished 
 to give up the acquaintance of these strangers, and Wilhelm 
 was unable to change their feelings in this point, though he 
 assured them repeatedly that the Melinas were very worthy 
 people. 
 
 To say the truth, the cheerful life of our three friends 
 was affected in more ways than one by this enlargement of 
 their circle. Melina, who had established himself in the 
 same hotel with Philina, commenced a disagreeable system 
 of bargaining for what he wanted. He insisted upon having 
 more luxurious fare, as well as better accommodation and 
 attendance at a cheaper rate. Before long, the landlord and 
 the waiters grew thoroughly dissatisfied, for Wilhelm and 
 his two acquaintances being disposed for happiness, had 
 never expressed discontent with any thing, and had always 
 paid their account for peace sake, but Melina now under- 
 took the arrangement of all the meals and diligently scruti- 
 nized the bill of fare before hand, for which reason Philina, 
 without much considering the consequences, bestowed upon 
 him the name of the ruminating animal. 
 
94 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 But Madame Melina was an object of special dislike to 
 the merry, thoughtless Philina. She was a woman possess- 
 ing a certain amount of education, but was sadly deficient 
 in spirit and in soul. Her talent for declamation was con- 
 siderable, and she was always declaming, but you could 
 easily see that her performance was a mere recitation of 
 words, and though she was effective in some passages, she 
 failed in expressing the full force and passion of the character 
 she represented. But she was notwithstanding a general 
 favourite, particularly with the men. Indeed her intimate 
 friends considered her to possess a fine understanding, and I 
 might say without error that she was a general sympathizer in 
 the emotions of all people. She well knew how to flatter 
 a friend, whose favour she wished to obtain, she could agree 
 in the justice of his views as far as possible, and when 
 they extended beyond the limits of her horizon, she never 
 failed to welcome with extasy, the appearance of such new 
 and brilliant visions. She thoroughly understood the proper 
 times for speaking and for maintaining silence, and though 
 her disposition was wholly free from malice, she could detect 
 with astonishing skill the secret of another* s weakness. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 MELINA had in the mean time sought information about 
 the scattered wrecks of the late theatre. The decorations 
 and the wardrobe had been deposited with several trades- 
 people as security for debts, and a notary had received 
 instructions from the directress to make a speedy sale of 
 them, under certain conditions. Melina was anxious to 
 inspect these stores, and took Wilhelm along with him, 
 for the purpose. Upon opening the room where they were 
 collected a certain indescribable sensation came over Wilhelm 
 which he felt unwilling to acknowledge even to himself. 
 Notwithstanding the tarnished state of the ornaments and 
 wardrobe, and of the Turkish and heathen dresses, of the 
 old farce-coats for the actors and actresses, and of the cowls 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 95 
 
 for monks, Jews and enchanters, he could not help feeling 
 that those were the very happiest moments of his life which 
 he had spent amid similar frippery. If Melina could have 
 known the secret emotions which were working at his heart, 
 he would have pressed him more earnestly to expend a sum 
 of money in purchasing this collection of scattered fragments, 
 in arranging them anew, and of framing them into a beauti- 
 ful whole. " What a happy mortal," exclaimed Melina, 
 " should I esteem myself, if I possessed but two hundred 
 dollars and could obtain these essentials for the commence- 
 ment of a theatrical speculation. I should soon be able to 
 open a little theatre in this very town and neighbourhood, 
 quite sufficient to supply all our wants." "Willielm was 
 silent and both buried in thought, left the treasures to be 
 once more placed under lock and key. 
 
 From this time Melina' s whole conversation consisted of 
 projects and plans for the establishment of a theatre and 
 turning it to a profitable account. He endeavoured to 
 interest Philina and Laertes in his scheme, and proposed 
 that Wilhelm should advance a sum of money for the 
 purpose on security. It now occurred to him for the first 
 time that he had too long delayed his departure from this 
 place, but he found convenient excuses for his procrastina- 
 tion, and determined to make preparations for the con- 
 tinuance of his journey. 
 
 In the mean time Mignon's personal appearance and 
 disposition were becoming more and more attractive to him, 
 although her whole conduct was singular and mysterious. 
 In ascending or descending the stairs, she never walked, 
 but always bounded along. She would spring forward by 
 the banisters, reach the landing place before you could 
 be aware of her intention, and then quietly take her seat. 
 Wilhelm moreover remarked that she adopted a different 
 kind of salute towards every individual. When saluting 
 him of late she always crossed her arms upon her breast. 
 She frequently remained quite silent for an entire day, 
 sometimes however she answered more readily, but in so 
 strange a way as if to leave it doubtful whether her pecu- 
 liarity arose from shrewdness or from ignorance of the lan- 
 guage, as she generally expressed herself in broken German 
 intermingled with French and Italian. In her attentions 
 
96 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 to "Wilhelm she was unwearied, rising at the first dawn of 
 da;; r , but she retired early in the evening, sleeping in a little 
 room upon the bare floor, and she could not be persuaded to 
 use either a bed or a straw mattress. He often found her 
 washing herself. In her attire she was cleanly, and her 
 clothes were quilted in double and treble folds. He was 
 informed that she was accustomed to attend mass every 
 morning at an early hour. More than once he followed her 
 thither and watched her as she retired to a corner of the 
 church, whilst with her rosary in her hand she sank down 
 upon her knees and prayed devoutly. She had never 
 noticed him, and upon his return home he became lost in 
 thought about this strange apparition, but was unable to 
 arrive at any certain conclusion about her. 
 
 A new application from Melina for a sum of money to pur- 
 chase the theatrical wardrobe, which formed the never-ending 
 subject of his conversation, determined Wilhelm once more 
 to think of his departure. He resolved, therefore, to write 
 to his friends by the next post, as they had not heard from 
 him for a long time. In fact he had commenced a letter 
 to Wernor, and had proceeded to narrate his adventures, in 
 the course of which he had somewhat unintentionally wan- 
 dered a little from the truth, when to his mortification he 
 found that one side of his letter was already filled with some 
 verses which he had copied from his album for Madame 
 Melina. In his vexation he tore up the letter, and postponed 
 the repetition of his adventures till the following day. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 OUE party was once more assembled together, when Philina 
 who attentively watched every horse and carriage that passed 
 before the house, exclaimed in a state of great excitement, 
 " Our Pedant ! here comes our darling Pedant ! Who can 
 he have with him ?" She called to him, and nodded from the 
 window, and the carriage immediately drew up. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 97 
 
 A poor, woe-begone looking genius, who from his shabby 
 thread-bare coat and ill-conditioned lower garments, seemed 
 like one of those unthriving tutors who moulder at our 
 Universities, stepped from the carriage, and took off his 
 hat to salute Philina, displaying an ill-powdered stiff periwig, 
 while she in return for the compliment kissed her hand to 
 him a hundred times. 
 
 Her chief happiness seemed to consist in loving one set 
 of men, and in engaging their affection, but she allowed 
 herself at the same time another species of enjoyment, and 
 that lay in ridiculing those whom she might at such moment 
 happen not to love, a pastime in which she particularly excelled. 
 
 In the tumult with which she welcomed this old friend 
 of hers, the other persons who accompanied him were 
 completely forgotten. Yet Wilhelm thought he remem- 
 bered tiu' laces of the two girls, and of the old man who 
 had arrived together with him. It appeared that he had 
 frequently seen them before in the company of actors, 
 who, some years ago, had been accustomed to perform in 
 his native town. The ladies had grown considerably since 
 that period, but the old man had not altered perceptibly. 
 He generally played those good-humoured, noisy old cha- 
 racters, which are always found in a German play, and which 
 one sometimes meets in common life. For it is the character 
 of our fellow countrymen not only to do good themselves, 
 but to promote it in others without any display of ostentation 
 or parade : and they seldom consider the charm of com- 
 bining uprightness with a dignified and graceful manner, and 
 so frequently from a very spirit of contradiction they commit 
 the grievous mistake of deforming the loveliest virtues by 
 their ungracious demeanour. 
 
 Our actor played characters of this nature with great 
 skill, and indeed so successfully and so exclusively did he 
 devote himself to such parts, that in common life his manners 
 resembled his performances. 
 
 Wilhelm was overpowered with emotion upon recognizing 
 this person. He remembered how often he had seen him on 
 the stage in company with his beloved Mariana. He fancied 
 he could still hear him scolding her, that he could still hear 
 her soft soothing voice that tender voice with which in 
 many characters it was necessary for her to remonstrate 
 against his angry temper. 11 
 
98 WILHELM MEISTEB,' 
 
 To the first inquiry made of the stranger, whether they 
 might entertain any hope of effecting a theatrical engagement, 
 a, negative answer was unfortunately returned, accompanied 
 moreover by the information, that all the companies in the 
 neighbouring towns were not only provided with actors, but 
 entertained some apprehensions that the approaching war 
 might compel them to dissolve their several establishments. 
 The old actor, whom we have mentioned, had from a whim 
 and from a love of change abandoned a very advantageous 
 engagement which he had made for himself and his daughters, 
 and meeting with the Pedant on his journey, they had hired 
 a carriage together, and had come on to this place where, as 
 they found, good advice was difficult to procure. 
 
 Whilst the rest of the company were busily engaged in 
 discussing their several projects, Wilhelm sat alone buried 
 in thought. He wished to speak in private with the old man, 
 he was anxious to hear some news of Mariana, and yet he 
 dreaded to make any inquiry, and was seized with the 
 greatest disquietude. 
 
 Even the personal charms-of the young ladies who had lately 
 arrived, could not arouse him from his lethargy, but an angry 
 altercation which took place quickly engaged his attention. 
 ] t was occasioned by Frederick the fair-haired youth, who 
 was accustomed to wait upon Philina, and who now refused 
 in the most positive manner to lay the table and bring up 
 the dinner. " I have been engaged," he said, " to wait upon 
 you, but not to be the servant of all these people." Hence 
 arose a violent dispute. Philina insisted that he should do 
 his duty, and as he obstinately refused to obey, she told him 
 Without ceremony that he might go about his business. 
 
 " You think, perhaps, that I cannot leave you," he said, 
 saucily, and hastening away, he proceeded to pack up his 
 things, and left the house. 
 
 " G-o, Mignon," said Philina, " and get us what we require ; 
 call the waiter, and assist him to attend us." 
 
 Mignon ran to Wilhelm, and inquired in her laconic way 
 whether she might comply ? and he desired her to do what- 
 ever the lady should command her. 
 
 She accordingly took charge of everything, and waited on 
 the guests during the whole evening with the greatest as- 
 siduity. After dinner Wilhelm proposed to take a walk with 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 99 
 
 the old man alone. Having obtained his wish, lie hazarded 
 many inquiries relative to his previous course of life till the 
 conversation turned upon the former company, and Wilhelm 
 ventured at length to ask a question touching Mariana. 
 
 " O, do not mention the wicked creature !" exclaimed the 
 old man, " I have made a vow never to think of her again." 
 Wilhehn was astonished at this speech, and soon found 
 himself in still greater embarrassment when the old man 
 proceeded to accuse her of the most shameless levity and 
 misconduct. Wilhelm would gladly have broken off the 
 conversation, but he was compelled to listen to the noisy 
 effusions of the garrulous old man. 
 
 "I feel quite ashamed," he said, "that I was once so 
 warmly attached to her. But if you had known her better 
 you would have excused me. She was so pretty, so natural, 
 and so good, in every way so amiable. In fact I could never 
 have imagined it possible that impudence and ingratitude 
 could form the chief ingredients of her character." 
 
 Wilhelm had already made up his mind to hear the worst, 
 when suddenly he observed with astonishment, that the tone 
 of the old man became gradually milder, his voice faltered, 
 and at length he took out his handkerchief to dry the tears 
 which interrupted his observations. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" exclaimed Wilhelm. " What are 
 these conflicting emotions which so suddenly affect you ? 
 Conceal nothing from me, I am more deeply interested in 
 the fate of this girl than you perhaps imagine, only tell me 
 everything." 
 
 " 1 have but Jittle to communicate," continued the old 
 man, relapsing once more into his former earnest and com- 
 plaining tone. " I can never forget the sufferings she has 
 occasioned me to endure. She always reposed confidence in 
 me, and I loved her as my own daughter, and as my wife 
 was still alive, I had determined to invite her to my house, 
 and rescue her from the hands of that old fellow, from whose 
 guidance I augured no advantage. But my wile died, and I 
 abandoned my project. 
 
 " About three years ago, towards the conclusion of our 
 residence in your native town, observing the state of deep 
 melancholy into which she had fallen, I inquired into thu 
 cause, but she persisted in evading my questions. At length 
 
100 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 we set out upon our journey. She travelled in the same 
 carriage with me, and I then observed that she was about to 
 become a mother, and she suffered the greatest terror lest the 
 manager should dismiss her from his employment. He dis- 
 covered the circumstance soon after, and immediately can- 
 celled her engagement which had yet six weeks to run, he 
 paid her arrears, and in spite of all remonstrances left her 
 behind in a wretched inn, in an obscure country village. 
 
 " I have no pity for these wanton jades," continued the old 
 man in a tone of vexation, " more particularly for a creature 
 like this, who has embittered so many hours of my existence. 
 Why should I tell you how I took charge of her, toiled for 
 her, opened my purse, and in absence provided for her ? It 
 were better to throw my money into the ditch, and spend 
 my time in any profitless pursuit, than bestow the smallest 
 care on such a worthless creature. At first I received a few 
 letters of thanks, informing me of her place of residence. 
 At length her communications ceased, and she did not even 
 evince gratitude for the money I had expended upon her 
 during her confinement. But the treachery and frivolity of 
 women suffice to secure a subsistence for themselves, whilst 
 they occasion weary and anxious hours to many a noble heart." 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 IT would not be difficult to conjecture the nature of "Wil- 
 h elm's feelings as he returned home after this conversation. 
 All his old wounds had been opened afresh, and the convic- 
 tion that his beloved Mariana was not wholly unworthy of 
 his affection had been once more renewed within his mind. 
 In the interest which the old man had displayed in her 
 behalf, and in the reluctant praises in which he had in- 
 dulged, "Wilhelm saw clearly the whole power of her attrac- 
 tions, and even the severity of his censure was unable to 
 lower her in his estimation. Her accuser had indeed ad- 
 mitted that he was himself a partner in all her faults, and 
 her very silence at length appeared excusable, or at least 
 only served to awaken mournful feelings in his mind. His 
 imagination pictured her as she wandered destitute through 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 1CI 
 
 the world, a weak and helpless mother, bending under the 
 burden of a child that was perhaps his own, and the thought 
 awakened in his bosom feelings of the most intense anguish. 
 
 Mignon had been expecting his arrival, and accompanied 
 him on his way up stairs. When she had put down the 
 liirht, she requested that she might be allowed to perform 
 before him that evening for his amusement. He would 
 rather have declined, particularly as he was ignorant of the 
 nature of the intended exhibition, but he could not refuse 
 any request which the kind creature might make. She dis- 
 appeared for a short time, but soon returned carrying a 
 small carpet beneath her arm, which she spread upon the 
 floor. Wilhelm allowed her to proceed. She then brought 
 four candles and placed one upon each corner of the carpet. 
 A basket of eggs which she now produced displayed the 
 nature of her intention more clearly. With carefully measured 
 steps she proceeded to walk backwards and forwards upon 
 the carpet, laying down the eggs at certain intervals, after 
 which she called to a man who was in waiting for her 
 summons and who could play upon the violin. He retired 
 into one corner of the room with his instrument, whereupon 
 she tied a handkerchief before her eyes, gave the sign, and 
 instantly like a piece of machinery set suddenly in motion, 
 she commenced a series of graceful gestures, keeping time 
 accurately with the music, and marking the notes with the 
 sound of her castanets. 
 
 Nimbly, lightly, and with quick precision she carried on 
 the dance. Her step was so sure and so true between the 
 eggs and beside them, that it seemed impossible to avoid 
 treading upon some or disturbing others in the rapidity of 
 her movements. But no ! she touched none, though she 
 passed through the labyrinth with every variety of step 
 wide and narrow, at one time dancing, and then gracefully 
 bending till she almost touched the ground with her knees. 
 
 Continuous as the motion of a clock she pursued her 
 course, and the strange music as it was repeated, even lent 
 a new impulse to the dance, which again commenced afresh, 
 and so continuing, was brought at length to a conclusion. 
 
 This singular spectacle completely captivated Wilhelm. 
 All at once he forgot the weight of his own cares and fol- 
 lowed every movement of the lovely creature who sported 
 
102 
 
 before him, and he began to observe with surprise how re- 
 markably the dance tended to unfold her character. 
 
 In her movements she was exact, precise, and reserved, 
 but vehement, and in situations where tenderness was to 
 be displayed, she was more formal than attractive. "Wil- 
 helm once more felt all his fondness for her to revive. 
 He longed to take this forsaken child to his heart, to hold 
 her in his embrace, and with the fulness of a father's love to 
 awaken within her bosom all the joys of existence. 
 
 The dance was now concluded. Softly with her foot 
 Mignon rolled the eggs together into a little heap, neither 
 forgetting nor injuring any of them, then taking her place 
 beside them, she removed the bandage from her eyes, and 
 finished her performance with a graceful bow. 
 
 Wilhelm thanked her for having so cleverly, as well as so 
 unexpectedly, performed a dance which he had long desired 
 to witness. He patted her and expressed his regret that 
 she had undergone so much fatigue. He promised however 
 that she should have a new frock, to which she answered 
 with great eagerness, " Then it must be one of your own 
 colour !" He promised that it should be so, without how- 
 ever very clearly understanding what she meant. She then 
 collected her eggs, took her carpet beneath her arm, inquired 
 whether Wilhehn wanted any thing more, and bounded from 
 the apartment. 
 
 He was informed by the musician that for some time past 
 she had taken considerable trouble to instruct him in the 
 music of the dance which she had performed. It was the 
 well-known fandango, and for this purpose she had sung over 
 the tune to him repeatedly. She had also wished to pay him 
 for his trouble, but he had persisted in refusing the money 
 which she offered. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 WILHELM passed an anxious night, either wholly awake, 
 or else tossing restlessly in troubled dreams. At one time 
 he beheld Mariana arrayed in all her beauty at another 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 103 
 
 time he saw her sunk in deep distress and presently she 
 appeared to bf* carrying a child in her arms, of which she A\ ;is 
 soon afterwards bereaved. The morning had scarcely dawned 
 before Miguon made her appearance she was accompanied 
 by a tailor. She had in her hands some grey cloth and blue 
 taffeta, and declared in her own artless way, that she wanted 
 anew jacket and sailor's trousers, ornamented with blue culls 
 and ribbons, as she had seen them worn by the boys in tin; 
 street. 
 
 Wilhelm, since his separation from Mariana, had dis- 
 continued the use of all gay colours. He had adopted grey, 
 the colour of the shades, and his sober apparel \\asenlivened 
 by nothing more cheerful than a trimming of sky blue, or 
 perhaps a collar of the same. Mignon, who was anxious to 
 assume the colour which he liked, urged the tailor to be ex- 
 peditious, and he promised that his work should soon be 
 completed. 
 
 The fencing and dancing lessons which ,Wilhelm took on 
 this day from Laertes, were attended with but little ad- 
 vantage. They were interrupted by the appearance of 
 Melina, who had come to explain circumstantially how a 
 little company of actors had now been got together, sufficient, 
 as he said, to perform plays of every description. He then re- 
 newed his proposal to Wilhelm, that the latter should advance 
 funds for a theatrical undertaking ; to which, however, he 
 resolutely refused to accede. 
 
 Soon afterwards, Philina and the girls came in, making 
 their usual clatter, and bursting into tits of merry laughter. 
 They had, it appeared, arranged another excursion ; for 
 change of place, and variety of every kind, were schemes 
 which incessantly occupied their thoughts. Their highest 
 delight consisted in dining every day in a different place, 
 and upon the present occasion they contemplated the enjoy- 
 ment of a trip by water. 
 
 A boat for the purpose, in which they intended to explore 
 the windings of the romantic river, had already been engaged 
 by the Pedant. Philina encouraged the proposal, all parties 
 seemed perfectly willing, and the company was soon on 
 board. 
 
 " How shall we amuse ourselves in the first instance ?" 
 inquired Philina, as soon as they had taken their seats. 
 
104 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 " The easiest thing to do,*' replied Laertes, " would be to 
 extemporize a play. Let each of us assume a character best 
 suited to his talents, and we shall soon see how the scheme 
 will prosper/' 
 
 "Capital!" said Wilhelm. " And yet," he continued, 
 " in a company where no disguise is practised, where every 
 one without restraint follows his own inclination, there can- 
 not be much elegance or satisfaction, and this will also be 
 the case where too much disguise is assumed. We had 
 better, therefore, begin with a show of disguise, and then 
 from behind our masks we may be as candid as we please." 
 
 " Yes !'* observed Laertes, " it is for this reason that the 
 society of women is always so charming ; they never shew 
 themselves in their natural characters." 
 
 "In other words," observed Madame Melina, "they have 
 less vanity limn men, who always fancy they are attractive 
 enough, just as nature has made them." 
 
 In the meantime, the course of the river had carried them 
 through a country diversified with charming undulations 
 and woods, with gardens and vineyards, and the young 
 ladies, but particularly Madame Melina, expressed their 
 givat di 'light at the beauty of the landscape. The latter, 
 indeed, burst into the recital of a sweet poem of the descrip- 
 tive kind, upon a similar beautiful prospect, but she was 
 interrupted by Philina, who proposed an agreement that 
 no one should venture to speak of anything inanimate, 
 and she urged the adoption of the previous proposal to 
 extemporize a play. "The old man," she said, "could be 
 a half-pay officer ; Laertes might be a fencing-master un- 
 employed ; the Pedant, a jew, whilst she herself would act 
 the part of a Tyrolese peasant, and the rest of the company 
 might choose whatever characters they pleased. They might 
 fancy they were total strangers to each other, and that they 
 had met for the first time on board a ship." 
 
 She commenced at once to perform her part by entering 
 into conversation with the jew, and a general cheerfulness 
 was soon di If used around. 
 
 They had not long continued their course upon the river 
 when the boatman requested permission to take in a stranger, 
 who was standing on the bank, and had beckoned to him. 
 
 " That is just what we want," cried Philina, " a chance 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 105 
 
 passenger is the very thing required to make our travelling 
 party perfect." 
 
 A gentlemanly looking man now stepped into the 
 boat. From his dress and dignified appearance he might 
 have been taken for a country clergyman. He saluted the 
 company, who thanked him in their several ways and informed 
 him of tlu> nature of the pastime in which they were engaged. 
 He immediately assumed the character of a country clergy- 
 man, and played his part to their general satisfaction, in the 
 most perfect manner, at one moment offering wholesome 
 advice, at another relating lively anecdotes, and observing 
 upon sundry little weaknesses and defects of character which 
 he had observed, but never forfeiting the respect of his com- 
 panions. 
 
 In the meantime every one who had committed any, 
 even the slightest mistake, had paid a forfeit. Philina 
 had made a collection of them with praiseworthy industry 
 and had already threatened the clergyman with the in- 
 fliction of countless kisses when the forfeits should be 
 released, although in point of fact he had not made a 
 single mistake. Melina, however, had been fairly plundered, 
 studs, buckles and all his personal ornaments had fallen into 
 Philina's hands. He had undertaken to personate an English 
 tourist, a character in which he found himself completely at 
 fault. 
 
 The time thus passed away in the most agreeable 
 manner possible. Each one of the party had found abun- 
 dant opportunity for exercising his fancy and his wit, and 
 they had all seasoned their respective parts with pleasant and 
 entertaining jokes. At length they reached the spot where 
 they intended to pass the day, and Wilhelm soon found him- 
 self engaged in a walk and in a most agreeable conversation 
 with the clergyman, for so we shall now call him, in con- 
 formity with his appearance and the character which he had 
 lately assumed. 
 
 "I think," observed the stranger, "that this sort of 
 practice must be very useful for actors, when it is carried on 
 in the company of their friends and acquaintances. It seems 
 to me the best mode that could be adopted for drawing men 
 out of themselves, as it were, and for causing them by a 
 
106 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 circuitous route, to return again to themselves. It should 
 be a rule in every company of actors to practise in this 
 manner, and the public would be the gamers, if every month 
 an unwritten play were performed in which the actors should 
 have prepared themselves by several previous rehearsals." 
 
 " But," answered Wilhelm, " we ought not to require that 
 every extemporized piece should be wholly composed at 
 the very moment, but should feel satisfied if the plan, 
 the treatment and division of the scenes were previously 
 arranged, and the completion merely left to the talents of 
 the actor." 
 
 " Quite right," replied the stranger, " and with regard to 
 this completion, as you term it, a play of such a kind would 
 ^ain in many particulars after the actors should have had the 
 advantage of a little training. I do not mean, however, in 
 respect to the composition, for verbal ornaments are the pro- 
 vince of the studious author, but in respect to action, looks, 
 gestures and things of that nature, in short, to all that 
 silent by-play which seems to be gradually forsaking the 
 stage. I admit there are some performers in Germany, 
 whose acting does represent their thoughts and their feelings, 
 who by means of pauses, silence and looks as well as by 
 light and graceful movements prepare their audience for a 
 speech, and by a charming sort of a pantomime, unite the 
 breaks in the dialogue with the whole entertainment ; but 
 a practice of this kind which should assist a happy natural 
 talent, and help it elucidate the author, is less common than, 
 for the gratification of the public, we could desire." 
 
 " But," said Wilhelm, " will not that happy natural talent, 
 as the first and last essential, enable not only an actor, but 
 every artist, and every other man to attain the very highest 
 object of his ambition?" 
 
 " The first and last essential it may be the beginning and 
 the end but in the middle, the artist will find himself defi- 
 cient in many requisites if education, and early education too, 
 have not previously moulded him into that form which he is 
 to retain, and perhaps on this point, the man commonly styled 
 a genius, labours under greater disadvantages than he who 
 possesses only ordinary talents, as the one can be more easily 
 misinstructed and driven more irretrievably into a wrong 
 direction than the other." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 107 
 
 " But will not genius save itself?" asked Wilhelm, "is 
 she not competent to heal her self-inflicted wounds ?" 
 
 " By no means," answered his companion, "or only to a 
 very trifling extent, and even then with extreme difficulty. 
 For no one should flatter himself that he can overcome the \ 
 impressions of his early youth. If he has been educated in I 
 happy freedom, surrounded by beautiful and noble objects, k 
 in constant intercourse with worthy men, if his instructors 
 have taught him what it was necessary for him first to learn, 
 iu order that his subsequent education might be more easily 
 completed, if he has never learned what must afterwards be 
 unlearnt, if his earliest conduct has been so regulated, that 
 without renouncing any of his habits, he is capable after- 
 wards of producing what is excellent, such a man will lead 
 a purer, more perfect, and a happier life than another who 
 has consumed his youthful energies in struggles and in error. 
 Much is said and written about education, but I find very 
 few indeed who are capable of understanding and adopting 
 the simple and comprehensive idea of education, which in- 
 cludes every thing within itself." 
 
 " That may well be the case," said Wilhelm, "for most 
 men are narrow-minded enough to wish that all others should 
 be educated after their own model. Happy those whom fate 
 protects and educates according to his talents." 
 
 " Fate," said the other, with a smile, "is in truth an excellent 
 but a dear instructor. I should rather rely upon the under- 
 standing of a human teacher. Fate, whose wisdom I 
 supremely respect, sometimes finds in chance through which 
 it works, an unaccommodating instrument. For the opera- 
 tions of the latter are seldom in complete or perfect accord- 
 ance with the decisions of the former." 
 
 "You appear to me to express a very extraordinary 
 opinion," rejoined Wilhelm. 
 
 " Not at all. The experience of the world will on the 
 whole, justify my opinion. Are not many things very 
 mighty in their beginnings, which after all, terminate very 
 absurdly ?" 
 
 "You jest," 
 
 "By no means," continued the other. "And is not this 
 precisely the case with individuals? Supposefate had destined 
 a man to become a good actor and why should fate not pro- 
 
108 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 vide us with good actors? and that chance should un- 
 fortunately lead the youth to a puppet-show might he not 
 there acquire an early love for what is tasteless and degrading, 
 tolerate the veriest insipidities, and eventually witness them 
 with interest and pleasure, thus corrupting his early impres- 
 sions which it is impossible afterwards ever to efface, and 
 from whose influence one can never become wholly detached." 
 
 " But why speak of puppet-shows ?" asked Wilhelm, in- 
 terrupting his companion with some amazement. 
 
 "An accidental illustration," replied the other, " but if it 
 does not please you, let us take another. Suppose fate had des- 
 tined a man to become a great painter, and it had pleased chance 
 that his youth should be spent in dark huts, and amongst 
 barns and stables, do you think that such a man could ever 
 succeed in attaining a proper nobleness, purity and elevation 
 of soul ? The more strongly he may have become connected 
 in his youth with the impure, which he may have sought, 
 with his utmost talents, to ennoble, the more rigorously will 
 it wreak vengeance upon him during the remainder of his 
 life, because during his efforts to conquer its influence, 
 it has become entwined with his very being. Whoever 
 spends his youth in the society of low and ignoble com- 
 panions, will never fail in after life, even with better society 
 at his command, to regret the loss of those associates who 
 have left an impression upon his mind, blended with a 
 memory of youthful joys which never can return." 
 
 We may readily suppose that during this conversation, the 
 remainder of the company had gradually retired to a distance. 
 Indeed, Philina had taken her departure at the very com- 
 mencement, but the whole party met once more at a cross 
 avenue. Philina now produced the forfeits which were in 
 various ways to be redeemed. During the entire proceeding, 
 the stranger won the good will of the whole party, and more 
 particularly of the ladies by his happy suggestions, and by his 
 unrestrained participation in the general mirth, and thus the 
 hours of the day passed over in merriment, in singing, in 
 kissing, and all kinds of pastime, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 109 
 
 CHAPTER X, 
 
 As the party was now about to return home, they looked 
 about for their clergyman, but he had disappeared and was 
 nowhere to be found. 
 
 " It is not quite correct for one, who in other respects has 
 acted politely enough," said Madame Melina, "to desert a 
 company who had received him so hospitably, without even 
 bidding them farewell." 
 
 " It has occurred to me more than once," observed Laertes, 
 " that I have met this singular person somewhere or other 
 before. It was my intention to question him on the subject 
 before we separated." 
 
 " I have thought the same thing," said Wilhelm, '" and I 
 should certainly not have allowed mm to depart without 
 lea 1-1 ling something of his circumstances. I sadly mistake 
 if I have not spoken to him before." 
 
 " And yet you may be very grossly mistaken upon this 
 point," said Philina, "he seems to you to have the air of 
 an acquaintance, because he looks like a man, an individual 
 character, and does not resemble Jack or Ned." 
 
 " What do you mean? " inquired Laertes, " do we not 
 also look like men ? " 
 
 " I know what I have said," replied Philina, "and if you 
 do not understand me, it is not of much consequence. I 
 shall after all have no occasion to explain my meaning." 
 
 Two carriages now drew up, and the whole party praised 
 the attention of Laertes, by whom they had been ordered. 
 Philina took her seat next to Madame Melina. and opposite 
 to Wilhelm. The rest of the company arranged themselves 
 as best they could. Laertes rode home on Wilhelm' s horse 
 which had been brought out upon the occasion. 
 
 Philina had scarcely taken her seat in the carriage before 
 
 she commenced singing some pretty songs, and gradually 
 
 turned the conversation to some stories, from which, she said, 
 
 a series of dramas might very readily be constructed. By 
 
 this clever contrivance, she at once put Wilhelm into the 
 
 >Mble- humour, and forthwith, from the wealth of his 
 
 vivid imagination, he composed an entire play, complete in 
 
 /cct, plot, scenes, acts, and character*. It was 
 
110 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 considered an improvement to introduce some airs and songs. 
 They were composed instantly, and Philina, who entered 
 cordially into the amusement, adapted the words to some 
 well-known tunes, and sang them extempore. 
 
 She was in one of her most agreeable humours to-day ; 
 she succeeded in amusing Wilhelm with all manner of di- 
 verting trifles, and he himself had not for a long time enjoyed 
 so much happiness. 
 
 Ever since he had made that appalling discovery which 
 had torn him from Mariana's arms, he had continued firm 
 to the vow which he then made to resist in future the en- 
 snaring charms of woman ; to avoid the faithless sex, 
 and to restrain within his own bosom the soft pains and 
 s\vivt delights of love. The conscientious firmness with 
 which he had hitherto kept this resolution, had imparted 
 new vigour to his nature ; and as his heart was unable to 
 exist without sympathy, he pined now for the sweet inter- 
 change of reciprocal affection. Thus he once more became 
 environed with dim visions of his youthful joys ; his eye 
 rested with gladness on every object which possessed a 
 charm, and he had never felt more disposed than at present 
 to pass a favourable judgment upon a lovely form. In such a 
 disposition of mind, we may conceive how dangerous to him 
 must have been the influence of the wild and giddy being 
 with whom he had now become acquainted. 
 
 On reaching home, they found that Wilhelm' s apartment 
 had been set in order, and prepared for their reception. 
 The chairs had been arranged as for the reading of a lecture. 
 The table stood in the middle of the room, ready to receive 
 the punch-bowl, which was destined subsequently to take its 
 place thereupon. 
 
 The German chivalry-plays were at that time new, and 
 had just begun to excite the attention and interest of the 
 public. The old actor had brought one of these with him, 
 and they had unanimously agreed that it should now be read 
 aloud. The company accordingly sat down, and Wilhelm 
 having taken possession of the book, began to read. 
 
 The description of the armed knights, the ancient castles, 
 the true-heartedness, sincerity, and honesty of the characters 
 portrayed, were received with universal approbation. The 
 reader exerted his powers to the utmost, and the audience 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 1 II 
 
 became enraptured with delight. Between the third and 
 fourth acts, the punch was introduced in an ample howl, and 
 as the piece itself was replete with scenes of drinking and 
 fighting, it seemed but natural that on every such occasion 
 the audience should take the place of the heroes during the 
 imaginary combats, and drink to the prosperity of the heroes 
 whose deeds had won their admiration. 
 
 Each individual of the party became inflamed with the 
 glorious spirit of national enthusiasm. And they found in- 
 expressible delight in the reflection that a German company 
 was entertained in this poetic manner, upon their own soil, 
 and so thoroughly in conformity with their own character. 
 The vaults and cellars, the ruined castles, the moss-covered 
 towers, and the hollow trees, but, above all, the midnight 
 gipsy scenes, and the secret tribunals, produced an indes- 
 cribable effect. Every actor now understood how, clad in 
 helmet and cuirass, and accompanied by his partner, orna- 
 mented with expanded ruff, it would become them to repre- 
 sent the national character to the public. Each one insisted 
 on instantly assuming a name taken from the piece, and 
 Madame Melina vowed that the son or daughter witli which 
 she hoped soon to be blest, should on no account be 
 christened by any other name than Albert or Matilda. 
 
 Towards the fifth act, the applause became louder and 
 more boisterous, until finally, when the hero proved victorious 
 over his oppressor, and the tyrant met with deserved 
 punishment, the delight of all became so intense that they 
 vowed they had never known such blissful moments. 
 Melina, inspired by his copious libations, was the loudest in 
 his exclamations of rapture, and when the second punch-bowl 
 had been drained, and the midnight hour approached, Laertes 
 swore vehemently that no human being was worthy again to 
 touch the glasses with his lips ; and with this exclamation, 
 he flung his own through the window into the street. His 
 companions followed his example, and in spite of the pro- 
 testations of the host, who had hastened to the scene of 
 revelry, the punch-bowl itself, to avoid the possibility of 
 pollution from unholy liquor at a similar feast, was dashed 
 into a thousand pieces. Philina's state of excitement \\ as 
 less observable than that of her companions, who had filing 
 themselves upon the sofa in no very elegant postures, whilst 
 
112 WILHELM MEISTEK'S 
 
 she maliciously encouraged the general tumult. Madame 
 Melina commenced the recitation of some heroic verses, 
 whilst her husband, who was never very amiable in his cups, 
 found fault with the preparation of the punch, asserting that 
 he could arrange a party of a far superior kind, until, be- 
 coming ruder and noisier as Laertes commanded silence, the 
 latter inconsiderately increased the general confusion by fling- 
 ing the fragments of the broken punch-bowl at his head. 
 
 The town patrol had arrived in the meantime, and insisted 
 on admission into the house. Wilhelm, who had drunk but 
 little, though he was much excited by his reading, found 
 some difficulty, even with the assistance of the host, to ap- 
 pease them by money and fair promises, and to dismiss the 
 different members of the company to their respective homes, 
 in consequence of their helpless condition. Discontented 
 and overcome by sleep, upon his return he flung himself 
 down upon his bed without undressing, and nothing could 
 equal his dissatisfaction when he awoke on the following 
 morning, and dimly recalled the boisterous scenes of the 
 previous day, and thought over the folly and general bad 
 results which had flowed from their attempts to give effect to 
 a talented and inspired poetical performance. 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 AFTER a brief reflection, Wilhelm summoned the host, 
 and desired him to place to his account, not only the proper 
 charges, but likewise all the damages which had been com- 
 mitted. He learned at the same time, to his great vexation, 
 that his horse had been so much injured by Laertes during 
 the excursion of the previous day, that it was rendered com- 
 pletely useless, and the farrier gave very little hope of its 
 ultimate recovery. 
 
 A salute from Philina, with which she greeted him from 
 the window, soon restored him to his former cheerfulness, 
 and he went at once into the nearest shop to purchase a 
 little present, which he owed her in return for the powder 
 knife already mentioned, and we must admit that he did not 
 confine himself within the strict limits of equivalent value. 
 He bought not only a pair of very handsome ear-rings, but 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 113 
 
 also a bonnet and a shawl, and some other trifles, similar to 
 those of which she had been so lavish upon the first day of 
 their acquaintance. 
 
 Madame Melina, who chanced to observe him in the act 
 of delivering his presents, found an opportunity before 
 dinner to remonstrate with him seriously about his partiality 
 for this girl ; but he was much surprised at her interference, 
 believing there was nothing which he deserved less than 
 a reproach upon such a subject. He protested vehemently 
 that he had never even entertained the idea of an attach- 
 ment for a person with whose conduct he was so well ac- 
 quainted, and he offered general excuses for his friendly 
 and polite conduct towards her, without, however, satisfying 
 Madame Melina. On the runt run', the vexation of that lady 
 became uivaier, as >iie observed that the course of ilattery 
 by which she had herself won the partiality of Wilhelm, was 
 insufficient to secure her conquest from the attacks of a 
 younger, more talented, and more animated rival. 
 
 Her husband, also, upon sitting down to table, showed 
 signs of vexation and discontent, and he was beginning to 
 display his ill-temper in many trilling ways, when the host 
 entered, and introduced a player upon the harp. " I know," 
 he said, " that you will be charmed with the performance, as 
 well as with the singing, of this man. No person who hears 
 him can refrain from admiring his skill, and relieving his 
 wants." 
 
 "Let him leave us," answered Melina, "I am in no 
 humour now to listen to a wandering minstrel, and besides, 
 we are well enough provided with singers of our own, who 
 have no objection to earn a trifle." In saying this, he cast 
 a look of malice at Philina. She understood him without 
 difficulty, and to his great mortification she instantly under- 
 took the defence of the harper, and turning towards Wil- 
 helm, she inquired, " Shall we not hear the man? Can 
 we do nothing to relieve ourselves from this dreadful ennui ?" 
 
 Melina was about to reply ; and an angry contest would 
 doubtless have ensued, if Wilhelm had not in a friendly 
 manner welcomed the harper, who entered the room at that 
 very moment, and was invited to approach. 
 
 The remarkable appearance of their guest astonished the 
 whole company, and ho had already taken possession of a 
 
 I 
 
114 WILHELM MEISTEli'S 
 
 chair, before any one found courage enough to ask him a 
 single question, or to offer a remark. A few grey hairs en- 
 circled his bald head, and his large blue eyes beamed bene- 
 volently from beneath his long white eyebrows. His nose 
 was beautifully shaped. His beard was hoary and flowing, 
 but did not entirely conceal the form of his sweetly smiling 
 lips ; whilst a long dark-brown tunic wrapped his slender 
 body from the neck to his very feet. He now began to 
 play a prelude upon his harp, which he had brought towards 
 him. 
 
 The delicious sounds which he drew from the instrument 
 entranced his whole audience. 
 
 " Do you not sing as well as play, my kind old man ?" 
 inquired Philina. 
 
 " Give us something," said Wilhelm, " that will enchant 
 our hearts and souls as well as our senses. Instruments should 
 only serve as accompaniments to the voice ; for melodies and 
 tunes without words and meaning, appear to me like butter- 
 flies or beautiful humming birds, which hover round us in 
 the air, and which we could wish to catch and make our own, 
 whilst song, on the other hand, like a genius, aspires to 
 heaven, and entices that better self which dwells within 
 us to bear him company." 
 
 The old man looked at Wilhelm ; then raising his eyes, 
 and striking a few notes upon his harp, he commenced 
 to sing. His subject was the eulogy of minstrelsy; he 
 praised the happiness of bards, and admonished men to pay 
 them honour. He sang with so much animation and truth 
 that it seemed as if he had composed it for that very oc- 
 casion. With difficulty Wilhelm refrained from embracing 
 him ; but the fear of occasioning a laugh at his own ex- 
 pense, confined him to his seat, whilst the rest of the 
 company employed themselves in making some foolish ob- 
 servations upon the harper, and discussing whether he were 
 a Papist or a Jew. 
 
 Wilhelm inquired who was the author of the song, but 
 could obtain no positive information ; he was told that the 
 author was a person rich in songs, and only anxious that they 
 should please. The company now became for the most part 
 merry and cheerful, and even Melina shewed a sort of 
 frankness, after his own peculiar fashion. Whilst they all 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 115 
 
 chatted and joked together, the old man began in the most 
 animated style to sing a eulogium upon the delights of social 
 intercourse. With winning tones, he celebrated the charms 
 of harmony and courtesy. Suddenly the style of his music 
 became cold, harsh, and discordant. In mournful strains, 
 he now sang the evils of detested selfishness, of short-sighted 
 enmity, and of baleful discord ; but the hearts of his audience 
 soon felt relieved from these oppressive restraints, while 
 soaring aloft on the pinions of delicious melody, he poured 
 forth a tribute in honour of peace-makers, and sang the 
 rapture of souls who forget the pangs of separation in the 
 joys of restored love. 
 
 He had scarcely ended, when Wilhelm exclaimed, " Who- 
 ever you are, who, like a guardian angel visit us, whose 
 sweet voice brings to ns a blessing and a consolation, accept 
 my homage and my thanks ! Know that we all admire 
 you, and trust in us if ever you should find yourself in 
 need." 
 
 The old harper remained silent ; his fingers wandered 
 carelessly among the chords of his instrument ; finally, he 
 struck them more boldly, and sang as follows : 
 
 What sounds are those which from the wall, 
 
 And o'er the bridge I hear? 
 Those strains should echo through this hall, 
 
 And greet a monarch's ear. 
 So spake the King the page retires 
 His answer brought, the King desires 
 
 The Minstrel to appear. 
 
 Hail, Sire ! and hail each gallant knight ! 
 
 Fair dames, I greet ye well ! 
 Like Heaven, this hall with stars is bright, 
 
 But who your names may tell ? 
 What matchless glories round me shine ! 
 But 'tis not now for eyes like mine 
 
 On scenes like these to dwell. 
 
 The Minstrel raised his eyes inspired, 
 
 And struck a thrilling strain, 
 Each hero's heart is quickly fired, 
 
 Each fair one thrills with pain : 
 The King, enchanted with the Bard, 
 His magic talent to reward, 
 
 Presents his golden chain. 
 
116 TVILHELM MEISTEK'S 
 
 ! deck me with no chain of gold, 
 Such gift becomes the knight, 
 
 Before whose warrior eyes so bold, 
 
 The rushing squadrons fight, 
 Or let the glittering bauble rest 
 Upon your Chancellor's honoured breast 
 
 He'll deem the burden light. 
 
 1 sing but as the young bird sings, 
 That carols in the tree, 
 
 The rapture of the music brings 
 
 Its own reward to me. 
 Yet would I utter one request 
 That of your wine one cup the best, 
 
 Be given to-day by thee. 
 
 The cup is brought the Minstrel quaffed ; 
 
 He thrills with joy divine 
 Thrice happy home, where such a draught 
 
 Js given and none repine! 
 AYlii-n fortune smiles, then think of me, 
 And thank kind Heaven, as I thank thee, 
 
 For such a cup of wine. 
 
 "When the harper, at the conclusion of his song, seized a 
 goblet of wine that stood before him, and turning towards 
 his benefactors, quaffed it off with a look of thankfulness, a 
 shout of joy arose from the whole assembly. They expressed 
 their wishes amid a general clapping of hands, that the wine 
 which he had drunk might restore his strength, and refresh 
 his aged limbs. He then sang several other ballads, and 
 still further excited the hilarity of the company. 
 
 " Old man," inquired Philina, " do you know the song 
 styled, ' The Shepherd adorned himself for the dance ?' " 
 
 " O yes !" he answered, " if you will sing it, I will gladly 
 accompany you." 
 
 Philma stood up, and prepared to perform her part. The 
 harper commenced the air, and she sang the words. We 
 shall not trouble our readers by repeating them, as they 
 might consider the ballad uninteresting, or composed in bad 
 taste. In the meantime, the company were growing a little 
 noisy. They had drunk several flasks of wine, and were 
 becoming somewhat excited. But as the evil results of their 
 late convivial entertainment were fresh in the memory of 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 117 
 
 our friend, he felt anxious to break up the party, and there- 
 fore, paying the old harper liberally for his trouble, to which 
 the others likewise contributed, the latter was allowed to 
 retire, the company promising themselves new delight from a 
 repetition of his performance in the evening. 
 
 As soon as he was gone, Wilhelm observed to Philina, 
 " I am unable to see any merit, either poetical or moral, in 
 this favourite song of yours, but if you were to introduce 
 some worthy composition upon the stage, with your own 
 peculiar grace, simplicity, and elegance, it could not fail to 
 win a warm and general approbation." 
 
 " Yes," answi'ivd Philina, " it would indeed be a delightful 
 sensation to warm one's self at ice." 
 
 "But, in truth," said Wilhelm, "this man might make 
 many an actor feel ashamed. Did you mark how correct was 
 the dramatic expression of his ballads 1 Thriv was, in fact, 
 a more animated force of representation in his songs than 
 you will iind in more than one pedantic actor on our boards. 
 It would, indeed, be easy to mistake the acting of some 
 pieces for a mere narrative, and we might clothe these 
 musical narratives with a living embodiment. '' 
 
 " You are not quite just," answered Laertes, " I claim no 
 great merit, either as a singer or as an actor, but of this I 
 i'eel convinced, that when music guides the motions of the 
 body, imparting to them an animatiou which is governed by 
 prescribed rules of time ; when declamation and expression 
 are provided for me by the composer, my sensations are 
 wholly different from those which I experience in the prosaic 
 drama, where I must invent both action and declamation for 
 myself, and where I may be disturbed by the ignorance of a 
 fellow-actor." 
 
 "If I may venture an opinion," said Melina, " this man 
 may put us to the blush in one respect, and that too in a 
 material point. The strength of his talent is proved by the 
 profit which he can derive from it. He compels us, who 
 perhaps find it difficult to provide food for ourselves, to 
 share our meal with him. He possesses skill enough to 
 extract from our pockets by the magic of his song, the money 
 which we may yet need to provide employment for ourselves. 
 So happy do we feel in squandering the means upon which 
 depends the very subsistence of ourselves and others." 
 
118 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 This remark gave a disagreeable turn to the conversation. 
 "Wilhelm, who felt reproved, answered with some degree of 
 warmth ; and Melina, who never weighed his expressions 
 very carefully, gave vent to his complaints in not very cour- 
 teous observations. " It is now," he said, "just a fortnight 
 since we examined the theatre and its wardrobe, which are 
 in pledge in this place, and the whole might have been re- 
 deemed for a trifling sum of money. You allowed me to 
 entertain hopes that you would lend me the necessary 
 amount, but I am not yet aware that you have thought more 
 of the matter, or are now nearer to a determination. Had 
 vou then decided, we should have made some progress 
 before this time. You have not yet fulfilled your intention 
 to set out upon your travels, and it does not appear to me 
 that you have in the meanwhile saved much money, at least 
 there are persons who have found means to make it dis- 
 appear.' ' 
 
 This reproach, not wholly undeserved, wounded Wilhelm 
 keenly. He made a sharp and angry reply, and when the 
 company rose to depart, he seized the handle of the door, 
 and gave unequivocal evidence that it was not his intention 
 to continue much longer in such rude and ungrateful com- 
 pany. Quite out of humour, he descended the stairs, and 
 seating himself on a stone bench which stood before the door 
 of his hotel, he did not discover that, half out of mirth, and 
 half out of discontent, he had drunk more wine than was his 
 custom. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 AFTER "Wilhelm had spent some time thus sitting in 
 solitude, gazing on vacancy, and a prey to numberless dis- 
 tressing reflections, Philina came tripping and singing through 
 the doorway, and seated herself down beside him. Indeed, 
 it might be almost said that she sat in his lap, so closely did 
 she press to him. She leaned upon his shoulder, played 
 with his curls, patted his cheeks, and addressed him n the 
 kindest terms. She implored that he would remain with 
 them, and not leave her alone with the company, or she 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 119 
 
 musb die of ennui. She had found it impossible to live under 
 the same roof with Melina, and had therefore taken up her 
 quarters in the other hotel. 
 
 In vain did he resist her entreaties, and seek to make her 
 comprehend how he dared not, under any circumstances, 
 postpone his departure. She persisted in her entreaties, and 
 suddenly throwing her arms round his neck, she kissed him 
 in the fondest and most aifectionate manner imaginable. 
 
 "Are you mad?" cried Wilhelm, endeavouring to escape 
 from her'embrace, "to make the public street the scene of 
 your caresses, to which, moreover, I can have no possible 
 claim ? Let me go ; I neither can nor will remain." 
 
 " And 1 will hold you fast," she answered, " and will con- 
 tinue to kiss you here in the public street, till you have 
 promised what I want. I shall die of laughing," she con- 
 tinued. "This display of affection will persuade the good 
 people here that I am a newly-married wit'e, and all the hus- 
 bands who witness the tender scene will point me out to 
 their spouses as a pattern of innocent and simple affection." 
 
 Some persons passed by at that very moment, and she 
 began to caress him in the most loving manner, and in order 
 to avoid giving scandal, he felt himself compelled to play the 
 part of a submissive husband. She then made faces at the 
 people when their backs were turned, and full of wildness 
 she continued to commit all sorts of improprieties, until at 
 last he was obliged to promise that he would not go to-day, nor 
 to-morrow, nor the next day. 
 
 " You are a regular simpleton ! " she then said, as she 
 rose to leave him, " and I am a fool to lavish so much kindness 
 upon you." After going a short distance she turned round 
 with a smile and added, " I believe that is the reason why I 
 am so crazy about you, but I must go and fetch my knitting 
 that I may not be idle. Do you remain here, that on my 
 return I may find the stone man still seated on the stone 
 bench." 
 
 In this instance however she did him injustice, for not- 
 wit listanding that he had sought to restrain her vehemence, it 
 is not improbable that had he at that very time found himself 
 alone with her in a solitary bower, he might have returned 
 her caresses with interest. 
 
 Throwing a hasty glance after him she hastened into the 
 
120 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 house. He had no reason to follow her, indeed her conduct 
 had rather excited his disgust, and yet he rose from his seat, 
 without exactly knowing why, and went after her into the 
 house, 
 
 He was in the act of crossing the threshold when Melina 
 passed, and addressing him respectfully, begged his pardon 
 for some hasty expressions which he had used during their 
 last conversation. " You will excuse me," he said, " if I have 
 been rendered irritable by the condition in which I find my- 
 self placed. The anxiety of providing for a wife and perhaps 
 soon for a child forbids that I should feel the same daily 
 quiet enjoyment of life which you experience. Reflect upon 
 the subject again, and if it be possible, procure the theatrical 
 apparatus for me. 1 shall not be your debtor long, though I 
 shall owe you gratitude for ever." 
 
 "Will ul in inund himself stopped thus unexpectedly at the 
 threshold over which an irresistible attraction nrgCM him to 
 pursue Philina, and ho answered with a sudden absence of 
 mind, and the hasty impulse of good nature. " If I can 
 secure your happiness I will not dwell upon the matter 
 any longer. Go and make all necessary arrangements. I 
 shall be prepared to pay down the money either this evening 
 or to-morrow morning," and so saying he i^ave his hand to 
 Melina, in confirmation of his promise, and felt delighted 
 when he saw the latter hastening away along the street. 
 Unfortunately his entrance to the house was now retarded 
 by a second occurrence of a more disagreeable nature than 
 the former. 
 
 A young man carrying a bundle upon his back came 
 rapidly along the street and approached Wilhelm, who re- 
 cognised him instantly as Friedrich. 
 
 " Here I am once more ! " he cried, looking joyously 
 around with his large blue eyes, and surveying all the 
 windows of the house. " "Where is Mademoiselle ? I find it 
 impossible to wander through the world any longer without 
 seeing her." 
 
 The host who had just appeared, answered that she was 
 up stairs. With a few bounds Friedrich disappeared, and 
 Wilhelm remained alone as if rooted to the spot. At first 
 he had felt tempted to drag the youth back by the hair, but 
 soon the keen pang of a powerful jealousy stopped the flow 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 121 
 
 of his spirits and the course of his ideas, and when by degrees 
 he had recovered from his astonishment, he was seized with a 
 disquiet and a restlessness such as he had never in his life 
 experienced. 
 
 J Ie retired to his apartment where he found Mignon busily 
 employed in writing. She had for some time laboured hard 
 in copying out every thing which she knew by heart, and 
 she always handed her exercise to her friend and master to 
 correct. She was an industrious child and possessed an 
 ent understanding, but her letters were always unevenly 
 written and her lines were invariably crooked. Even here 
 the bod v seemed to contradict the mind. The application 
 of the child was a source of great delight to Wilhelm, 
 when he was undisturbed by other troubles, but now he paid 
 but little attention to her. She felt distressed at his in- 
 dillerence, and was vexed the more because she thought that 
 upon this occasion, she had been quite successful in the 
 performance of her task. 
 
 AVilhel m's restlessness now drove him to wander through 
 the different passages of the house, and at length he once 
 more approached the door. He observed a horseman 
 galloping by. He was a man of respectable appearance, of 
 middle age, and possessing a cheerful and contented look. 
 The host hastened towards him, extending his hand as to an 
 old friend, and said, "Ah, Herr Stallmeister, do we see you 
 once more amongst us ? " 
 
 " I must pause to feed my horse here," answered the 
 stranger, " I am on my way to the estate to have everything 
 put in order as quickly as possible. The Count is expected 
 to-morrow with his lady, they will remain here for some time 
 
 to entertain the Prince of in the best style. The 
 
 r will probably establish his head quarters in the 
 neighbourhood." 
 
 " It is a pity that you cannot stay with us," replied the 
 host, "we have good company here at present." The servant 
 now appeared and took the horse from the Stallmeister, who 
 thereupon entered into friendly conversation with the host, 
 and the former turned round from time to time to take :i 
 look at Wilhelm. 
 
 Our friend observing that he was the subject of conversa- 
 tion, retired and pursued his solitary way along the street. 
 
122 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN his present restless state of anxiety, he determined now 
 to go and pay a visit to the old harper, with the expectation 
 that his music would allay the evil spirit that tormented 
 him. Upon inquiring for the man, Wilhelm. was directed 
 to a poor public house in a distant corner of the town, 
 where having ascended the stairs to the very garret, he 
 heard the sweet sounds of the harp issuing from a small 
 chamber. They were heart-moving, melancholy sounds, and 
 served as the accompaniment to a sad and mournful song. 
 Wilhelm crept softly to the door, and as the good old man 
 was performing a sort of fantasia, uf which he many times 
 repeated several of the stanzas, partly in recitation and 
 partly in singing, he succeeded after paying close attention 
 for a short time, in collecting the following words : 
 
 
 Whose bread hath ne'er been steeped in tears, 
 
 Whose tranquil nights are free from woe, 
 Untaught by grief and dismal fears 
 
 The power of Fate can never know. 
 
 To Fate the wretched owe their birth, 
 
 And all the guilt they feel within, 
 Avenged and punished on this earth 
 
 By deep remorse that follows sin. 
 
 The soul-sick, melancholy strain, pierced deep into the 
 heart of Wilhelm. He thought he could perceive more than 
 once that the song of the old man was interrupted by his 
 tears ; for sometimes the harp-strings sounded alone, till, 
 after a short time, they were once more accompanied by a 
 voice, in low and broken tones. Wilhelm continued in 
 silence listening at the door, his soul was deeply moved ; the 
 sorrow of this stranger had again opened all his heart, he 
 gave vent to the full tide of his sympathy, and was both 
 unwilling and unable to restrain the torrent of tears which 
 the sad strain of the old man called forth. He now felt the 
 full force of every sorrow which had oppressed his soul, and 
 he abandoned himself without reserve to their united in- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 123 
 
 fluence. At length he pushed open the door of the chamber, 
 and stood before the harper. He was seated upon a 
 miserable bed, the only piece of furniture with which his 
 humble dwelling was supplied. 
 
 " What emotions have you not awakened within me, good 
 old man," he cried, " your song has thawed the frozen cur- 
 rent of my heart. Let me not interrupt you, but continue 
 your efforts to assuage your own sorrows, and thus to render 
 your friend happy." The harper wished to rise from his 
 seat and speak, but "Wilhelm prevented him ; for he had 
 observed before that the old man did not like conversing, so 
 he sat down beside him on the straw bed. 
 
 The old man dried his tears, and asked with a cheerful 
 smile, " How came you hither ? I intended to visit you 
 again this evening." 
 
 ""We shall be more private here," answered Wilhelm. 
 " But sing for me again whatever you please, whatever 
 accords best with your own feelings ; and forget, if possible, 
 that I am here. I think you cannot fail to-day. You must 
 be very happy in being able thus to find pleasure and em- 
 ployment in solitude ; and though you are everywhere a 
 stranger, always to find in your own heart the most delight- 
 ful society." 
 
 The old man looked down upon his harp, and when he had 
 finished a soft prelude, he thus commenced : 
 
 The man who pines for solitude 
 
 His wish may soon obtain ; 
 For friends will pass in various mood, 
 And leave him to his pain. 
 Then leave me to my woe ! 
 And when no friend is near, 
 I shall have nought to fear, 
 Nor solitude shall know. 
 
 The lover soft with footstep light, 
 
 Alone would meet his dear, 
 And thus to me, by day and night, 
 
 Grief comes when none are near- 
 Grief comes when I'm alone, 
 But soon I shall cease to moan, 
 And in my silent grave 
 Rest I shall gladly crave, 
 Then I shall be alone. 
 
124 WILHELM MEISTEU'S 
 
 We might indulge in much prolixity, and yet fail to express 
 the delight which Wilhelm derived from his strange inter- 
 view with this romantic stranger. The old man replied to 
 every observation by melodies, which awoke every kindred 
 feeling within his soul, and opened a wide field to his ima- 
 gination. 
 
 Whoever has been present at a meeting of pious persons, 
 who imagine that by separating from the Church, they can 
 succeed in edifying each other in a purer, more cordial, and 
 more spiritual manner, may form some idea of the present 
 scene. He will remember how the leader has sought to 
 adapt his words to the verse of some hymn, thus exalt- 
 ing the souls of his hearers to the point at which he has 
 wished that they should take flight how another of the 
 congregation has in another tune introduced the verse of 
 another hymn, and how even a third has acted in like manner, 
 and thus, whilst the ideas of the appropriate hymns were 
 suggested, each passage has by its new adaptation, become 
 new and distinct, as if it were composed for that very 
 occasion, by which means it has happened that from a familiar 
 circle of ideas, as well as from familiar tunes and words, that 
 particular society has enjoyed an original whole, by whose in- 
 fluence it has been at once charmed, strengthened, and re- 
 freshed. Thus did the old harper edify his guest. By means 
 of new and strange songs and passages, he aroused in 
 Wilhelm's bosom a train of feelings, new and old, and of 
 impressions, which, whether sleeping or slumbering, pleasant 
 or painful, excited the best hopes for the happiness of our 
 friend. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIY. 
 
 UPON his return he began to reflect more seriously than 
 ever upon his situation, and he had reached home with the 
 resolution of effecting his own rescue, when our host im- 
 parted to him in confidence that Mademoiselle Philina had 
 achieved a conquest over the Stallmeister, and that the latter, 
 after he had arranged his business at the estate, had returned 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 125 
 
 in great haste, and was now enjoying a good supper with her 
 in her chamber. 
 
 Just at this instant Melina arrived, accompanied by the 
 notary. They proceeded together to AVil helm's apartment, 
 where the latter, though with some reluctance, performed 
 his promise, and paid down three hundred dollars to Melina 
 who, handing them to the notary, received in return a docu-, 
 ment confirming the sale of the whole theatrical apparatus, 
 which was to be delivered to him on the following day. 
 
 Scarcely had they separated, when Wilhelm heard a cry 
 of distress proceeding from the house. It was the voice of 
 a youth, threatening and raging, interrupted, however, by 
 violent weeping and lamentation. The noise came from 
 above, penetrated to his apartment, and re-echoed from the 
 court-yard. 
 
 Curiosity having induced our friend to follow the direction 
 of the sound, he soon found Friedrich in a state bordering 
 upon madness. He wept, gnashed his teeth, stumped, 
 threatened with clenched fists, and seemed to have lost his 
 reason from fury and vexation. Mignon was standing opposite 
 to him, and looking on with surprise, while the host sought 
 to explain the transaction. 
 
 The boy, it seemed, upon his return, had been well re- 
 ceived by Philina. He was contented, merry, and cheer- 
 ful, and had sung and skipped about until the time when 
 the Stallmeister had become acquainted with her. The youth 
 then commenced to shew his discontent, by slamming the 
 doors violently, and by running about in a state of the greatest 
 excitement. Philina had ordered him to wait at table that 
 evening, whereupon he had become surly and impertinent, 
 and finally, having to serve up a ragout, instead of placing it 
 upon the table, he had overthrown it between Mademoiselle 
 and her guest, as they were seated rather close together. 
 The Stallmeister thereupon had boxed his ears soundly, and 
 turned him out of doors. The host, in the meantime, had 
 : ed to cleanse and arrange the dresses of the sufferers, 
 which had been seriously injured by the accident. 
 
 When the youth learned that his revenge had proved so 
 
 --ful, he burst into loud laughter, although the 
 
 at ihe same time were coursing plenteously do\yn 
 
 his cheeks, lie seemed for some time to be cordially do- 
 
126 WILUELM MEISTER'S 
 
 lighted, until a recollection of the insult he had suffered 
 from his stranger antagonist, occurred to him again, 
 whereupon he once more vented his fury in shouts and 
 threatenings. 
 
 Wilhelm surveyed this scene with inward shame. It 
 represented his own condition though in coarse and ex- 
 aggerated characters. He knew that he was himself 
 a prey to feelings of the most insatiable jealousy, and if a 
 sense of decorum had not restrained him, he would willingly 
 hare displayed his rage, by assailing with spiteful malice 
 the object of his affections, and challenging his hated 
 rival to single combat. Indeed he could have crushed the 
 whole crowd of spectators who seemed to have collected 
 together for his vexation. 
 
 Laertes who had just come up and heard the story, 
 wickedly encouraged the angry youth, as the latter 
 vehemently insisted that the Stalimeister should give him 
 satisfaction, and declared that as he himself had never borne 
 an insult with impunity, if his antagonist should refuse to 
 accept his challenge he would find some other means to be 
 revenged. 
 
 Laertes was now quite in his element. He proceeded up 
 stairs with the greatest seriousness to challenge the Stali- 
 meister in the name of the youth. 
 
 " That is excellent," replied the former. " I could not have 
 anticipated such a joke this evening." They went down stairs 
 together, and Philina followed them. " My son," said the 
 Stalimeister addressing Friedrich, " you are a brave young 
 man and I shall not decline your challenge. But as there is 
 so much disparity between us both in years and strength, 
 and the affair may therefore prove a little dangerous, I 
 propose that in place of other weapons, we take a pair of 
 foils, we can rub the buttons with chalk, and whoever marks 
 the other first, or makes the greater number of successful 
 thrusts, shall be considered the conqueror and be treated by 
 his antagonist with the best wine which the town can furnish." 
 
 Laertes decided that this proposal might be accepted, and 
 Friedrich obeyed him as his teacher. The foils were pro- 
 duced, whereupon Philina took a seat and proceeded with 
 her knitting, surveying the two combatants with the greatest 
 composure. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 127 
 
 The Stallmeister, who was a good fencer, was considerate 
 enough to spare his antagonist, and allowed certain marks 
 of chalk to appear upon his coat, whereupon they both em- 
 braced each other, and the wine was introduced. The 
 IStallineister inquired into Friedrich's parentage and history, 
 and the- latter related a story which he was accustomed to 
 iv peat, and with which we may perhaps at some other time 
 make our readers acquainted. 
 
 This duel completed the picture which Wilhelm had 
 drawn of his own condition. He felt that he would gladly 
 have used not only a foil but a sword against the Stall- 
 meister, although he knew that the latter was far his 
 superior in the use of such a weapon. Yet he did not 
 bestow a look upon Philina, he made no sign which could 
 betray his feelings, and after, he had quaffed a few glasses to 
 the health of the combatants, he hastened to his apart- 
 ment, where he became a prey to a thousand distressing 
 reflections. 
 
 He thought of the time when his soul sustained by hope 
 and earnest energy was borne aloft and rioted in the 
 keenest enjoyments of every description as in its own 
 proper element. It had become clear to him that he was 
 now wandering in a tangled path, where in scanty mea- 
 sure he but tasted those delights which formerly he had 
 quaffed in copious draughts. But he could not comprehend 
 the nature of that engrossing want which had become 
 the law of his existence, or how this want had been left 
 unsatisfied, and had rather increased and been misdirected by 
 the events of his life. 
 
 It can surprise no person therefore to learn that when 
 AVilhelm thought over his condition with a view of extricating 
 himself from the labyrinth in which he found himself, he 
 fell into the greatest perplexity. He found no consola- 
 tion in the reflection that his friendship for Laertes, his 
 attachment to Philina, and his love for Mignon had too 
 long detained him in one spot, and in one company, where 
 he might indulge his favourite inclinations, gratify his secret 
 wishes, and free from the entanglement of every earnest 
 pursuit, dream away his very existence. He thought he 
 possessed resolution enough to burst those ties arid to 
 depart at once if it were necessary. But he recoil 
 
128 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 that he had only a short time before entered into 'a 
 pecuniary transaction with Melina, and had become ac- 
 quainted with that strange old harper, the mystery of 
 whose existence he felt an insatiable desire to unravel. 
 After many conflicting thoughts, he determined at length or 
 fancied he* had determined that even these circumstances 
 should not restrain him. " I must go," he cried, " I must 
 go." He flung himself into a chair and felt greatly moved. 
 JYligiion now entered, and asked if she should assist him to 
 undress? She approached in silence, for she was deeply 
 grieved at having been already so abruptly dismissed. 
 
 Nothing is more affecting than the first discovery of a love 
 which has long been nourished in silence, the first sign of a 
 fidelity which has been nurtured in secret, and in the hour 
 of need becomes revealed to hinj who was previously unaware 
 of its existence. The bud whose leaves had been so long 
 HIM nly closed, had ripened at length, and Wilhelm's heart 
 was never more open than now to the influence of tender- 
 ness and affection. 
 
 -Mignon stood before him and observed his agitation. 
 " Master!" she exclaimed, " if you are unhappy, what is to 
 become of Mignon ?" " Dear creature," he said, taking her 
 hand, " you are also one of the sources of my sorrow ; I 
 must be gone." She Jooked into his eyes, which were glis- 
 tening with restrained tears, and threw herself on her knees 
 passionately before him. He continued to hold her hand, 
 and she placed her head upon his knees, and remained quite 
 silent. He played with her hair, and his heart glowed with 
 tenderness towards her. For a long time she continued 
 motionless. At length he perceived that she trembled, at 
 first almost imperceptibly, and then with a violence which 
 shook her whole frame. "What is the matter, Mignon ?" 
 he exclaimed. She raised her head and looked at him at- 
 tentively ; she then pointed to her heart, with a countenance 
 which expressed a deep but secret pain. He raised her up ; 
 she fell upon his breast. He clasped her to his bosom, and 
 kissed her. But she acknowledged his kindness by no soft 
 pressure of the hand, or by any other token of affection. 
 She held her own hand firmly to her heart, when suddenly 
 she uttered a piercing shriek, and her whole frame shook 
 with a violent aud spasmodic action. She rose upon her 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 129 
 
 feet, and then fell down suddenly, as if she had all at once 
 lost the power of her limbs. It was a fearful spectacle. 
 " My child !" he exclaimed, as he raised her from the ground, 
 and embraced her tenderly, " my child ! what is the matter ?" 
 The trembling continued ; it seemed to commence at her 
 heart and to extend from thence to all her limbs, which were 
 powerless and paralyzed, and she hung like a lifeless weight 
 within his arms. He pressed her to his bosom, and bathed 
 her with his tears. Suddenly she became rigid, like one who 
 suffers from the most intense physical pain ; but soon her 
 frame seemed inspired with new energy, and she threw her 
 arms wildly round Wilhelm's neck, and held him firmly, as 
 it were in the pressure of a strong spring which has closed, 
 whilst at the same moment a full tide of grief opened within 
 her soul, and her tears flowed in copious torrents from her 
 closed eyes into his bosom. He held her firmly. She con- 
 tinued to weep, and no tongue can express the silent 
 eloquence of her tears. Her long hair had escaped from its 
 restraint, and hung loosely around her, and it seemed as if 
 she were about to dissolve in a ceaseless flood of tears. At 
 length her limbs became again relaxed ; she seemed to pour 
 forth her very inmost soul, and in the confusion of the 
 moment Wilhelm feared that she would disappear like an 
 unearthly vision from his embrace. He held her, therefore, 
 in a firmer grasp. "My child," he exclaimed again, "my 
 child ! you are mine, if that word can bring you any comfort. 
 Yes, you are mine, I will be faithful to you, and never for 
 sake you !" Her tears continued to flow. At length she 
 was able to rise. Her face beamed with the light of a faint 
 cheerfulness. " My father !" she cried, " you will not for- 
 sake me ; you will continue to be a father to me, and I will 
 be your child!" 
 
 The soft sound of the harp at this instant began to echo 
 from the apartment. As the shades of evening closed around, 
 the old man brought his sweetest songs as an offering to 
 our friend, and still clasping the dear child tenderly in his 
 arms, he enjoyed the delight of the purest and most inde- 
 scribable happiness. 
 
330 W1LHELM MEISTEll'S 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 KNOW'ST, thou the land where tfce lemon tree blows 
 Where deep in the bo\v-r tlie ^old orange grows? 
 Where zephyrs from Heaven die softly away, 
 And the laurel and myrtle tree never decay? 
 Know'st thou it? Thither, oh! thither with the**, 
 My dearest, my fondest ! with thee would I flee. 
 
 Know'st thou the hall with its pillared arcades, 
 Its chambers so vast and its long colonnades ? 
 Where the statues of marble with features so mild 
 Ask, " Why have they used thee so harshly, my child T 
 Know'st thou it ? Thither, oh ! thither with thee, 
 My guide, my protector ! with thee would I flee. 
 
 Know'st thou the Alp which the vapour enshrouds, 
 Where the bold muleteer seeks his way thro' tiie clouds ? 
 In the cleft of the mountain the dragon abides, 
 And the rush of the stream tears the rock from its sides; 
 Know'st thou it ? Thither, oh ! thither with thee, 
 Leads our way, father then come, let us flee. 
 
 Wilhelm, on the following morning, searched for 
 Mignon through the house, he was unable to find her ; he 
 was informed that she had already gone out with Melina, 
 the latter having risen at an early hour to take possession 
 of the wardrobe and of the other apparatus belonging to 
 the theatre. 
 
 After the lapse of a few hours, Wilhelm heard the sound 
 of music before his door. He fancied at first that the 
 harper had returned, but he presently distinguished the 
 notes of a cithern, accompanied by a voice which, as soon as 
 the singing commenced, he recognised to be that of Mignon. 
 Wilhelm opened the door, whereupon the child entered, and 
 sang the song which we have given above. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 131 
 
 The melody and expression delighted our friend extremely, 
 although he was not able precisely to understand the words. 
 He caused her to repeat and to explain the stanzas upon 
 which he wrote them down and translated them into Ger- 
 man. But he could only faintly imitate the original turn of 
 the various ideas. The pure simplicity of the thoughts 
 disappeared as the broken phraseology in which they were 
 expressed was rendered uniform, and as the connection of 
 the various parts was thus restored. Moreover, it was im- 
 possible to convey any idea of the exquisite nature of the 
 melody. 
 
 She commenced each verse in a solemn measured tone, 
 as if she had intended to direct attention to something 
 wonderful, and had some important secret to communicate. 
 At the third line, her voice became lower and fainter 
 the words, " Know'st thou it?" were pronounced with a 
 mysterious thoughtful expression, and the " Thither, oh, 
 thither!" was uttered with an irresistible feeling of longing, 
 and at every repetition of the words " Let us flee!" she 
 changed her intonation. At one time she seemed to entreat 
 and to implore, and at the next to become earnest and per- 
 suasive. After having sung the song a second time, she 
 paused for a moment, and attentively surveying Wilhelm, 
 she asked him, " Know'st thou the land ?" " It must be 
 Italy !" he replied, " but where did you learn the sweet little 
 song?" "Italy!" observed Mignon thoughtfully, "if you 
 are going thither, take me with you, I am too cold here." 
 " Have you ever been there, darling ?" asked Wilhelm but 
 Mignon made no reply, and could not be induced to converse 
 further. 
 
 Melina, who now entered, observing the cithern, seemed 
 pleased that it had been so quickly repaired. The instru- 
 ment had been found amongst the theatrical property, but 
 ^li^non had entreated that she might be allowed to keep it, 
 and had carried it to the old harper. She now displayed a 
 degree of skill in its use, for which no one had previously 
 given her credit. 
 
 Melina had already taken possession of the theatrical 
 wardrobe, with all its appendages, and some members of thr 
 Town Council had promised to obtain permission for him to 
 commence his performances without much loss of time. He 
 
132 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 accordingly returned to his companions with a glad heart 
 and cheerful countenance. He appeared to have been 
 changed into a new personage he had grown mild and 
 polite, and was even engaging and attractive. He said he 
 considered himself happy in being able to provide continuous 
 occupation for his friends, who had hitherto been unem- 
 ployed, and in embarrassed circumstances ; but he felt sorrv 
 that he was not yet able to reward the excellent actors with 
 whom fortune had provided him, according to their merits 
 and talents, as he felt it was indispensable that he should in 
 the first place discharge the debt which he owed to his 
 generous friend, Wilhelm. 
 
 " I cannot express to you," said Melina to Wilhelm, 
 "how deeply I appreciate the value of your friendship which 
 has enabled me to undertake the direction of a theatre. 
 When I first met you I was indeed in a strange predica- 
 ment. You will, doubtless, remember how strongly I then 
 expressed my aversion to the theatre, and yet, after my mar- 
 riage, a love for my wife compelled me to seek for an en- 
 iu'iit, as she expected to derive both pleasure and ap- 
 plause from such an occupation. I was, however, unsuccess- 
 ful that is, I could procure no constant employment but 
 by good fortune I came in contact with some men of 
 business who needed the occasional assistance of persons 
 skilful with the pen, conversant with the French language, 
 and having some knowledge of accounts. Thus I supported 
 myself for a time, and being adequately remunerated, I was 
 enabled to procure many necessary articles of which I stood 
 in need, and had no reason to feel ashamed of my position. 
 .But in a short time my patrons no longer required my ser- 
 vices, they could give me no permanent employment ; and 
 my wife therefore became more and more anxious that I 
 should resume my connection with the stage, though at 
 present her condition is not the most favourable for her own 
 personal display in public. But I trust that the under- 
 taking, which you have enabled me to commence, will form 
 a good beginning for myself and for my family, though 
 whatever be the result, I feel that I shall be indebted to you 
 alone for my future happiness." 
 
 Wilhelm heard these observations with pleasure, and the 
 whole company of performers were sufficiently satisfied with 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 133 
 
 the promises of their manager ; they were secretly overjoyed 
 at their unexpected engagement, and were satisfied at first 
 with a small salary, especially as most of them considered 
 the event itself as a piece of extreme good fortune, which 
 they could hardly have expected to occur. Melina lost no 
 time in availing himself of the temper of his actors he 
 sounded each of them in private, and changed his tone ac- 
 cording to each person's disposition, until, at last, they all 
 agreed to enter into an agreement, without reflecting much 
 upon the nature of the conditions ; calculating that they 
 might, under any circumstances, dissolve their contract at 
 the expiration of a month. 
 
 The terms were now about to be reduced to writing, and 
 Wilhelm was engaged in reflecting upon the performance 
 with which ho should first attract the public, when a courier 
 suddenly arrived and announced to the Stallmeister that his 
 lord and his suite were immediately expected whereupon 
 the horses were ordered out without delay. 
 
 A travelling carriage well packed with luggage soon drove 
 up to the hotel, and two servants sprang nimbly from the 
 box. Philina, according to her custom, was the first to make 
 her appearance, and had taken her post at the door. 
 
 "Who are you?" inquired the Countess, as she entered 
 the hotel. 
 
 " An actress, your Excellency !" was the reply, whilst the 
 artful girl with a modest look and humble countenance, 
 bowed obsequiously and kissed the lady's gown. 
 
 The Count, who observed some other persons standing 
 near, and having learned that they were actors, made some 
 inquiries about the strength of the company, their last place 
 of residence, and the name of the manager. " Had they 
 been a French company," he remarked to his wife, " we 
 might have surprised the Prince with an unexpected plea- 
 sure, and provided him with his favourite entertainment.' 1 
 
 " But it might, perhaps, be as well," observed the Countess, 
 " to engage these people, though unfortunately they are only 
 Germans, to perform at the castle, whilst the Prince remains 
 with us. They cannot be wholly devoid of talent. A 
 theatrical performance is the best possible amusement for a 
 large company, and the Baron will not fail to support them." 
 
 So saying she ascended the stairs, and Melina soon ap- 
 
134 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 peared before them as the manager. " Assemble your com- 
 pany of actors," said the Count, " place them before me, 
 that I may see what is in them. Furnish me, moreover, with 
 a list of the pieces they perform." 
 
 With a profound bow, Melina hastened from the apart- 
 ment, and speedily returned with his company of actors. 
 They advanced in confusion and disorder. Some of them 
 were awkward from their great desire to please, and others 
 were 110 better, from their air of assumed carelessness. 
 Philina paid great respect to the Countess, who evinced the 
 utmost possible condescension* and kindness. The Count, 
 meanwhile, was busily engaged in examining the whole body. 
 
 He questioned each of them about his peculiar qualities, 
 admonished Melina, that he should be particular in confin- 
 ing every one to his own department ; a piece of advice which 
 the manager received with the greatest deference. 
 
 The Count then explained to each of the actors the precise 
 point which he ought particularly to study, how he should 
 seek to improve his action and his attitudes, showing clearly 
 in what points the Germans were usually deficient, and 
 exhibiting such profound knowledge of art, that they all 
 stood around in deep humility, and scarcely dared to breathr 
 in the presence of so brilliant a critic and honourable a 
 patron. 
 
 " Who is that man in the corner ?" inquired the Count, 
 looking at a person who had not yet been presented to him. 
 A lean figure approached, attired in a garb which had seen 
 better days his coat was patched at the elbows, and a sorry 
 wig covered the head of the humble subject of inquiry. 
 
 This man, in whom from the last book of our story, we may 
 recognise the favourite of Philina, was accustomed to act 
 the character of pedants, of schoolmasters and poets, and 
 usually to take those parts where a beating or a ducking 
 was to be endured in the course of the entertainment. It 
 was always his habit to bow in a certain obsequious, ridicu- 
 lous and timid manner, and his faltering mode of speech was 
 in complete unison with the characters he performed', and 
 never failed to excite laughter. He was considered a useful 
 member of the company, being upon all occasions active and 
 ready to oblige. He approached the Count in his own pe- 
 culiar style, saluted him, and answered every inquiry just 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 135 
 
 as he would have done upon the stage. The Count surveyed 
 him for some time with attention and with pleasure, and 
 then addressing the Countess, he exclaimed, " My child, 
 observe this man particularly I could lay a wager that he 
 is an eminent actor at present, or at least that he is capable 
 of becoming one." The man, hereupon, in the excess of 
 his delight made a ridiculous sort of bow, at which the 
 Count could not refrain from laughing, and observed, " He 
 acts his part to perfection this man can, doubtless, perform 
 any character he pleases, and it is a pity that he has not 
 hitherto been better employed." 
 
 An encomium so unusual was distressing to the other 
 actors. Melina, however did not share the general feeling, 
 but rather coincided with the Count. He said with a 
 respectful look, " It is indeed too true, and both he and 
 many of us have long needed the proper appreciation of so 
 excellent a judge as we perceive your Excellency to be." 
 
 " Is the whole company present ? M inquired the Count. 
 
 " Several members are absent," replied the artful Melina, 
 " but if we could calculate upon receiving support we should 
 soon be able to complete our company without going far." 
 
 During this time Philina remarked to the Countess, 
 " There is a very handsome young man up stairs, who will 
 doubtless soon become a first-rate amateur." 
 
 " Why does he not shew himself?" inquired the Countess. 
 
 "I will call him," answered Philina, and she immediately 
 disappeared. 
 
 She found Wilhelm still engaged with Mignon, and she 
 persuaded him to descend. He accompanied her with 
 some reluctance, but curiosit ,' induced him to comply, for 
 having heard that some persons of rank had arrived, he was 
 anxious to know something further about them. When he 
 entered the apartment, his eyes at once encountered the 
 look of the Countess, which was fixed upon him. Philina 
 presented him to the lady whilst the Count in the mean- 
 time was engaged with the rest of the company. Wilhelm 
 bowed respectfully, but it was not without embarrassment 
 that he answered the various inquiries of the charming 
 Countess. Her beauty and youth, her grace and elegance, 
 as well as her accomplished manners, produced the most de- 
 lightful impression upon him, especially as her conversation 
 
136 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 and her looks were somewhat timid and embarrassed. 
 Wilhelm was presented to the Count likewise, but the latter 
 bestowed less attention upon him, but turning to the 
 window where his lady was standing, he appeared to make 
 some inquiries of her. It was easy to perceive that they 
 agreed perfectly in opinion, and that she sought by her 
 earnest entreaties to confirm him in his intentions, whatever 
 they might be. 
 
 He turned soon afterwards to the company and said, " I 
 cannot stay any longer at the present moment, but I will 
 send a friend to you, and if you are moderate in your 
 demands and will exert yourselves to the utmost, I have no 
 objection that you should perform at the castle." 
 
 The whole company testified their joy at this announce- 
 ment, and in particular Philina, who thereupon kissed the 
 hand of the Countess with the greatest emotion. " See, 
 little one!" said the Countess, at the same time patting the 
 cheek of the light-hearted girl, " See, child, you must visit 
 me again, I will keep my promise to you, but in the mrnn- 
 time you must dress yourself better." Philina observed by 
 way of excuse, that she had not much money to spend upon 
 her wardrobe, whereupon the Countess ordered her maid to 
 give her an English bonnet and a silk handkerchief, articles 
 which could be unpacked without difficulty. The Countess 
 herself arranged them on Philina, who continued very 
 cleverly both by her conduct and demeanour to support her 
 claims to a saint-like sinless charactv r. 
 
 The Count took his lady's hand and conducted her down 
 stairs. As she passed the company she saluted them all in 
 the most gracious manner, and turning to Wilhelm, she said 
 to him in the kindest way, " We shall soon meet again." 
 
 The company felt cheered by these happy prospects, and 
 each one allowed free scope to his hopes, to his wishes, and 
 his fancies, suggested the character which he would like to 
 perform, and spoke of the applause which he expected to 
 receive. Melina in the meantime was considering whether he 
 could not manage by means of a few hasty performances to 
 extract a little money from the inhabitants of the town, and 
 so to afford his company an opportunity for practising their 
 parts. Some of the others in the meantime made their way 
 to the kitchen, where they ordered a better dinner than they 
 had lately been accustomed to enjoy. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 137 
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 AFTEE a few days the Baron arrived, and Melina received 
 him with some little trepidation. The Count had announced 
 him as a critic, and the whole company apprehended that he 
 might soon discover their inefficiency, and perceive that they 
 were not a regular company of actors, as in point of fact 
 they were scarcely able to perform a single play properly ; 
 but the fears of the manager and of the others were soon 
 allayed upon finding that the Baron patronized the stage of 
 his native land, and always gave a cordial welcome to every 
 member of the profession. He saluted them with dignity, 
 and expressed the happiness he felt in meeting so unex- 
 pectedly with a German company, in becoming connected 
 with them, and in introducing the native Muses to the castle 
 of his relative. He then drew a manuscript from his pocket, 
 whereupon Melina fancied he was about to read the terms of 
 the contract, but it turned out to be something of a wholly 
 different nature. The Baron requested that they would 
 listen attentively whilst he read to them a play of his own 
 composing, which he was anxious they should perform. 
 They at once formed a circle round him and seemed delighted 
 at the prospect of so easily securing the friendship of so 
 important a patron, but they could not help feeling a simul- 
 taneous shudder at the thickness of the manuscript. They 
 had good reason for their apprehensions, for the play con- 
 sisted of five acts, and every act seemed interminable. 
 
 The hero of the piece was distinguished for his virtue and 
 generosity, but was a misunderstood and persecuted man, 
 finally, however, he proved victorious over his enemies, 
 from whom the strictest poetical justice would have been 
 exacted if he had not pardoned them upon the spot. 
 
 During the rehearsal of this piece, each of the audience 
 found occasion to reflect upon his own particular circum- 
 stances, to recover from his previous depression of spirits, 
 and to experience a sensation of the happiest self-content- 
 ment at the pleasant prospects which were opening in the 
 future. Those who found no characters in the piece adapted 
 for themselves, silently condemned the composition, and con- 
 sidered the Baron as an unsuccessful author, whilst on the 
 other hand, those who discovered an occasional passage 
 
L38 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 which they thought would elicit the applause of an audience, 
 praised it in the most extravagant manner, and thus abund- 
 antly satisfied the vanity of the author. 
 
 The business was soon completed. Melina succeeded in 
 concluding a most profitable engagement with the Baron, 
 which he carefully concealed from the other members of the 
 company. 
 
 In the course of conversation Melina mentioned Wilhelm's 
 name to the Baron, described him as possessing qualities for 
 dramatic composition and talents for succeeding as an actor. 
 The Baron immediately sought Wilhelm's acquaintance as a 
 colleague, and Wilhelm thereupon produced some small 
 pieces of his own composition which with a few other trifles 
 had escaped on that day when he had committed the greater 
 part of his writings to the flames. The Baron praised not 
 only the pieces, but Wilhelm's recitation of them, and he 
 took it for granted that the latter would join the others in 
 their visit to the castle, promising upon his departure that 
 they should all experience the greatest hospitality, enjoy 
 comfortable quarters, good fare, and receive an abundance of 
 applause and of presents, to which Melina added the promise 
 of a small pecuniary donation as pocket money. 
 
 "We may conjecture how the spirits of the company were 
 revived by this visit. All parties were relieved from the ap- 
 prehension of poverty and misfortune, and they were restored 
 to the hope of honour and enjoyment. They lost no time in 
 practically realizing their expectations, and they all from 
 that moment considered it discreditable to keep a single 
 farthing in their purse. 
 
 Wilhelm was in the meantime considering with himself 
 whether he ought not to accompany the others to the castle, 
 and for more than one reason he determined to do so. 
 Melina hoped that this advantageous engagement would 
 enable him to pay off a part of his debt, and Wilhelm whose 
 great object was to study mankind, felt unwilling to lose 
 such an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the great 
 world where he trusted to acquire so much experience of 
 life in general, as well as of himself and of dramatic art. 
 He was unwilling to admit his extreme desire to find him- 
 self once more in company with the beautiful Countess. 
 He wished rather to impress upon himself the great value of 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 139 
 
 becoming acquainted with persons in an exalted sphere of 
 life. His mind was filled with visions of the Count, the 
 Countess, and the Baron, he thought of the ease, the grace, 
 and the propriety of their manners, and when he found him- 
 self alone, he exclaimed with enthusiasm, " Happy, thrice 
 happy they who are raised by their birth above the lower 
 ranks of mankind, who never even in a transient manner ex- 
 perience those difficulties which oppress many good men 
 during the whole course of their lives. From their exalted 
 position their view is extensive and commanding, and each 
 step of their progress in life is easy. From the moment of 
 their birth they embark as it were in a ship, and in the 
 voyage of life which we all have to make, they profit by the 
 favourable breeze, and overcome the adverse gale, more for- 
 tunate than others, who are condemned to waste their 
 strength in swimming, deriving no advantage from the 
 prosperous wind, and who when the storm arises become ex- 
 hausted, and miserably perish. What ease, what a natural 
 grace is theirs, who are born to hereditary fortune ! How 
 secure is mercantile enterprise when established on the basis 
 of a solid capital, when the failure of some chance specula- 
 tions cannot reduce the whole to ruin. Who can better un- 
 derstand the value and the worthlessness of earthly things 
 than he who has enjoyed them from his youth, who can 
 earlier train his spirit to the pursuit of the useful, the neces- 
 sary, and the tine, than he who is able to correct his errors at 
 an age when his strength is fresh to commence a new career." 
 
 In such terms did Wilhelm congratulate the denizens of 
 the higher regions, and not them only, but all who were pri- 
 vileged to approach their circle and to draw comfort from 
 their fountain of refreshment. And he thanked his destiny 
 for the prospect he saw before him of ascending to those 
 spheres. 
 
 In the meantime Melina had taken much trouble to 
 arrange the company according to the talents of each actor, 
 that each might produce his proper effect. But when in 
 pursuance of his own views and of the Count's commands, 
 he had made many exertions for this purpose, he was obliged 
 to feel satisfied when he came to execute his plars. with per- 
 mitting the actors to take those parts for which they deemed 
 themselves best adapted. In general therefore Laertes 
 
140 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 played the lover, Philina the attendant, whilst the two 
 young ladies divided between them the characters of artless 
 tender maidens but the boisterous old man played his part 
 the best. Melina considered himself competent to act the 
 cavalier, whilst his wife to her great disappointment w r as 
 forced to content herself with the character of a young wife 
 or an affectionate mother, and as the modern plays rarely 
 introduce the poet or the pedant in a ridiculous point of view, 
 the Count's favourite usually personated a president or a 
 minister of state, and they were generally represented as 
 knaves and severely handled in the fifth act. Melina also 
 as chamberlain or chamberlain's assistant took pleasure in 
 repeating the absurdities which some worthy German authors 
 introduce into certain plays he was partial to these charac- 
 ters, because they afforded him an opportunity for assuming 
 a fashionable dress, and practising the airs of a courtier, 
 which he fancied he could play with great perfection. 
 
 The company was soon joined by some other actors who 
 arrived from different parts of the neighbourhood, and who 
 were engaged without undergoing a very strict examination, 
 and without having to submit to very burdensome conditions. 
 
 Wilhelm who had been more than once vainly entreated by 
 Melina to perform as an amateur, evinced the greatest interest 
 for the success of the enterprise, without however receiving 
 the slightest recognition of his services from the new 
 director. The latter indeed seemed to imagine that the as- 
 sumption of his new office, imparted to him the necessary 
 qualities for filling it properly. The task of abbreviating the 
 performances seemed one of his most agreeable pursuits, and 
 his skill herein enabled him to reduce any piece to the regular 
 measure of time, without regarding any other consideration. 
 He was warmly supported, the public seemed delighted, 
 and the most refined classes in the town maintained that 
 even the court theatre was not so well managed as theirs. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE time arrived at length when it became necessary to 
 prepare for their journey, and to expect the coaches and 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 141 
 
 carriages which were to convey them to the castle of the 
 Count. Great were the difficulties which arose in arranging 
 hu\v they were to sit, and how the company should be 
 divided. At length, after some trouble, the arranging and 
 dividing was proposed and concluded, but alas, without 
 effect ! At the appointed hour fewer carriages came than 
 had been expected, and they were forced to accommodate 
 themselves as circumstances permitted. The Baron, who 
 followed shortly afterwards on horseback, apologized for the 
 inconvenience, by stating that the whole castle was in con- 
 tusion, as the Prince was to arrive some days before the ap- 
 pointed time, and more guests had already come than had been 
 expected, on this account therefore they might not perhaps 
 be so well lodged as he had intended, a circumstance which 
 overwhelmed him with grief. 
 
 They disposed themselves as well as they could in the 
 carriages, and as the weather was favourable, and the castle 
 only a few leagues distant, the most active of the company 
 dt u Tinined to set out on foot rather than await the return 
 of the vehicles. The cavalcade started with a loud cheer, 
 and for the first time in their lives they had no occasion to 
 tremble for the landlord's bill. The Count's castle arose in 
 their imagination like a fairy palace. They were in their 
 own opinion the happiest beings in the world, and each in- 
 dividual fancied that this lucky day was the commencement 
 of a long a?ra of happiness, prosperity, and honour. 
 
 A deluge of rain which fell most unexpectedly was un- 
 able to dissipate these blissful contemplations, but when the 
 storm became still more violent, and seemed likely to con- 
 tinue, many of the company exhibited some symptoms of 
 dissatisfaction. The night was coming on, and no object 
 could be more welcome to them than the Count's palace, 
 which beamed upon them from the summit of a hill at some 
 distance, brilliantly illuminated in every story, so that all 
 the windows could readily be counted. 
 
 Upon approaching nearer, they found that the side build- 
 ings w r ere illuminated also, and each individual began to con- 
 sider which chamber might possibly be destined for himself, 
 but most of them were modestly contented with the prospect 
 of occupying an apartment in the garrets or in one of the 
 wings of the mansion. 
 
142 WILHELM METSTER'S 
 
 They now drove through the vinage and passed the hotel. 
 Here Wilhelm ordered the carriage to stop, as he wished to 
 descend, but the landlord assured him that he could not 
 afford the smallest accommodation. He said that the unex- 
 pected arrival of a large number of guests had obliged the 
 Count to engage the entire hotel, and the doors of the apart- 
 ments had been already inscribed in chalk with the names of 
 the intended occupants. Wilhelm was therefore compelled 
 reluctantly to proceed to the castle with the rest of the 
 company. 
 
 Arrived there, they beheld a number of cooks busily en- 
 gaged round a kitchen fire in one of the side buildings, and 
 the sight revived their drooping spirits. A troop of servants 
 carrying lights now appeared upon the steps of the main 
 building, and the hearts of our worthy travellers glowed 
 witli satisfaction at the 'cheerful prospect. But who can 
 describe their disappointment at finding themselves received 
 with the rudest imprecations! The servants scolded the 
 drivers for having come to this entrance. The latter were then 
 directed to return and drive to the old castle, as there was 
 no room there for such guests. The unkindness of this un- 
 expected reception was increased by the jeering and derision 
 of the servants, but the actors themsrlves smiled at their 
 folly at having set out in the rain on so fruitless an expedi- 
 tion. It still poured in torrents. No star appeared in the 
 heavens, and the company was now driven along a rough un- 
 even road, between two high walls, to the old castle, which 
 was situated at some distance behind the new one, and had 
 remained uninhabited since the decease of the Count's 
 father, by whom the latter had been built. The carriages 
 drew up partly in the court-yard and partly under a long 
 arched gateway, and the drivers who had been engaged in 
 the neighbouring village, unharnessed their horses and rode 
 away. 
 
 As no one appeared to welcome the travellers, they 
 alighted and called out and searched about, but in vain. 
 All was darkness and silence around. The wind blew in 
 gusts through the high gate, and the old towers and courts 
 looked grey and desolate, and were dimly distinguished in 
 the surrounding gloom. The actors shivered with cold, 
 the women trembled with fear, the children cried, and the 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 143 
 
 impatience of all parties momently increased, for this sudden 
 and unexpected revolution in their happiness had completely 
 disconcerted them. 
 
 In the constant expectation that some person would make 
 his appearance to liberate them, and continually mistaking 
 the sound of the rain and the howling of the storm for the 
 approaching footstep of the castle steward, they remained 
 for a considerable time anxious and inactive, for the idea 
 never occurred to any of them to proceed to the new castle 
 and implore assistance from compassionate souls. They were 
 moreovtT unable to imagine what had become of their friend 
 the Baron, and they were for all these reasons reduced to a 
 most pitiable condition. 
 
 At length some individuals actually arrived and they 
 were recognized by their voices as the pedestrians of the 
 party who had lingered behind upon the road. They 
 brought the information that the Baron had fallen from his 
 horse and had hurt his foot severely, and stated that they 
 themselves upon making inquiries at the castle had been 
 rudely directed to their present quarters. 
 
 The whole party was soon in a state of the greatest per- 
 plexity, they consulted together as to the best course of pro- 
 ceeding, but they could decide upon nothing. At length 
 they caught the glimmer of a lantern at a distance, which 
 revived their spirits, but all hopes of effecting a speedy 
 deliverance quickly vanished when the light approached them 
 nearer. The lantern was borne by a servant w r ho acted as 
 guide to their friend the Stallmeister, and this latter per- 
 sonage, as soon as he had joined the party, inquired anxiously 
 for Mademoiselle Philina. She immediately stepped out from 
 amongst the others, and the Stallmeister thereupon begged 
 urgently that he might conduct her to the new castle where 
 comfortable accommodation had been prepared for her with 
 the servants of the Countess. She did not waste much time 
 in reflection, but accepted the offer gladly, seized his arm, 
 and giving her trunk in charge to her companions, she was 
 in the act of departing, when the others placed themselves 
 in the way, begging, imploring, and beseeching the Stall- 
 meister so urgently, that he in order to make his escape with 
 Philina, promised everything they asked, and assured them 
 that in a short time the castle should be thrown open, and 
 
WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 they should all be provided with comfortable quarters. Soon 
 afterwards they saw the lantern disappear, and for a long 
 time they looked in vain for another light, but it came at 
 last after much delay and grumbling on their parts, and it 
 inspired them with fresh hope and comfort. 
 
 An old servant opened the gate of the castle, and they 
 all rushed forward with impatience. They now became 
 anxious for the safety of their luggage, each being eager to 
 have his own trunks uncorded and placed beside him. The 
 greater part of it was like their own persons, thoroughly 
 saturated with rain. As they had only one candle, their 
 proceedings were necessarily tedious. They pushed against 
 each other, they stumbled, and they fell. They begged for 
 more light and that a fire might be provided. The servant 
 listened in silence, and after much hesitation placing down 
 his own lantern he disappeared and returned no more. 
 
 They now proceeded to examine the house, every door of 
 which was wide open. Huge fire places, hangings of tapestry, 
 and inlaid floors afforded evidence of former grandeur, but 
 there were no remains of other furniture to be found, neither 
 table nor chairs, nor looking-glass, only immense empty 
 bedsteads from which everything useful and ornamental had 
 been removed. The wet trunks and travelling bags were now 
 converted into seats, some of the weary wayfarers contented 
 themselves with lying on the floor, but Wilhelm had seated 
 himself upon the stairs, and Mignon reclined upon his 
 knees. The child was restless, and in reply to Wilhelm' s 
 questions, answered, "lam hungry.'* He had nothing with 
 which to appease the wants of the child, his companions 
 had consumed all their provisions, and he was obliged to 
 leave the little creature without food. During the whole 
 adventure he had remained silently buried in thought. He 
 felt dissatisfied with himself, and sorry that he had not ad- 
 hered to his first determination to alight at the hotel, even 
 if he had been obliged to put up with the veriest garret. 
 
 All the others acted as they felt inclined. Some of them 
 heaped together a quantity of old wood in one of the 
 enormous chimneys, and they set fire to it amid cheering 
 and loud huzzas. But they were sadly disappointed in their 
 hopes of drying and warming themselves in this manner, for 
 as the fireplace had been built' for mere ornament, it was 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. li~> 
 
 closed at the top, and therefore the smoke rushed quickly 
 back and filled the entire room. The dry wood crackled 
 and burst into flames, but the flames were driven back, 
 and as the draught of wind through the broken window 
 gave them an unsteady direction, all parties trembled for 
 the safety of the castle, and they were therefore obliged 
 to disperse the burning faggots, and to quench them with 
 their feet. The smoke by this means increased intolerably, 
 and the situation of our friends was rendered well nigh 
 desperate. 
 
 AVilhelm had taken refuge from the smoke in a room at 
 some distance, whither Mignon soon followed him, accom- 
 panied by a well-dressed servant, who carried in his hand a 
 large, brilliant double-lighted lantern. He turned to Wil- 
 helin and respectfully offered him a tempting supply of fruit 
 and confectionery upon a plate of the most beautiful por- 
 celain. "The young lady sends you this," he said, "and 
 requests that you will join her party. She is very comfort- 
 able," added the domestic with a knowing look, "and she 
 wishes to share her enjoyment with her friends." 
 
 Wilhelm could not have anticipated such a mark of atten- 
 tion, for ever since the adventure on the stone seat, he had 
 J. Philina with marked contempt, and he had so firmly 
 made up his mind to hold no intercourse with her for the 
 future, that he was in the act of refusing her dainty presents, 
 when an imploring look from Mignon induced him to accept 
 them. He therefore thanked her for them in the name of 
 the child but at the same time he utterly declined the iavi- 
 tation. He requested the servant to have some consideration 
 for the wants of the company, and he made some inquiries 
 for the Baron. The latter it seems was confined to his bed, 
 but he had given orders, as the servant had been informed, 
 that the wants of the company should be attended to. 
 
 The servant then took his departure, leaving one of his 
 lights behind for Wilhelm's accommodation. In the absence 
 of a candlestick, he was obliged to fasten it to the window- 
 stool, and thus in his contemplations he could see at least 
 that the four walls of his apartment were illuminated. In a 
 short time preparations were completed for leading our 
 travellers to repose. By degrees candles were brought, 
 though without snuffers, then a few chairs, and after the 
 
 L 
 
146 TVILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 interval of about an hour some bed clothes arrived, and 
 then the pillows, but everything was thoroughly drenched 
 with rain. Finally, when it was long past midnight, the 
 straw beds and mattresses appeared, -which if they had been 
 produced at an earlier hour, would have been cordially 
 welcomed. 
 
 During these preparations, something to eat and to drink 
 had also been provided. It was despatched without much 
 criticism, though it was only a collection of disorderly frag- 
 ments, and afforded no very strong proof of the respect which 
 was entertained for our guests. 
 
 CHAPTEE IY. 
 
 THE distress and inconvenience of the night were much 
 increased by the frolics and mischievous tricks of some mem- 
 bers of the company. They woke and annoyed each other, 
 and indulged in all kinds of practical jokes. On the follow- 
 ing morning they uttered loud complaints against their 
 friend the Baron for having imposed upon them, and for 
 having so completely misrepresented the order, and 
 comfort which they were to enjoy. But at an early hour 
 to their great astonishment and delight the Count himself 
 arrived, attended by a few servants, and made inquiries into 
 their circumstances. He was much distressed upon learning 
 how indifferently they had fared, and the Baron who limped 
 along with the assistance of a servant, blamed the house- 
 steward for disobeying his commands, and declared that the 
 latter had merited the most exemplary punishment. 
 
 The Count at once commanded that everything should be 
 instantly arranged for the utmost convenience of his guests. 
 In the meantime some young officers arrived, who sought the 
 acquaintance of the actresses, and the Count calling the 
 whole company before him, addressed each of them by name, 
 and as he introduced some jokes into his conversation, all 
 parties seemed delighted with the condescension of their 
 gracious Lord. At length Wilhelin appeared in his proper 
 turn, holding Mignon by the hand. He apologized for his 
 freedom in appearing before the Count, but the latter as- 
 sured him that his visit was exr>ected. 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. !U7 
 
 A gentleman, who stood near the Count, and who was 
 said to be an officer, although he wore no uniform, entered 
 into close conversation with Wilhelm, and attracted general 
 attention. His large blue eyes shone with great clearness 
 from beneath his noble brows, his light brown hair was 
 thrown carelessly back, his middle stature and whole ap- 
 pearance gave indication of a bold, firm, and decisive cha~ 
 r. His questions were earnest, and he seemed perfectly 
 to understand the subject of his inquiries. 
 
 AVilhelm asked the Baron who he was, but the latter was 
 not able to say much in his favour. He held the rank of 
 ]\Iajor, was a special favourite with the Prince, managed all 
 his private affairs, and was regarded as his right hand ; indeed 
 there was reason to believe that he was the Prince's natural 
 son. He had filled the post of ambassador in England, 
 France, and Italy, where lie had always been distingui- 
 and had thus become conceited. He believed himself to be 
 thoroughly acquainted with German literature, and was 
 accustomed to indulge in all sorts of jests upon it. The 
 Baron, avoided his society, and he advised Wilhelm to do the 
 -. as he never failed to prove a disagreeable acquaintance. 
 He was called Jarno, though nobody well understood what 
 was meant by such a name. 
 
 Wilhelin knew not what to reply to all this, for notwith- 
 standing that there was something cold and disagreeable in 
 the manner of the stranger, he felt a sort of secret liking 
 for him. 
 
 The company was now accommodated in the castle, and 
 Melina gave strict orders that they should conduct them- 
 - with decorum, that the women should reside in sepa- 
 rate apartments, and that they should all devote their indi- 
 vidual attention to the drama, and to the study of their par- 
 ticular characters. He drew up a list of orders and regu- 
 lations, arranged under different heads, which he fastened 
 upon all the doors. The precise amount of every fine was- 
 settled, and every transgressor was ordered to pay the same 
 into a common fund. 
 
 But these regulations were but little regarded. Young 
 officers came in and went out, joking rudely with the 
 actresses, deriding the actors, and destroying the whole- 
 system of police before it had time to take root. The people 
 
148 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 chased each other through the apartments, changed clotheSj 
 and dressed in various disguises. Melina, who was stern at 
 first towards some of the offenders, became exasperated at 
 their incessant insolence, and when the Count sent for him to 
 survey the place where he wished the theatre to be erected, 
 the confusion increased tenfold. The young men practised 
 all sorts of coarse buffoonery, which was made worse by the 
 suggestions of the actors, and the old castle looked in fact as 
 if it had been abandoned to the rioting of an infuriate mob, 
 and the scandal did not cease till the hour of dinner arrived. 
 
 The Count had conducted Melina into a large apartment, 
 which though it formed part of the old castle, was connected 
 by a gallery with the new building, and seemed well adapted 
 for the construction of a small theatre. Here the clever pro- 
 prietor of the mansion explained the manner in which he 
 wished everything to be arranged. 
 
 The work now commenced with the greatest vigour. The 
 stage was erected and ornamented with such decorations as 
 the company had brought along with them, and the w^hole 
 was completed by some skilful workmen of the Count's. 
 "Wilhelm took part in the preparations, assisted in the ar- 
 rangement of the perspective, sketched the scenery, and was 
 extremely anxious that everything should be correctly done. 
 The Count who was frequently present, expressed great satis- 
 faction w r ith all the arrangements, occasionally directing the 
 operations in person, and affording proofs of his intimate ac- 
 quaintance with every branch of the art. 
 
 A zealous practice of the rehearsals was now commenced, 
 and for this undertaking they would have found space and 
 leisure enough, if they had not been interrupted by the con- 
 stant interference of strangers. For new visitors arrived 
 at the castle daily, and they were all anxious in turn to in- 
 spect the preparations of the company. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 some days past, the Baron had amused Wilhelm with 
 the prospect of receiving a regular introduction to the 
 Countess. "I have already," he said, "told this charming 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 149 
 
 lady so much about your talented and sentimental composi- 
 tions, that she is quite anxious to see you, and to hear some 
 of them recited. Hold yourself in readiness therefore to 
 wait upon her at the shortest notice, as you may depend 
 upon receiving an invitation the first morning the Countess 
 shall find herself disengaged." He thereupon selected an 
 afterpiece which he recommended him to read over, in order 
 that he might completely win her favour. The lady, he as- 
 sured him, regretted extremely that he had arrived at so in- 
 convenient a time, and that he had been compelled to share 
 with the rest of the company, the many inconveniences of the 
 old castle. 
 
 Wilhelm thereupon carefully prepared the piece with 
 which he was to make his entrance into the great world. 
 " Hitherto," he observed, "you have laboured in silence for 
 yourself, satisfied with the approbation of a few chosen 
 friends. You have long despaired of your own talents, and 
 are not yet free from doubt whether you have chosen a 
 proper career, and whether your ability equals your passion 
 for the stage. In the presence of such correct judges, in 
 the closet where no illusion enters, the attempt must be 
 more hazardous than elsewhere, and yet I would not willingly 
 shrink from the effort to enjoy this triumph also, and to 
 enlarge the prospect of my hopes for the future." 
 
 He thereupon examined several pieces carefully, perused 
 them with attention, corrected them here and there, recited 
 them aloud, in order to perfect himself in the proper mode 
 of delivery and expression, and then selecting the play which 
 pleased him best, and from which he hoped to derive the 
 greatest honour, he put it into his pocket one morning, upon 
 receiving an invitation to appear before the Countess. 
 
 The Baron had assured him that no one would be 
 present save one female companion. When he entered the 
 
 apartment, the Baroness von C received him with quiet 
 
 suavity, expressed her gratification at making his acquaint- 
 ance, and introduced him to the Countess, who was at that 
 moment in the hands of the hairdresser. The Countess 
 herself received him with friendly words and gracious looks, 
 but Wilhelm was mortified to observe Philina kneeling at 
 her side and practising all sorts of follies. " The sweet 
 child,'* said the Baroness, " has been singing for us. Finish 
 
150 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 the ballad," she continued, turning to Philina, " which you 
 had commenced, we should not like to lose it." 
 
 Wilhelm listened to the conclusion of the song with the 
 greatest patience, whilst he wished sincerely that the hair- 
 dresser should depart before the commencement of his reci- 
 tation. He was invited to take a cup of chocolate, and the 
 Baroness herself handed him a biscuit. But he could not 
 enjoy his repast. He felt too anxious to commence his reci- 
 tations to the beautiful Countess, in hopes that he might 
 interest her and give her pleasure. Moreover, he found 
 Philina in his way as she had not unfrequeutly proved a 
 troublesome attendant at his recitals. He watched the pro- 
 gress of the hairdresser with impatience, hoping that every 
 moment would witness the completion of his task. 
 
 The Count now entered, and gave an account of the guests 
 whose arrival was to-day expected, talked over the arrange- 
 ments which had been made for the day's amusement and of 
 various other household matters. Upon taking his departure 
 several officers, who were about to leave the castle at an early 
 hour, requested permission to pay their respects to the 
 Countess. The chamberlain having made his appearance, 
 the gentlemen were admitted. 
 
 The Baroness, meanwhile, exerted herself to entertain 
 our friend and paid him much attention, he accepted the 
 proffered civilities with great respect, though not without 
 betraying considerable absence of mind. More than once 
 he felt in his pocket for his manuscript, and hoped that every 
 moment would terminate his suspense. He was on the 
 point of losing all patience, when a man-milliner was an- 
 nounced, who commenced opening his bags and band-boxes, 
 without mercy, and pressing his various goods upon the com- 
 pany with an earnestness peculiar to that race of beings. 
 
 The company now increased. The Baroness looked at 
 Wilhelm, and addressed the Countess in an undertone. He 
 noticed the circumstance, though he could not understand 
 its meaning. But the mystery was explained, when after an 
 hour of painful profitless delay, he reached his home, and 
 found in his pocket a handsome portfolio of foreign manu- 
 facture. It had been secretly placed there by the Baroness, 
 and soon afterwards the Countess's little black servant ar- 
 rived and delivered a parcel containing an embroidered waist, 
 coat, but did not say distinctly by whom it had been sent. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 15 1 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MINGLED feelings of gratitude and vexation destroyed the 
 remainder of the day, but towards evening, Wilhelm once 
 more found employment, as Melina informed him that the 
 Count had spoken of a little play which he wished to have 
 acted in honour of the Prince upon the day of his arrival. 
 It was his wish, that the high qualities of so noble a hero, 
 and so great a friend to mankind, should be personified and 
 introduced into a Drama. It was his wish, that all these 
 Virtues should appear together, should recite the praises of 
 their patron, and finally crown his bust with a garland of 
 flowers and laurels, whilst at the same time, a transparency 
 should exhibit his illuminated name, in conjunction with the 
 princely hat. The Count had commissioned Melina to 
 superintend the versification, as well as the general arrange- 
 ment of the piece, and the latter had expressed a hope, that 
 Wilhelm, to whom such matters were easy, would contribute 
 his assistance. 
 
 " How !" exclaimed "Wilhelm, with emotion, " can we 
 produce nothing better than portraits, illuminated names and 
 allegorical figures, in honour of a Prince, who, in my opinion, 
 is entitled to a much higher tribute of distinction ? How 
 can it possibly gratify a sensible man to see himself set up 
 in effigy, and to behold his name shining through a sheet of 
 oiled paper ? I fear much, that in the present state of our 
 wardrobe our allegories may give rise to sundry equivocal 
 jests. I can have no objection that you should compose a 
 play, or order one to be prepared, but 1 beg that I may not 
 be asked to interfere in the matter." 
 
 Melina excused himself by observing, that the Count had 
 mentioned the subject quite casually, and that he would 
 doubtless leave the arrangements of the piece entirely to 
 themselves. " With all my heart then," replied Wilhelm, 
 " I will contribute my assistance for the gratification of so 
 illustrious a family, and my Muse has never had a more 
 delightful task than to celebrate, however inadequately, the 
 praises of a Prince, who is entitled to the highest honour. I 
 will think the matter over, and, perhaps, 1 may be able so to 
 manage our little company as to produce some decided 
 effect." 
 
152 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 From this moment Wilhelm set zealously to work. Before 
 he closed his eyes he had arranged every thing in proper 
 order. Early on the following morning his plan was ready, 
 the scenes were sketched out, and even some of the principal 
 passages and songs were actually composed and reduced to 
 writing. 
 
 "Wilhelm then hastened to the Baron, in order to lay his 
 plan before him, and to consult him upon certain points. 
 The Baron was delighted, but nevertheless evinced no little 
 surprise, for he had heard the Count on the previous evening 
 allude to a piece of a wholly different nature, which he had 
 ordered to be prepared and versified. 
 
 " It is not probable, I think," said Wilhelm, " that the 
 Count intended that the piece should be prepared precisely 
 as he proposed it to Melina. I can scarcely be wrong in 
 presuming, that he merely wished to indicate to us the 
 direction we should follow. Amateurs and critics just shew 
 the artist what they desire, and then commit to him the 
 execution of the work." 
 
 " Not at all," replied the Baron, " the Count insists, that 
 the piece shall be composed precisely as he has directed. 
 Your play, it is true, corresponds in some slight degree with 
 his idea, but if we mean to succeed, in diverting the Count 
 from his own project, we must have recourse to the ladies for 
 that purpose. The Baroness is especially skilful in such 
 matters. The point to consider is this, whether she likes 
 the plan so well as to undertake the task, for if so she will 
 infallibly succeed." 
 
 " But under any circumstance," observed Wilhelm, "we 
 shall require the assistance of the ladies, for neither our 
 company nor our wardrobe are sufficient without them. I 
 can procure the attendance of some pretty children, who 
 frequent the house, and who belong to the families of the 
 servants." 
 
 He now requested the Baron to acquaint the ladies with 
 his plan. The Baron soon returned, and stated, that the 
 ladies wished to speak with Wilhelm personally. It was 
 accordingly arranged that, in the evening, when the gentle- 
 men should be engaged at play, which it was expected, would 
 be deeper than usual, on account of the arrival of a certain 
 General, the ladies should feign indisposition, and retire to 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 153 
 
 I 
 
 their private apartments, and that Wilhelm should then be 
 introduced by a secret staircase, and unfold the nature of 
 his plan. This air of mystery would clothe the adventure 
 with an unspeakable charm, and the Baroness felt as happy 
 as a child, at the prospect of a rendezvous, especially as it 
 was all arranged in secret, and undertaken in opposition to 
 the wishes of the Count. 
 
 Towards evening, at the appointed hour, Wilhelm was 
 sent for, and cautiously introduced. The manner in which 
 the Baroness permitted him to enjoy this private interview 
 in her little cabinet, reminded him for a moment of former 
 happy moments, and of bygone scenes. She led him to the 
 chamber of the Countess, and they commenced to ask ques- 
 tions, and to seek for information. Wilhelm unfolded his 
 plan with great warmth and eagerness, the ladies were quite 
 enchanted with it, and our readers will thi'ivfore permit us 
 to make them acquainted briefly with its outline. 
 
 The play was to commence with a dance of some children 
 in a country scene. Each dancer had to wheel round in turn, 
 and to take the place of his predecessor. The dancing \\ as 
 to be varied with other amusements, till finally the whole 
 party dancing together in a circle, were to join in a merry 
 song. At this moment the harper was to appear with 
 Mignon, and thus the public curiosity becoming excited, the 
 country people should collect together. The old harper was 
 thereupon to sing various songs in honour of peace, repose 
 and joy, and Mignon was then to wind up the whole enter- 
 tainment with the egg-dance. 
 
 These harmless delights were now to be interrupted bv 
 sounds of martial music, and the company were to be sur- 
 prised by a troop of soldiers. The men, thereupon, defend 
 themselves and are overcome, the women fly, but are over- 
 ^aken and brought back. A general tumult ensues, and 
 the whole scene is in disorder, when a stranger enters 
 (about whose person and precise qualities the poet has not 
 yet made up his mind) and conveying the intelligence that 
 the General is at hand, succeeds in restoring order. The 
 character of the Hero is now painted in the brightest colours, 
 security is established amid the din of arms, and violence 
 and tumult are restrained. A public festival is proclaimed 
 in honour of their generous deliverer. 
 
154< WILHELM METSTEE'S 
 
 The ladies were quite pleased with the plan, but they con- 
 sidered the introduction of some allegorical scene to be 
 indispensable to satisfy the Count. The Baron suggested, 
 that the leader of the soldiers should be represented as the 
 Genius of Discord and Violence, and that Minerva should 
 be introduced to bind him in fetters, to announce the arrival 
 of the Hero, and to celebrate his praise. The Baroness 
 undertook the task of assuring the Count, that the piece was 
 the very same which he had proposed, with some few altera- 
 tions, but she positively insisted, that at the conclusion of 
 the performance, the bust, the illuminated name, and. the 
 princely hat should be introduced, as otherwise her inter- 
 ference would be in vain. 
 
 Wilhelm, who had already conceived in fancy how glo- 
 riously he would celebrate the praises of his Hero by the 
 mouth of Minerva, after long resistance yielded up the point : 
 but he felt that he had been delightfully subdued. The 
 beautiful eyes of the Countess, and her captivating manners 
 would easily have constrained him to abandon his duty as a 
 poet, to lose sight of the neatest and most interesting plot, 
 to forget the very unity of his composition, and all the most 
 indispensable details. But as a member of society, his con- 
 science had to sustain a still harder trial, when, upon the 
 distribution of the characters, the ladies insisted positively 
 that he should take a part. 
 
 To Laertes had been assigned the character of the violent 
 God of war. Wilhelm was to be the leader of the country 
 people, and he had to recite some very pithy sentimental 
 verses. After having resisted for a time, he felt compelled 
 at length to yield, indeed he was left wholly without excuse, 
 for the Baroness assured him, that their theatre at the castle 
 was of a strictly private nature, and that she herself would 
 willingly perform, if a suitable occasion should offer. The 
 ladies now took leave of Wilhelm in the kindest manner. 
 The Baroness assured him that he was an incomparable 
 youth, and accompanying him to the private staircase, she 
 wished him good night with a soft pressure of the hand. 
 
APPKENTICESHIP. 155 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 ENCOURAGED by the lively interest which the ladies took 
 in the proceedings, the play now assumed a distinct form, as 
 the mere act of describing its plan had rendered Wilhelm's 
 own conception of it clearer. He passed the greater part of 
 the night and of the following morning in carefully arranging 
 the versification of the dialogue and songs. 
 
 He had already made some progress when he received 
 an invitation to proceed to the new castle, and was in- 
 formed, that the family, who were at breakfast, wished to 
 speak with him. Upon entering the apartment the Baroness 
 advanced towards nim, and pretending to bid him good 
 morning, she whispered to him privately, " Say nothing of 
 your play, unless you are questioned about it." 
 
 "I understand/* exclaimed the Count, addressing him, 
 " that you are most industrious, and that you are engaged 
 in composing my play, which is to be represented in honour 
 of the Prince. I quite approve of your introducing the cha- 
 racter of Minerva, and I was just now considering how the 
 Goddess should be clothed, in order that we may not offend 
 against the proprieties of costume. I have, therefore, com- 
 manded all the books to be brought from my library, in 
 which her figure is represented/ 1 
 
 At this very moment some servants entered the apart- 
 ment, carrying several huge baskets filled with books of 
 every description. 
 
 Montfaucon, collections of antique statues, gems and coins, 
 and every species of mythological writing, were all examined 
 in turn, and the engravings compared. But even this was 
 not enough. The accurate memory of the Count recalled 
 every picture of a Minerva which was to be found in a title 
 page, a vignette, or in any other place. Book after book 
 was now brought in succession from the library, till the 
 Count saw himself at length enthroned amid a countless 
 collection of volumes, and finding that he could recollect no 
 other figure of Minerva, he exclaimed with a smile, " I would 
 lay a wager now that there is not a Minerva left in the whole 
 library, and I suppose it is the first time that a collection of 
 books has been deprived of the protection of their Patron- 
 goddess/* 
 
156 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 The whole company smiled at the idea, and Jarno, who 
 had all along been inciting the Count to send for more 
 books, laughed quite immoderately. 
 
 " And now," said the Count, addressing "Wilhelm, "it is 
 of some importance to know which Goddess you really mean, 
 Minerva or Pallas ? The Goddess of War, or the Patroness 
 of the Arts ?" 
 
 " Might it not be more prudent, your Excellency," an- 
 swered Wilhelm, " if we were not clearly to express our- 
 selves upon this point, and as the Goddess plays a double 
 part in mythology, to exhibit her here in a two-fold cha- 
 racter. She introduces a warrior, but only for the purpose 
 of appeasing the people ; she honours a hero by exalting his 
 humanity, she subdues violence, and restores peace and hap- 
 piness to a nation." 
 
 The Baroness, who trembled lest Wilhelm might betray him- 
 self, now pushed forward the Countess's milliner, to explain 
 the best mode of arranging a costume after the manner of the 
 antique. This person, who was skilful in making masquerade 
 dresses, at once settled the question, and as Madame Melina, 
 notwithstanding her advanced pregnancy was to assume the 
 character of the celestial virgin, the milliner was ordered to 
 take her measure, and the Countess, somewhat reluctantly, 
 specified to her servants the precise garments which were to 
 be taken from her wardrobe, and cut up for the purpose. 
 
 At this juncture the Baroness contrived cleverly to call 
 Wilhelm aside, when she assured him, that she had provided 
 every thing else that was requisite. She had sent the 
 musician to him, who had the direction of the Count's band, 
 that he might either compose the necessary pieces, or select 
 appropriate melodies from the general stock. Everything 
 was now proceeding prosperously, the Count ceased to 
 inquire about the piece, and employed himself chiefly with 
 the transparency, with which he was determined to astonish 
 the spectators at the conclusion of the performance. His 
 own power of invention, and the skill of his confectioner, 
 succeeded in producing a very effective design. During his 
 travels he had witnessed the very best exhibitions of the 
 kind, he had, moreover, examined a host of engravings and 
 drawings, and he possessed considerable taste in all such 
 matters. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 157 
 
 Wilhelm in the mean time concluded his play, distri- 
 buted the various parts, and made a selection of his own, 
 and the musician, who was versed in dancing, undertook the 
 preparation of a ballet, and all the arrangements promised 
 to prove successful. 
 
 But an unexpected obstacle arose which threatened to 
 prove fatal to the intended performance. Wilhelm had 
 expected that Mignon's egg-dance would produce a striking 
 eliect, and he was much astonished therefore, when the 
 child, with her accustomed dignity of manner, refused to 
 perform, assuring him that she had resolved never to appear 
 again upon the stage. He sought to influence her by every 
 species of expostulation, and only ceased, when, with bitter 
 tears, the child flung herself at his feet exclaiming, " Dearest 
 father! abstain also from the stage yourself." But he 
 paid no attention to the remark, and employed himself in 
 studying by what other contrivance he could render the 
 performance interesting. 
 
 Philina who had been chosen to act as one of the peasant 
 girls, as well as to sini; a solo, and to lead the chorus, felt 
 quite delighted with the arrangement. In every respect 
 her wishes were fully gratified. She had an apartment to 
 herself, she was constantly in the society of the Countess, 
 whom she amused with her frivolities, and from whom she 
 was perpetually receiving presents. 
 
 A new dress had been expressly made for her to wear in 
 the play, and as she was of a light and imitative nature, her 
 late introduction to ladies' society had enabled her to ob- 
 serve such traits in their conduct as it would become her to 
 adopt, and her manners had therefore lately assumed an air 
 of refinement. 
 
 The attentions of herfriend the Stallmeister increased rather 
 than diminished, and as her society was coveted by the offi- 
 , and she was now breathing a new atmosphere, she deter- 
 mined henceforth to play the part of a prude, and to conduct 
 herself with some attention to the rules of discretion and 
 propriety. Cool and penetrating as she was, in the course 
 of a week she understood the weaknesses of all around her, 
 and if she could have acted with any firmness of purpose, 
 she might have made her fortune. But in this instance, as 
 in every other, she employed her advantages for her mere 
 
158 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 amusement, to earn a happy day, and to practise her im- 
 pertinences whenever she found that she could do so with 
 impunity. 
 
 The several parts having been learnt, a rehearsal of the 
 play was now ordered, at which the Count was expected to 
 be present, and the Countess began to feel much anxiety for 
 its success. The Baroness summoned Wilhelm to her pri- 
 vately, and the nearer the hour approached the greater was 
 the embarrassment of all parties, for of the Count's original 
 conception scarcely one solitary fragment had been retained. 
 Jarno, who now arrived, was informed of the dilemma. He 
 laughed heartily at the general perplexity, but promised to 
 help the ladies by every means in his power. " It will be 
 unfortunate/' he observed, "if you cannot escape from this 
 embarrassment, but at all events I will be on the watch to 
 render you assistance." The Baroness informed him that 
 she had already recited the entire play to the Count, but in 
 detached and separate portions, she thought therefore he 
 would be prepared for each individual passage, though he 
 would undoubtedly expect that the whole should correspond 
 with his original idea: "But," she added, "I will sit near 
 him at the rehearsal this evening, and endeavour to distract 
 his attention. I have ordered the confectioner to make the 
 decorations with which the piece is to conclude, as splendid 
 as possible, but they are not quite ready." 
 
 " In a certain Court, that I am acquainted with," ob- 
 served Jarno, " we want a few zealous and prudent friends like 
 you. However if your plans do not succeed this evening, give 
 me a signal, and I will take out the Count and not allow him 
 to return before the entrance of Minerva, and then the illumi- 
 nations will soon come to our relief. For some days past, I 
 have had something important to communicate to him, rela- 
 tive to his cousin, which for good reasons, I have hitherto 
 postponed. This I know will distract his attention, in a 
 manner not the most agreeable." 
 
 Some engagements of business prevented the Count from 
 being present at the commencement of the rehearsal, the 
 Baroness amused him subsequently, and Jarno's assistance 
 was not needed. For as the Count was fully employed in 
 making remarks as well as in suggesting alterations and 
 improvements, his mind was thus completely employed, and 
 
APPRENTICESHIP 159 
 
 as Madame Melina entered soon afterwards, and spoke in a 
 wav that pleased him, and as moreover the transparency 
 succeeded admirably, he was perfectly content. But when 
 all was over and the card-playing was about to commence, 
 the difference appeared to strike him, and he began to in- 
 quire whether the piece wes really his own invention. A 
 hint from the Baroness soon brought Jarno to the rescue, 
 the evening passed over pleasantly, the news of the Prince's 
 arrival was confirmed ; some of the people rode out to see 
 his body-guard encamp in the neighbourhood ; the house 
 became full of noise and confusion, and our actors, who had 
 never been very diligently attended by the unwilling servants, 
 resumed their former quarters in the old castle, where without 
 attracting any particular attention, they passed their time 
 in expectations and in practising their parts. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 AT length the Prince arrived. The Generals with their 
 staff officers and numerous suite, who came at the same time, 
 and the crowds of people who were attracted by business or 
 pleasure, made the castle resemble a bee-hive which is about 
 to swarm. Every one pressed forward to obtain a sight of 
 so distinguished a Prince ; every one admired his kindness 
 and condescension, and every one expressed his admiration 
 at observing that he who was the greatest hero and general 
 of the day, should be at the same time, the most refined and 
 accomplished courtier. 
 
 All the inhabitants of the castle were directed by the 
 Count to be in their places upon the arrival of the Prince. 
 No actor was allowed to shew himself, for it had been deter- 
 mined that the Prince should be surprised by the spectacle 
 prepared for his reception, and therefore, when at evening he 
 entered the large hall, which had been brilliantly illuminated 
 and decorated with tapestry of the preceding century, he 
 was not at all prepared for a theatrical entertainment, still 
 less for a drama in honour of himself. Every thing went off 
 admirably, and at the end of the performance, the actors 
 were presented to the Prince ; who, in the most friendly 
 
160 WILHELM MEISTEK'B 
 
 manner, managed to put some question or to make some kind 
 observation to each. Wilhelm, as the author, received par- 
 ticular attention, and upon him a full portion of applause was 
 generously bestowed. 
 
 After the play was concluded, no one made any further 
 inquiry about it. In a few days it seemed as if it had never 
 been performed, save that Jarno in his occasional conversa- 
 tions with Wilhelm, praised it warmly, but always added, 
 " It is a pity that you should play with hollow nuts, to win 
 a stake of hollow nuts." For several days these words made 
 an impression upon Wilhelm' s mind ; he was at a loss to ex- 
 plain them, or to know what to infer from them. 
 
 In the mean time the company continued to act every 
 night, and exerted their best abilities to win the favour of 
 the spectators. They were encouraged by applauses which 
 they did not deserve, and in their old castle they verily be- 
 lieved that they were the real attraction of the crowd, that 
 their performances had drawn together the multitude of 
 strangers ; and in short, that they were the central point 
 around which every thing moved and revolved. 
 
 But to his great vexation, Wilhelm thought the very re- 
 verse of all this. For though the Prince had most conscien- 
 tiously sat out the first representation from the beginning 
 to the end, yet he gradually found that he could dispense 
 with such amusements. And all those persons whose con- 
 versation Wilhrlm had ever found to be most instructive, 
 with Jarno at their head, now spent but a few moments in 
 the theatre, passing the rest of their time in the ante-room, 
 apparently engaged in play, or in business conversations. 
 
 It distressed Wilhelm grievously that his persevering 
 exertions should fail to win their deserved and wished for 
 reward. In selecting the plays, in copying the parts, in 
 attending rehearsals, and in other numerous details, he zea- 
 lously assisted Meliiia, who being secretly aware of his own 
 incompetence, allowed Wilhelm to take the management. 
 The latter committed his own parts accurately to memory, 
 and performed them with earnestness and feeling and with 
 as much propriety as his limited training and practice allowed. 
 The unceasing interest which the Baron took in their per- 
 formances was perfectly satisfactory to the rest of the com- 
 pany. He assured them that their acting was most effective, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 161 
 
 i 
 
 particularly when they performed a play of his composition, 
 He only lamented that the Prince should display so strong 
 a partiality for the French theatre, while on the other hand, a 
 part of his people, amongst whom Jarno was the principal, 
 passionately preferred the monstrosities of the English 
 stage. 
 
 But if our actors failed to be adequately appreciated for 
 their artistic qualities, the audience of both sexes were not 
 wholly indifferent to the charms of their persons. We have 
 already observed, that from the very commencement the 
 actresses had attracted the attentions of the young officers, 
 but in process of time they were even more fortunate, and 
 succeeded in making far more important conquests. But we 
 shall be silent on such subjects, only observing, that Wilhelm 
 daily became more and more interesting to the Countess, and 
 that a secret partiality for her began gradually to spring up 
 within his bosom. She was unable to take her eyes from 
 him during his performances, and he seemed to act, arid to 
 recite with all his thoughts intently fixed on her. Merely to 
 behold each other afforded them unutterable delight, a feeling 
 to which they yielded up their guileless souls, without en- 
 couraging a bolder wish, or reflecting upon any ulterior 
 consequence. 
 
 As across the river which divides them, two hostile out- 
 posts will converse together pleasantly and happily, without 
 reflecting upon the war in which their countries are engaged, 
 so across the wide chasm of birth and station did the 
 Countess exchange expressive looks with Wilhelm, and both 
 believed that they might innocently indulge such emotions. 
 
 The Baroness meanwhile had made acquaintance with 
 Laertes, who, being a lively, jovial youth, amused her 
 extremely, and much as he disliked woman's society, had no 
 disinclination for a passing adventure, and, in truth, in this 
 instance he would have been ensnared in spite of his resolu- 
 tion, by the courtesy and attraction of the Baroness, if the 
 Baron by chance had not rendered him a lucky or unlucky 
 service, by making him somewhat better acquainted with the 
 disposition of the lady. 
 
 Upon one occasion when Laertes praised her loudly, and 
 professed that he preferred her beyond all others of her sex, 
 the Baron answered with a smile, " I see plainly how it is, 
 
 M 
 
162 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 our fair friend has now another victim ready for her stall." 
 This unfortunate figure which bore too distinct a reference to 
 the dangerous endearments of Circe pained Laertes beyond 
 measure, and it was not without vexation that he heard the 
 Baron continue to express himself with severity. 
 
 " Every stranger thinks he is the first who* has won her 
 flattering attentions, but he sadly mistakes, for we have all 
 travelled the same road once. Man, youth, or boy, whoever 
 he may be, must, for a time, become devoted to her, depend 
 upon her favours, and pine for her affection." 
 
 The happy being who has been admitted into the garden of 
 an enchantress, and revels in the enjoyment of all the delights 
 of an artificial spring season, can experience nothing more 
 repulsive than to hear the grunt of one of his transformed 
 predecessors at the very moment when his ear is enraptured 
 with the sweet song of the nightingale. 
 
 Laertes blushed deeply upon making this discovery, that 
 his vanity should have again induced him to entertain a 
 favourable opinion of any woman whatsoever. He there- 
 fore abandoned her society, and attached himself to the 
 Stall meister, with whom he now perpetually fenced and 
 hunted, frequenting the rehearsals and representations, as if 
 they were matters of no importance. 
 
 The Count and Countess would occasionally invite some 
 of the company to their apartments, and upon such occasions 
 the latter never failed to envy the unmerited good fortune of 
 Philina. The Count, too, would sometimes detain his fa- 
 vourite, the Pedant, for hours together at his toilette. He 
 had become, by degrees, a well-dressed individual, and was 
 at length completely equipped and provided even to a watch 
 and snuff-box. 
 
 Sometimes, especially after dinner, the company were 
 summoned into the presence of their distinguished patrons. 
 They were proud of so high an honour, but failed to observe, 
 that upon the same occasions the dogs were brought in 
 by the huntsmen, and the horses were led out for display 
 in the courtyard of the castle. 
 
 "Wilhelm had been advised warmly to praise the Prince's 
 favourite author Racine, in order thereby to win a good 
 opinion for himself. He accordingly availed himself of an 
 opportunity for this purpose, when, upon a certain afternoon 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 1G3 
 
 he had received an invitation with some others. The Prince 
 inquired whether he had carefully studied the works of the 
 great French dramatists, to which Wilhelm eagerly responded 
 in the affirmative. He did not observe that the Prince, 
 without waiting for his reply, turned immediately away to 
 address some other person. But Wilhelm, interrupting him, 
 prevented this intention, and assured the Prince that he had 
 the highest esteem for the French theatre, and that he had 
 read the works of the great masters with the warmest 
 delight and had heard with real pleasure that his Highness 
 never failed to render justice to the incomparable talents of 
 Eacine. " I can easily imagine," he continued, " how persons 
 of high rank and lofty station must prize a poet, who has so 
 well and truly painted the circumstances of their eminent 
 position. Corneille drew the characters of great men, so to 
 speak, Eacine the characters of exalted personages. When 
 1 read his works, 1 never fail to think of the poet, residing 
 in a brilliant palace, with a mighty monarch always before 
 him, associating with the nobles, and penetrating the dark 
 secrets of human nature, as they are concealed behind the 
 rich and gaudy tapestry of courts. In studying Brilan- 
 nicus and Berenice, it seems as if I were myself a resident 
 at the court of monarchs, as if I understood all the great 
 and trivial concerns which belong to the dwellings of those 
 earthly deities, the keen vision of the great French writer 
 becomes mine, I behold kings revered by a mighty nation, 
 courtiers envied by thousands of their fellows, in their natural 
 forms, with all their faults and failings. The anecdote that 
 Racine died of a broken heart, because Lewis the fourteenth 
 refused to receive him and treated him with displeasure, 
 affords the key to all his writings, and it seems to me impos- 
 sible that a poet of such incomparable talents, whose very 
 existence and death depended upon the favour of his king, 
 could do otherwise than compose works entitled to the praise 
 of a Monarch and a Prince." 
 
 Jarno was standing near, and he listened to our friend 
 with astonishment. The Prince, who had made no replv, 
 but merely signified his assent by an approving smile, turned 
 aside, although Wilhelm, who seemed unaware that it was a 
 breach of etiquette under present circumstances to continue 
 the discourse, and to exhaust his subject, would gladly have 
 pursued his observations, and convinced the Prince that he 
 
164 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 had read his favourite author with no less profit than 
 delight. 
 
 " Have you never read one of Shakspeare's plays ?" in- 
 quired Jarno, leading him aside. 
 
 "No," answered Wilhelm, "since the time when they 
 became popular in Germany, I have been little connected 
 with the stage, and I know not whether I ought to con- 
 gratulate myself now that my former taste and occupation 
 has been renewed. But from what I have heard of those 
 productions, I have no desire to become acquainted with 
 such extraordinary exaggerations, which are in utter defiance 
 of all probability and propriety." 
 
 " I should advise you, however, to make a trial of them, it 
 cannot injure you to see even what is wonderful with your 
 own eyes. I will lend you a volume or two, and you cannot 
 employ your time better than by giving up every other 
 pursuit, and in the solitude of your own chamber looking 
 into the magic lantern of that unknown world. It is a pity 
 for you to waste your time in dressing out these human 
 apes, and teaching dogs to dance. I make but one condition, 
 that you do not condemn the form of the plays, the rest I 
 leave to your own good judgment and feeling." 
 
 The horses were at the door, and Jarno mounted with 
 some cavaliers, to enjoy the delights of hunting. Wilhelm 
 surveyed him with sadness. He would have gladly entered 
 into further conversation with this man, who had already, 
 although in a somewhat harsh manner, opened to him a store 
 of new ideas, ideas too of which he had stood in need. 
 
 It often happens, that when the powers, or talents, or 
 ideas of a man are being developed, he finds himself in a 
 perplexity, from which a sensible friend might easily deliver 
 him. He is like a traveller who falls into the water, when 
 close to the inn at which he means to rest : should any one 
 then seize him, and draw him out, all is right, at the cost 
 perhaps of a good wetting, but if on the other hand, he is 
 left to himself, and he should escape at all, it will probably 
 be at the wrong side of the river, and he has then to make a 
 wide and weary circuit to reach his destination. 
 
 "Wilhelm began now to suspect, that things in the world 
 went differently from what he had imagined. He witnessed 
 daily the earnest and imposing life of great and distinguished 
 persons, and felt astonished at the ease and grace which they 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 165 
 
 imparted to it. An army upon the march, a princely hero 
 at its head, a host of united warriors, and a multitude of 
 thronging worshippers inspired and filled his imagination. 
 In this state of mind he received the promised volumes, and 
 in a short time, as we may readily imagine, the torrent of 
 that mighty genius carried him along, and bore him to a 
 boundless ocean when he soon lost and forgot himself. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THE Baron's connexion with the actors had undergone 
 many changes during their residence in the castle. At first 
 there had been wonderful unanimity upon both sides, for 
 \\hen the Baron for the first time saw one of his own com- 
 positions with which he had sometimes honoured a private 
 theatre, in the hands of real actors, and properly repre- 
 sented, he became highly delighted, purchased many little 
 trifles for the actresses', and presented the actors with sundry 
 bottles of champagne. They in return exerted themselves 
 in the performance of his pieces, and Wilhelm spared no 
 pains in committing accurately to memory the splendid 
 speeches of the magnanimous hero, whose part it was his 
 invariable lot to perform. 
 
 But, notwithstanding all this, many misunderstandings 
 gradually arose. The Baron's partiality to certain actors 
 became daily more remarkable, and this circumstance natu- 
 rally annoyed the rest of the company. He gave exclusive 
 promotion to his favourites, and by this means introduced 
 a general spirit of jealousy and disunion. Melina, who had 
 never been very famous at contending with difficulties, found 
 himself now in the greatest perplexity. The favourites ac- 
 cepted the Baron's praises without evincing the slightest 
 gratitude, whilst those who were neglected shewed their 
 vexation in a thousand ways, and contrived to render the 
 situation of that patron whom they had formerly so much 
 admired, most disagreeable to himself. Their malicious 
 delight was very much gratified by a certain poem from an 
 anonymous author which was about this time circulated 
 through the castle. Much good-humoured merriment had 
 been occasioned even previously to this, by the connexion of 
 the Baron with the company. Little anecdotes had been cir- 
 
166 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 culated about him, certain occurrences had received material 
 additions, and had been narrated in a more attractive and 
 ridiculous form. At length a rumour went abroad that a 
 species of professional rivalry existed between him and some 
 of the actors who aspired to the honour of authorship, and 
 this rumour originated the poem of which we have spoken, 
 and which we here subjoin. 
 
 My Lord, poor devil though I be, 
 
 I envy you your happy lot, 
 Your fine estates, your high degree, 
 
 Your castle and all else you've got. 
 Your father's house, your place at Court, 
 Your wealth, your game, and right to sport. 
 
 And a poor luckless devil like me, 
 
 My Lord, I see you envy too, 
 Because dame Nature, kind and free, 
 
 lias proved my friend so good and true, 
 Has made me light of heart and head 
 And poor though not with brains of lead. 
 
 Suppose then, good, my Lord, that we 
 
 Preserve our separate honours yet, 
 That you your father's offspring be, 
 
 And I my mother's favoured pet, 
 Neither of hate or grief the sport, 
 
 Content and glad if each one chooses, 
 I claiming no reward at Court, 
 
 And you no place among the Muses. 
 
 Opinions were much divided upon the merits of this poem, 
 of which copies in almost illegible handwriting were in 
 general circulation. No person entertained even a suspicion 
 of the author, but when Wilhelm observed the malicious 
 delight w r hich many of the company felt at the occurrence, 
 he expressed his sentiments very warmly. 
 
 " We Germans," he observed, " deserve that our Muses 
 should suffer in the contempt they have so long sustained, 
 since we are unwilling to appreciate men of rank when from 
 various motives they dedicate themselves to literature. 
 Foreign nations have taught us that birth, rank, and fortune 
 are quite consistent with genius and taste, for the names of 
 many noblemen are on the list of their most distinguished 
 authors. In Germany it has been a wonder hitherto that 
 a man of birth should devote himself to literature, and few 
 celebrated names have sought to become more renowned by 
 their love of art and science, but many nevertheless have 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 167 
 
 risen out of darkness and have shone like unknown stars 
 in the horizon. But it will not always happen so, and if I 
 am not greatly mistaken, at the present moment the first 
 classes in the nation are commencing to devote their talents 
 to the task of contending for the fairest garlands of literature. 
 Nothing therefore can be more distressing to me than to 
 see the citizen sneer at the nobleman who loves the society 
 of the Muses, and even men of rank with thoughtless levity 
 deterring their own equals from a career where honour and 
 happiness are the portion of all." 
 
 The concluding remark seemed to be intended for the 
 Count, as AVilhelm had understood that he had expressed 
 approbation of the poem. In fact the Count was fond of 
 jesting with the Baron, in his own peculiar way, and was 
 glad to avail himself of such an opportunity of annoying 
 him. Each one entertained his own suspicions about the 
 author of the poem, and the Count, whom no one could excel 
 in acuteness, entertained a suspicion, to the correctness of 
 which he was soon ready to swear. The poem he thought 
 must be the production of his Pedant, who was a shrewd 
 fellow enough, and in whom he had for some time noticed 
 the existence of a certain poetical talent. In order to enjoy 
 a rare entertainment, therefore, he summoned the Pedant 
 one morning into his presence, and obliged him to recite the 
 poem in his own peculiar style before the Countess, the 
 Baroness and Jarno, for which he earned their praise and 
 applause as well as a present, and he cleverly managed to 
 evade the inquiries of the Count, whether he did not also 
 possess some other poems of an earlier date. By this means 
 the Pedant obtained the reputation of an author and a wit, and 
 in the eyes of the Baron's friends of a satirist and ill-natured 
 man. But from that moment the Count applauded him 
 most zealously, no matter how badly he might act, till at 
 length the creature grew perfectly conceited and silly, and 
 began to think that he also might be promoted to a private 
 apartment in the castle, like Philina. 
 
 If he had accomplished this plan without delay he would 
 have avoided a great misfortune. For soon afterwards as he 
 was returning one evening at a late hour to the old castle, 
 feeling his way along the narrow lane, he was suddenly way- 
 laid and seized, by some unknown persons, whilst some others 
 set upon him and beat him so unmercifully, that they left 
 
168 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 him half dead, and he could with difficulty crawl home to 
 his companions. The latter, though they professed to be 
 very angry, felt secretly rejoiced at the occurrence and could 
 scarcely restrain their open laughter at seeing him so well 
 chastised, and his new brown coat bedaubed and dusty and 
 as white as if he had been working for a whole day in a flour 
 mill. 
 
 The Count when he was informed of the occurrence burst 
 into a violent rage. He considered it as a most heinous 
 oifence, called it a breach of the Burgfried or Castle Peace, 
 and required that the most strict investigation should be set 
 on foot by his own judge. It was considered that the 
 sufferer's white and dusty coat would afford the most con- 
 vincing evidence upon the inquiry, and accordingly every 
 individual in the castle in any way concerned with flour or 
 meal or dust of any kind was brought up for examination, 
 but in vain. 
 
 The Baron protested upon his honour that jokes of such 
 a kind displeased him exceedingly, and declared that although 
 the conduct of the Count had been most unfriendly, yet he 
 had forgotten it, and that he had not the smallest share in 
 the misfortune which had happened to the poet or satirist, 
 or whatever they might please to call him. 
 
 But the bustle of the strangers and the general commotion 
 of the house soon caused the whole affair to be forgotten, 
 and the unfortunate Pedant had to pay a dear penalty for 
 the pleasure he had enjoyed of strutting for a short time in 
 borrowed plumage. 
 
 The company of actors w r ho now played regularly every 
 evening, and on the whole were well received, had com- 
 menced, in proportion as they were well treated, to grow 
 more and more exorbitant in their demands. They com- 
 plained that their fare, no less than their attendance and 
 their apartments, was quite insufficient, and they entreated 
 their patron the Baron to see that they were more abun- 
 dantly provided with all the accommodations and enjoyments 
 he had promised them. By degrees their complaints grew 
 louder and the exertions of their friend to satisfy them more 
 and more ineffectual. 
 
 Wilhelm now appeared seldom in public, except during 
 rehearsals and performances. Secluded in one of the most 
 private apartments, where Mignon and the harper were 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 169 
 
 alone permitted to see him, he lived and moved in his 
 Shaksperean world, without sympathy or feeling for any 
 thing beyond it. 
 
 Stories are told of enchanters who by their magical 
 incantations have summoned a countless multitude of 
 unearthly forms into their chamber. Their conjurations are 
 so powerful that a crowd of spirits quickly fill their dwelling, 
 and thronging within the limits of their narrow circle, they 
 soar above their master's head, ever increasing, and revolving 
 in perpetual transformation. Every corner is full and every 
 crevice occupied. Little embryo imps expand and giant 
 monsters dwindle into nothing. Unfortunately the magician 
 has forgotten the word by which the crowd of spirits may be 
 dispersed. 
 
 Thus sat Wilhelm in his solitude, and with uncomprehended 
 power a thousand emotions and feelings were stirred to life/] 
 within him, of which previously he could have formed no idea// 
 or conception. Nothing could seduce him from his happi-v 
 ness, and he was sorely distressed if any one approached id 
 trouble him with news of what was happening in the world. 
 
 He scarcely heeded the information which was brought to 
 him one day, that a punishment was about to be inflicted in 
 the courtyard of the castle that a boy was to be flogged, upon 
 suspicion of having committed a burglary, and who because 
 he was dressed in the coat of a wig-maker it was thought 
 might possibly have taken part in the late attack upon the 
 Baron's favourite. The youth denied the charge vehemently, 
 and it was impossible therefore to punish him expressly for 
 that oftence, but they had determined to chastise him as a 
 vagabond and let him go, for he had been found lurking in 
 the neighbourhood for several days, had passed his nights in 
 the mills, and had lately planted a ladder against the garden 
 wall by which he had descended to the other side. 
 
 Wilhelm considered the whole aifair as very unimportant, 
 until Mignon entering his apartment hastily informed him 
 that the prisoner was no other than Frederich, who since 
 the occurrence with the Stallmeister had disappeared and 
 had not been heard of by the company. 
 
 Being much interested in the boy's behalf, Wilhelm rose 
 without delay, and found that preparations for the punish- 
 ment were already proceeding in the courtyard of the castle. 
 For the Count liked solemnity even in such matters. The 
 
170 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 boy was brought forward. "Wilhelm advanced and begged 
 for delay as be was acquainted with the prisoner, and might 
 perhaps adduce something in his favour. He found some 
 difficulty in procuring attention to his representations, but 
 at length he was permitted to speak with the youth in 
 private. Frederich protested that he was completely 
 ignorant of the ill-treatment which the Pedant had received 
 that he had certainly been lurking about the castle, and 
 had stolen in by night in order to visit Philina, whose 
 apartment he had discovered, and to which he would 
 undoubtedly have obtained entrance, if he had not been 
 detected in the attempt. 
 
 Wilhelm, who for the credit of the company, was anxious 
 to conceal this statement, hastened to the Stallmeister, and 
 implored him to employ his knowledge of the world and of 
 mankind, to arrange the whole affair and to protect the boy. 
 
 This inventive genius, with "Wilhelm's assistance, con- 
 trived a little story to the effect that the boy had been a 
 member of the company, that he had ran away, but was 
 anxious to return and to be received again amongst them. 
 He had therefore determined to visit some of his former 
 friends in the night time that he might entreat their assist- 
 ance. Evidence was offered of his good conduct in other 
 respects, the ladies interfered in his behalf, and he was 
 pardoned. 
 
 Wilhelm received him, and Frederich thus became the 
 third member of the extraordinary family which our friend 
 had lately adopted as his own. The old Harper and Mignon 
 received the returning prodigal kindly, and all three deter- 
 mined from that moment to serve their friend and patron 
 with zeal and devotion, and to contribute in every possible 
 way to his happiness. 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 PHILINA succeeded now in ingratiating herself more and 
 more with the ladies. When they were alone, she directed 
 her conversation to the men who frequented the Prince's 
 residence, and Wilhelm was not by any means the last or 
 the most insignificant person who engaged their attention. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 17 1 
 
 It had not escaped the observation of the cunning girl that 
 he had made a deep impression upon the heart of the Count- 
 ess, she therefore frequently made him the subject of conver- 
 sation, relating what she knew or did not know concerning 
 him, but she was careful never to mention any thing which 
 could be interpreted to his disadvantage. On the contrary, 
 she praised his nobleness of mind, his generosity, and above 
 all his gallantry and deferential conduct towards the ladies. 
 She was, moreover, cautious in answering any inquiries 
 about him, and when the Baroness observed the increasing 
 partiality of her beautiful friend for him, she evinced great 
 satisfaction at the discovery. Her own intrigues with several 
 men, and particularly of late with Jarno, had not escaped 
 the notice of the Countess, whose pure soul could not re- 
 gard such levities without censure and silent disapprobation. 
 
 Thus the Baroness, no less than Philina, became deeply 
 interested in cementing the intimacy between Wilhelm and 
 the Countess, and Philina hoped that she might yet be able 
 to turn things to her own advantage, and succeed in regain- 
 ing the favour of the youth, whose affections she had lost. 
 
 One day when the Count had joined the rest of the party 
 in a hunting excursion, and their return was not expected till 
 the following day, the Baroness resolved upon playing a 
 frolic which was completely in her style. She was fond of 
 assuming disguises and of surprising her companions in the 
 dress sometimes of a peasant girl, and at others in the 
 garb of a page or a huntsman. In fact she resembled a 
 fairy, who was present every where, and appeared at the very 
 time when she was least expected. Her joy was extreme 
 when she couid succeed in waiting upon the company, or 
 otherwise join in their amusements without being detected, 
 and great was her delight in eventually disclosing herself. 
 Towards evening she sent for Wilhelm, and invited him to 
 her chamber, but when the appointed hour arrived she 
 found herself otherwise engaged, and accordingly she de- 
 puted Philina to receive him. 
 
 Great was Wilhelm's astonishment upon making his 
 appearance, to find the apartment occupied not by the honour- 
 able Baroness but by the giddy Philina. She received him 
 with respectful dignity, an accomplishment which she had 
 lately practised, and in this manner she compelled him to be 
 courteous in return 
 
172 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 She commenced by rallying him in general terms upon 
 the good fortune which invariably attended him, and which 
 she could not avoid remarking, had now brought him hither. 
 Then she adverted in a delicate manner to his conduct to- 
 wards her which had so deeply afflicted her, but she chiefly 
 blamed and accused herself and confessed, that she had to a 
 great degree merited his neglect ; she then with much appa- 
 rent candour entered into a detail of what she termed her 
 previous situation, and added, that she would despise herself 
 if she were incapable of improvement, or if she could not 
 render herself worthy of his friendship. 
 
 "Wilhelrn was astonished at her words. His experience of 
 the world was too limited to perceive that the most frivolous 
 and good-for-nothing persons most frequently accuse them- 
 selves in bitter terms, acknowledging and lamenting their 
 faults with candour, even when they are wholly destitute of 
 resolution to turn from the evil courses which their irresis- 
 tible nature has compelled them to pursue. He found it 
 impossible, therefore, to be severe towards the pretty 
 sinner; so they entered into conversation together, and he 
 soon heard from her the plan of the strange disguise with 
 which the Baroness intended to surprise her friend the 
 Countess. 
 
 Wilhelm however could not approve of the project, and 
 did not conceal his sentiments from Philina, but the entrance 
 of the Baroness herself at the very moment, left him no 
 time for reflection, and she forced him to accompany her, 
 assuring him that the proper moment had arrived. 
 
 It was now dark. (She led him into the Count's dressing 
 apartment, where she made him change his own coat for the 
 Count's silk morning gown and put on his cap with the red 
 tassel, she then took him into the Cabinet, seated him in the 
 large arm chair, gave him a book, lighted the argand lamp, 
 told him how he was to act, and instructed him in the part 
 he was to play. 
 
 She said the Countess should now be informed that her 
 husband had unexpectedly arrived and was in an extremely 
 bad humour. She would of course come without delay, 
 pace several times up and down the apartment, and at length 
 seating herself upon the arm of the chair, would place her 
 arm upon his shoulder, and address a few words to him. 
 He was to play the husband's part as long and as well as he 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 173 
 
 was able, and if at length he should be compelled to dis- 
 cover himself, he was to be polite, complimentary, and 
 gallant. 
 
 Attired in this strange disguise, Wilhelm became a little 
 restless. The mere proposal had surprised him, the sudden 
 execution of the project afforded him no time for deliberation. 
 Scarcely, however, had the Baroness retired from the apart- 
 ment, than he at once perceived the danger of the part 
 which he had undertaken to fill. He did not deny that the 
 beauty, as well as the youth and grace of the Countess had 
 made an impression upon him, but as he was averse by 
 nature to empty gallantry and his principles forbade all 
 thoughts of a more serious enterprise, he was reduced at 
 the moment to a state of no small perplexity. The fear of 
 displeasing the Countess or of pleasing her too much made 
 him equally uneasy. 
 
 Every female charm which had ever produced an impres- 
 sion upon him now rose once more before his imagination. 
 -Mariana appeared in her white morning gown and solicited 
 his remembrance. The charms of Philina, her beautiful 
 hair and her insinuating endearments had once more 
 been rendered attractive by her late presence. But 
 all this was as nothing and retreated as it were behind a 
 distant veil, when he thought of the noble, blooming Coun- 
 tess, whose arm he was in a few minutes to feel upon his 
 neck, and whose innocent caresses he would be invited to 
 return. 
 
 He certainly could not foresee what strange accident 
 was to free him from this perplexity. We may therefore con- 
 jecture his astonishment or rather his terror when the door 
 opened behind him, and at the first stolen look in the glass, 
 he saw the Count distinctly enter with a light in his hand. 
 He continued but for a very short time in doubt as to the 
 course he should pursue, whether he should sit still or rise, 
 fly, confess, deny, or ask forgiveness. The Count was stand- 
 ing motionless in the doorway, but he soon retired and 
 closed the door gently after him. At the same moment the 
 Baroness entered the apartment by a side door, extinguished 
 the lamp, dragged Wilhelm from his chair and led him with 
 her into the Cabinet. He took off his dressing gown with- 
 out delay and restored it to its former place. The Baroness 
 
174 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 took Wilhelm's own coat beneath her arm and hurried him 
 through various chambers, passages and corridors until at 
 length when she had recovered her breath she stated, that 
 having hastened to the Countess to communicate the fictitious 
 information of her husband's arrival, she replied, " I 
 know it already, and I wonder what can have happened, 
 I saw him this instant riding in at the side gate." Upon 
 hearing this the Baroness had rushed to the Count's 
 apartment in the utmost alarm to communicate with 
 Wilhelm. 
 
 "Unfortunately," exclaimed the latter, "you have arrived 
 too late. The Count has already been in the apartment 
 and beheld me sitting there." 
 
 " Did he recognize you ?" 
 
 " I do not know. He looked at me in the glass, as I 
 looked at him, but before I could decide whether it was an 
 apparition or the Count himself, he retired and closed the 
 door behind him." 
 
 The perplexity of the Baroness increased when a servant 
 came to call her, and stated that the Count was at that 
 moment with his lady. With anxious heart she went and 
 found that though the Count was silent and reserved, ho 
 was kinder and more gentle than usual. She knew not what 
 to think. The conversation turned upon the incidents of 
 the chase and of the accident which had occasioned his un- 
 expected return. The topic was soon exhausted. The 
 Count became silent, and the Baroness was greatly astonished 
 when he inquired for Wilhelm, and expressed a wish that he 
 should be sent for, in order that he might read something. 
 
 Wilhelm who by this time had resumed his own apparel, 
 and had recovered himself in the apartment of the Baroness, 
 obeyed the summons with some trepidation. The Count 
 handed him a book, from which with much hesitation he 
 read a rather romantic tale. His voice, however, was un- 
 certain and trembling, but this well corresponded with the 
 nature of the story. Several times the Count gave friendly 
 tokens of his approbation, praised the excellence of the read- 
 ing, and finally signified that Wilhelm might retire. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 175 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 WILHELM had scarcely finished a few of Shakspeare's 
 plays, before he became so much affected by them that 
 he could not continue their perusal. His whole soul 
 was in a state of excitement. He thereupon sought an 
 opportunity to speak with Jarno, and he could not adequately 
 express his gratitude for the pleasure to which he had in- 
 troduced him. 
 
 "I foresaw plainly," observed Jarno, " that you could not 
 remain indifferent to the excellence of the most extraordinary 
 and wonderful of all writers." 
 
 "Yes," exclaimed Wilhelm, "I do not think that any 
 book, any man, or any occurrence of life has ever produced 
 so strong an effect upon me, as the precious works to which 
 by your kindness I have been introduced. They appear to 
 be the productions of a heavenly genius who has descended 
 to the abodes of men, to render them, by the gentlest les- 
 sons, acquainted with themselves. They are not mere 
 poems. One might think during their perusal that he stood 
 before the opened, solemn books of destiny, through which 
 the whirlwind of impassioned life is breathing, whilst the 
 leaves are agitated to and fro. 1 have been so astonished and 
 overcome by the strength and tenderness, the power and 
 repose of these works, that I long for the time when I shall 
 be able to continue their perusal." 
 
 " Bravo," said Jarno, holding out his hand to Wilhelm, 
 and pressing his in return, 4< I knew it would be so, and the 
 results which I anticipate are sure to follow." 
 
 " I wish," observed "NVilhelm, u that I could explain to 
 you all my present sensations. Every dream which I have 
 ever indulged respecting man and his destiny, every idea I 
 have ever entertained upon such subjects within my own 
 secret soul, I find unfolded and complete in the compositions 
 of Shakspeare. It appears as if he had unravelled to us the 
 mystery of all our enigmas, even though we cannot explain 
 wherein lies the actual word of solution. His men seem to 
 be human beings, and yet they are not so. These wonderful 
 and complicated creations of nature act like watches that 
 are enclosed in crystal dial plates and cases, which whilst 
 
176 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 they indicate the course of the hours, display the machinery 
 and wheels by which they are set in motion. The few 
 glances which I have cast into the world of Shakspeare 
 ~\ impel me irresistibly to march forward with hasty strides 
 * into the world of active life, to mingle in the flood of destiny 
 which courses through it, and finally, to fill a few goblets 
 from the deep tide of true nature, and distribute them 
 from the stage to the thirsty inhabitants of my native 
 land." 
 
 " I rejoice at the disposition of mind in which I now be- 
 hold you," said Jarno, placing his hand at the same time 
 upon the shoulder of the excited youth. " Do not abandon 
 your resolution of commencing an active life, and lose no 
 time in taking advantage of the good years which are still 
 yours. If I can serve you I will do so with all my heart. I 
 have not yet inquired how you have found your way into a 
 company for which you are unfitted both by birth and edu- 
 cation. But I both hope and perceive that you are anxious 
 to leave it. I am alike ignorant of your family and of your 
 domestic circumstances, and therefore take heed of the con- 
 fidence you may repose in me. But I may say this much. 
 The times of war in which we live may occasion rapid 
 changes of fortune, and if you feel disposed to dedicate your 
 strength and talents to our service, not shrinking from labour 
 and inevitable danger, I can find an opportunity to establish 
 you in a position which you will never subsequently repent 
 having filled." Wilhelm found it impossible to express his 
 thanks adequately, and felt disposed to make his friend and 
 benefactor acquainted with the history of his whole life. 
 
 During this conversation they had penetrated far into the 
 park, and had reached the road which traversed it. Jarno 
 paused for a moment, and then observed, " Consider my 
 proposal, make up your mind, let me have an answer in a 
 few days, and place confidence in me. I assure you, I can- 
 not comprehend how you can induce yourself to associate 
 with such people. I have often felt both pained and 
 annoyed that for the sake of earning a sorry subsistence you 
 should have become attached to this company of wandering 
 mountebanks." 
 
 He had not finished speaking when an officer rode up 
 hastily, followed by a groom leading a spare horse. Jarno 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 177 
 
 saluted him in a loud and familiar tone. The officer leaped 
 from his saddle, and they both embraced and conversed 
 together, whilst Wilhelm, somewhat amazed at the con- 
 cluding words of his warlike friend, stood bj in silence. 
 Jarno examined some papers which the stranger had 
 handed to him, whilst the latter going up to Wilhelm, 
 offered him his hand, and exclaimed with emphasis, " I find 
 you in honourable company, follow the counsel of a friend, 
 and at the same time fulfil the wish of one who though a 
 stranger, is deeply interested in your welfare." So saying, 
 he embraced Wilhelm and pressed him cordially to his 
 heart. Jarno approached at the same instant, and observed 
 to the stranger, " It will be better that I should accompany 
 you, you can then receive the necessarv instructions, and 
 ride forward before nightfall." Upon this they both leapt 
 into their saddles and left our astonished friend to his own 
 silent contemplations. 
 
 The last words of Jarno were still echoing in Wilhelm's 
 ears. He could not bear to hear the two beings who had 
 so undesignedly won his sympathies so ill spoken of by a 
 man whom he so highly honoured. The strange embrace of 
 the officer, with whom he was unacquainted, made but a 
 slight impression upon him, though it had engaged his 
 attention for a moment, but Jarno's words had smote him 
 to the heart. He felt deeply wounded, and now, as he re- 
 turned homewards, he reproached himself keenly for having 
 mistaken or forgotten the unfeeling cold-heartedness of 
 Jarno, which was so evidently pourtrayed in his conduct 
 and in his very looks. " No," he exclaimed, " thou heartless 
 man of the world, fancy not that thou canst prove a friend ! 
 All that thou canst offer me is not worth the feeling of 
 affection which binds me to these destitute creatures. How 
 happy am I to have discovered thus early what is to be ex- 
 pected from thee." 
 
 He clasped Mignon in his arms as she ran to meet him, 
 exclaiming, " No ! nothing shall ever separate us, my beloved 
 little darling ! The specious prudence of the world shall 
 never induce me to forsake thee, or to forget how much I 
 owe thee." 
 
 The child, whose cordial embraces he was accustomed to 
 avoid, was enraptured at this unexpected exhibition of ten- 
 
 N 
 
178 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 derness, and clung so firmly to him, that he could hardly 
 disengage himself from her. 
 
 From this time he watched Jarno more narrowly, and 
 his conduct did not appear to him to be wholly praiseworthy; 
 indeed many things occurred of which he altogether dis- 
 approved. For instance, he began to entertain a strong 
 suspicion that the satire upon the Baron for which the poor 
 pedant had so severely suffered, was Jarno's composition. 
 And as the latter had joked over the circumstance in Wil- 
 helm' s presence, our friend thought he could recognize in 
 such conduct unequivocal signs of a bad heart, since nothing 
 in his opinion could be more wicked than to ridicule an 
 innocent being, whose woes one had occasioned, instead of 
 comforting and consoling him. Gladly would Wilhelm 
 himself have obtained satisfaction for the pedant, and by a 
 very remarkable accident it seemed that he had lately found 
 a clue to the perpetrators of the outrage. 
 
 It had been hitherto carefully concealed from Wilhelm 
 that several young officers were accustomed to spend entire 
 nights in the lower apartments of the old castle, in riotous 
 company with some of the actors and actresses. One morn- 
 ing having risen early according to his custom, he entered 
 one of those chambers by chance, and found the young 
 gentlemen above mentioned employed in making their 
 toilettes after a somewhat remarkable fashion. They had 
 mixed a quantity of chalk and water in a bowl, and were 
 engaged in daubing their waistcoats and pantaloons with 
 the paste, without undressing, and by this means they very 
 expeditiously restored the purity of their apparel. Our 
 friend, who was astonished at this strange proceeding, in- 
 stantly remembered the dusty and white powdered coat of 
 the poor pedant, and his suspicions were strengthened when 
 he learned that there were some relations of the Baron 
 among the party. 
 
 In order better to satisfy his suspicions, he determined to 
 invite the young gentlemen to breakfast. They were all in 
 high spirits, and related many lively anecdotes. One of 
 them, who had been for some time engaged in the recruiting 
 service, was loud in extolling the cunning and activity of his 
 captain, who possessed the art of ensnaring all descriptions 
 of persons, and of imposing upon them by every kind of 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 170 
 
 device. He related in precise terms, bow many young mm 
 of good family and of liberal education, bad been deceived 
 by promises of honour and promotion, and be laughed 
 heartily at the deluded youths, who at first had considered 
 it a high honour, to be esteemed and introduced by so re- 
 spectable, brave, prudent, and generous an officer. 
 
 How did Wilhelm bless his good genius for having pointed 
 out to him the abyss, to the very brink of which he had so 
 incautiously approached. Henceforth he could see nothing 
 in Jarno but the recruit ini; sergeant, and the embrace of the 
 strange officer no longer seemed a mystery to him. He felt 
 disgusted with such men, and from that moment he avoided 
 all contact with every individual who wore a uniform. In- 
 deed, the news which soon arrived that the army was about 
 to march from its present quarters, would have been par- 
 ticularly welcome, if he had not feared that he might thus 
 lose the society of his lovely friend for ever. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 IN the meantime the Baroness had spent some days in 
 the agonies of apprehension and unsatisfied curiosity. For 
 since the adventure which we have related, the conduct of 
 the Count had become an inexplicable enigma. His manner 
 was completely altered, he had ceased to indulge in any of 
 his customary jokes. He was more considerate in his de- 
 mands upon the company and upon the rest of the attendants. 
 I It- exhibited but little pedantry or display of authority ; on 
 the contrary, he had grown silent and reserved, and yet he 
 seemed to'be cheerful and to have become quite another 
 mail. For the public reading, which he sometimes attended, 
 he now made choice of certain serious and religious books,, 
 and the Baroness herself lived in a constant state of fear, lest 
 beneath his apparent quiet demeanour, he might conceal a 
 iff ling of malice, and harbour a secret intention of avenging 
 the offence, which he had accidentally discovered. She resolved 
 therefore to admit Jarno into her confidence, and she took 
 
180 WILHELM MEISTEK'S 
 
 this step the more freely, because she already occupied a posi- 
 tion with regard to him, where secrets are not accustomed to 
 prevail. Jarno had lately become her most attached friend, 
 but they were clever enough to conceal their attachment and 
 their pleasures from the talkative persons by whom they were 
 surrounded. But this new romance had not escaped the 
 eyes of the Countess, arid most probably the Baroness sought 
 to engage her friend in a similar enterprise, in order that 
 she herself might thus escape the silent reproaches, which 
 she frequently had to endure from that noble-minded 
 woman. 
 
 Scarcely had the Baroness related the adventure to her 
 friend, than he exclaimed with a burst of laughter, (t The 
 old man doubtless believes that he has seen his ghost ! he 
 fears that the apparition bodes soma misfortune, or perhaps, 
 his death, and he has now become quite subdued, as is 
 always the case with cowards when they think of that final 
 consummation which no mortal can escape. But softly ! I 
 have no fear but he will yet live long enough ; however, the 
 event will enable us to manage him in such a way, that he 
 shall never again prove troublesome either to his wife or to 
 his household.'' 
 
 Accordingly whenever any opportunity offered, and the 
 Count happened to be present, they introduced the subject 
 of ghosts, visions, warnings, and such topics of conversation. 
 Jarno played the sceptic, as did the Baroness also, and they 
 expressed their doubts so strongly, that at length the Count 
 taking Jarno aside, would reprove him for his free-thinking, 
 and endeavour to convince him by what he himself had seen 
 of the possibility and reality of supernatural appearances. 
 Jarno then pretended to be surprised, to doubt and finally 
 to be convinced, but in private with his friend he ridiculed 
 the weak-minded worldling who had been turned from his 
 evil ways by a phantom, but who nevertheless merited some 
 degree of praise, for having awaited the approach of a dire 
 misfortune, perhaps of death itself, with so much cpmposure. 
 
 *' Perhaps he might not have been so well satisfied with 
 the most natural result of this strange appearance," exclaimed 
 the Baroness, with her wonted cheerfulness, which she had 
 once more resumed, as soon as all fear had been dispelled 
 from her heart. Jarno was now richly rewarded, and new 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 181 
 
 plans were contrived for still further alarming the Count, 
 and for increasing and confirming the affection of the 
 Countess towards Wilhelm. 
 
 With this view, they related the entire story to the 
 Countess, who at first listened with displeasure, but subse- 
 quently became more thoughtful, and in her moments of 
 solitude employed herself in conjecturing, in pursuing, and 
 in painting the scenes which had been prepared for her. 
 
 The measures which were now adopted on all sidr<. 
 allowed no doubt to be entertained that the armies were 
 soon to move forward, and that the Prince would change 
 his head quarters, It was even reported that the Priim- 
 would leave the castle and return to the city. Our actors 
 were enabled therefore to calculate what ini^ht happen, but 
 Molina alone adopted any decided course ; the others, from 
 this time, thought of nothing but the enjoyment of the 
 present. 
 
 Wilhelm, however, was engaged in the execution of an 
 important task. The Countess had asked him for a copy 
 of his compositions, and he considered this request to be the 
 highest reward that he could receive for his labours. 
 
 A young author, who has never appeared in print, invariably 
 devotes infinite pains to furnish a clear and faultless copy 
 of his works. Such a moment appears to him to be tin- 
 golden age*)f authorship. He is transported back to thus.- 
 times when the press had not yet inundated the world 
 with useless writings, when only the noblest productions 
 of genius were copied and preserved by the worthiest men, 
 and hence he readily indulged the error that a carefully 
 copied manuscript like his, must necessarily be a work of 
 genius, worthy to be valued and esteemed by a critic and 
 patron of literature. 
 
 Preparations were now made for a great festival in honour 
 of the Prince, who was shortly to take his departure. Many 
 ladies from the neighbourhood had received invitations, and 
 the Countess was dressed and in readiness to receive them 
 at an early hour. Her toilette was more sumptuous than 
 usual. Her head-dress and ornaments were in the best 
 taste, and she wore her most costly jewels. The Baroness 
 also had spared no pains to display the utmost elegance and 
 splendour. Philina, who observed that both ladies felt 
 
182 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 rather weary in expecting the arrival of their guests, pro- 
 posed to send for Wilhelm, who was anxious to present his 
 manuscript which he had now completed, and to read aloud 
 some of its contents. He arrived, and felt completely as- 
 tonished at the figure and at the charms of the Countess, 
 which her present attire displayed to great advantage. He 
 commenced reading in obedience to the wish of the ladies, 
 but with so much hesitation and absence of mind, that if his 
 audience had not been very complaisant, they would at once 
 have dismissed him. 
 
 When he looked at the Countess it seemed as if electric 
 flames were sparkling before his eyes. Suddenly he became 
 breathless, and was forced to discontinue his reading. He 
 had always admired the beauty of the Countess, but now he 
 thought he had never beheld so perfect a creature, and a 
 thousand thoughts crowded upon his mind, of which the 
 following may be considered the substance. 
 
 " What an error do poets and sentimental persons com- 
 mit, in condemning ornament and decoration ; and requiring 
 that women of every rank should be attired in a dress of the 
 simplest kind and most conformable to nature. They find 
 fault with ornament, without reflecting that when they see 
 an ugly or merely ordinary person richly and sumptuously 
 dressed, it is not the decoration, but the individual which 
 displeases them. And I would now ask the best judges in 
 the world, whether they would be satisfied to see a single 
 one of those folds, ribbons or laces, braids, curls or jewels 
 removed? Would they incur the risk of disturbing the 
 delightful impression which seems so spontaneous and so 
 natural ? Yes, so natural I repeat. For as Minerva sprang 
 in complete armour from the head of Jupiter, this goddess 
 appears to have stepped with light foot fully attired and 
 decorated from the bosom of some beautiful flower.'* 
 
 During his reading he fixed his eyes upon her frequently, 
 in order to imprint her image indelibly upon his memory. 
 He made frequent mistakes, but his mind nevertheless 
 did not become confused, although upon other occasions 
 he had held that a trivial fault in a word, or even in a letter, 
 was a heinous offence which destroyed the effect of an entire 
 recitation. 
 
 A false alarm that the expected guests had arrived, now 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 183 
 
 brought the reading to an end. The Baroness thereupon 
 took her departure, and the Countess, in the act of closing 
 her writing desk, took out her jewel case and put some 
 additional rings upon her finger. " We must soon separate," 
 she observed, at the same time looking at the jewel case 
 attentively, "receive, therefore, the memorial of a kind 
 friend, who has no more earnest wish than for your happiness." 
 She then selected a ring, which enclosed beneath the 
 crystal, a beautiful lock of woven hair set round with 
 precious stones. She handed it to Wilhelm, who upon re- 
 ceiving it, knew not what to say or to do, but remained mo- 
 tionless as if he had been rooted to the ground. The Countess 
 closed her desk, and took her seat upon the sofa. 
 
 "And must I go without receiving any thing?" said 
 Philina, as she sank upon her knee and extended her hand 
 to the Countess. " See the poor simpleton !" she continued, 
 " who is so ready to speak when he should be silent, and is 
 now wholly incapable even of stammering out his gratitude. 
 Come, sir, testify your thanks at least by some expressive 
 action, and if to-day you can invent nothing, at least take 
 example by me." 
 
 Philina* seized the Countess's right hand and kissed it 
 with fervour. Wilhelm thereupon fell upon his knee, 
 took her left hand, and pressed it to his lips. The Countess 
 seemed confused but not displeased. 
 
 " Ah !" cried Philina, " I have never witnessed such 
 splendid attire, and have never seen a lady so fit to wear it. 
 What bracelets ! and what a hand ! what a necklace, and 
 what a bosom !" 
 
 " Peace ! flatterer," said the Countess. 
 
 " Is this a miniature of the Count ?" inquired Philina, 
 pointing to a rich medallion which the Countess wore at her 
 left side, suspended by a gold chain. 
 
 "He is painted' in his wedding dress," replied the 
 Countess. 
 
 " Was he then so young ?" asked Philina. " I know you 
 have been only a few years married." 
 
 " For the appearance of youth the artist is responsible," 
 answered the Countess. 
 
 " He is very handsome," added Philina. " But," she 
 continued, at the same time laying her hand upon the 
 
184 WILHELM MEISTEK'S 
 
 Countess's heart, " has no other image ever found an en- 
 trance within this secret retreat ?" 
 
 " You are a naughty child, Philina," said the Countess. 
 " I have spoiled you. Never let me hear that speech 
 again." 
 
 " If you are angry, I shall be wretched," cried Philina, 
 springing to her feet and rushing from the apartment. 
 
 Wilhelni still held that beautiful hand within his own. 
 The bracelet of the Countess caught his eye, which to his 
 great astonishment bore the initial letters of his name, in- 
 scribed in precious stones. 
 
 " Do I posses your hair within this precious ring P" he in- 
 quired, in a modest tone. 
 
 " You do," replied the Countess softly. She then be- 
 came more collected in her manner, and pressing his hand, 
 she said to him, " Rise and farewell." 
 
 "Here," he exclaimed, "by the strangest coincidence, 
 are the initials of my name." He pointed to the bracelet. 
 
 "Indeed !" replied the Countess ; "it is the cypher of a 
 female friend." 
 
 " My name !" he added ; " my initials ! But do not forget 
 me. Your image is indelibly engraven upon my heart. 
 Farewell I must fly." 
 
 He kissed her hand and tried to rise. As in dreams, 
 strange things are connected with still stranger, and we are 
 overwhelmed with astonishment at what ensues, so, without 
 comprehending how it occurred, he held the Countess in his 
 arms, her lips rested upon his, and she returned his warm 
 kisses of affection, which imparted to them both, a bliss 
 known only to those who imbibe the first draught of joy 
 from the foaming goblet of love. 
 
 Her head rested upon his shoulder, and she took no heed 
 of her disordered ringlets or her dress. Her arm embraced 
 him. He too embraced her with fervour, and pressed her 
 repeatedly to his heart. Oh, that such a moment could 
 have endured for ever, and alas ! for envious fortune which 
 interrupted our friend's enjoyment of that brief delight ! 
 
 But how was Wilhelm terrified, and with what astonish- 
 ment did he awake from his blessed dream, when the 
 Countess suddenly placed her hand upon her heart and 
 rushed from him with a shriek. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 185 
 
 He stood amazed before her. She held her other hand 
 before her eyes, and after a pause exclaimed, <c Be gone 
 without delay. 1 ' 
 
 He still remained. 
 
 " Leave me," she continued, and taking her hand from 
 her eyes, she gazed upon him with an indescribable look, and 
 then added with a voice of the utmost tenderness, " fly in- 
 stantly, if you love me." 
 
 Wilhelm had left the house and gained his own apart- 
 ment before he well knew what had occurred. 
 
 Unhappy lovers ! What strange warning of chance or 
 destiny was it, which thus tore you from each other ! 
 
186 WILHELM MEISTEfi's 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 WILHELM was standing at the window in a contemplative 
 mood he leaned upon his arm and looked out into the 
 fields. Philina approached quietly across the large apart- 
 ment, she took his arm and commenced ridiculing his serious 
 deportment. 
 
 " Do not laugh," he said, "is it not dreadful to think 
 how time passes, and how every thing changes and comes to 
 an end ? See here, for instance. But a short time ago, a 
 splendid camp stood close to us, and how beautiful the tents 
 looked ! what activity reigned within them ! how care- 
 fully did they guard the surrounding enclosure ! and now all 
 this has disappeared. For a short time longer those heaps 
 of trampled straw and remnants of suttlers' fires will remain, 
 but soon the surface of the ground will be ploughed and 
 reaped as before, and the presence of so many thousand 
 brave warriors in this neighbourhood will exist but in the 
 recollection of a few old men.' 1 
 
 Philina commenced a song, and drew Wilhelm along with 
 her to join the dancing in the hall. "Since we cannot 
 overtake time," she exclaimed, " when it has once fled, let us 
 at least pay honour to its fleeting course by mirth and 
 cheerfulness." 
 
 She had scarcely taken a few turns through the hall, when 
 Madame Melina joined them. Philina was wicked enough to 
 propose that she should join in the dance, thus reminding her 
 friend of her increasing and ungraceful looking figure. 
 
 " I wish," said Philina, when her back was turned, " that 
 I may never behold another woman in an interesting 
 situation." 
 
 "Do not say so," observed Laertes. 
 
 " It becomes her so ill. Have you not observed the 
 awkward motion of her shortened petticoats as she walks 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 187 
 
 along? She has not the least degree of tact, and has 
 no notion of arranging herself so as to conceal her condition/' 
 
 "Never mind,'* said Laertes, " time will soon come to her 
 relief." 
 
 " How pleasant it would be," remarked Philina, " if 
 children were like fruit, and could be gathered from the 
 trees." 
 
 The Baron now entered, and addressed them in a 
 friendly tone, offering a few presents from the Count and 
 Countess, who had taken their departure at an early hour. 
 He then went to Wilhelm, who was engaged with Mignon 
 in an adjoining apartment. The child had lately evinced 
 much affection for him, and had shewed an increased interest 
 in his affairs, having made enquiries about his parents, his 
 friends and relations, reminding him thus of his duty to 
 communicate to them some information about himself. 
 
 In delivering the farewell greeting of the family, the 
 Baron assured Wilhelm that the Count had been exceed- 
 ingly delighted with his poetical talents, as well as with his 
 theatrical labours. In proof of this assertion, the Baron 
 produced a purse, through whose beautiful apertures the 
 sparkling brightness of some new gold coins shone tempt- 
 ingly. Wilhelm drew back, and refused to accept the present. 
 
 " You must consider this present," said the Baron, " as a 
 remuneration for your time, a compensation for your trouble, 
 not as payment for your talents. If our mental qualifications 
 can secure us a fair reputation and the friendship of mankind, 
 it is only fair that our diligence and attention should secure 
 for us the means of existence, as we are not quite ethereal 
 beings. Had we been in town, where every thing is easily 
 procured, we should have converted this trifling sum of 
 money into a watch, a ring, or some similar article ; but we 
 must be satisfied now to place the wand of enchantment in 
 your own hands and request you to procure for yourself some 
 token of remembrance which you may consider most useful, 
 and most in accordance with your taste, and to keep it for 
 our sakes. But at the same time you must hold the purse 
 in honour. It was knit for you by the ladies, and they in- 
 tended that their labour should impart an additional charm 
 to the contents." 
 
 " Pardon my embarrassment," said Wilhelm, " and ex- 
 
188 TVILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 cuse my reluctance to accept this present. It robs my services 
 of their value and destroys all the free play of pleasant recollec- 
 tions. Money is an admirable thing to cancel obligations 
 and efface their memory, but I own I should not like to be 
 forgotten by your family." 
 
 " That can never be the case," replied the Baron ; " but 
 with your delicate feelings, you can scarcely wish that the 
 Count should remain your debtor, knowing that he is a 
 man who always feels a pride in being punctual and just. 
 He is aware of the great labour you have undergone, and of 
 the anxiety with which you have sought to execute his 
 wishes ; and he knows, moreover, that in order to expedite 
 his plans, you made no scruple to expend your own money. 
 How then can I return to him without bearing the assur- 
 ance that his gratitude has afforded you sincere plea- 
 sure?" 
 
 " If I thought only of myself and followed my own private 
 inclinations," replied Wilhelm, " I should, in spite of all your 
 reasons, persist in refusing this handsome and honourable 
 gift, but I cannot deny that whilst it occasions one per- 
 plex ; ty, it frees me from another with respect to my relations, 
 the thought of whom has occasioned me much inward un- 
 easiness. I have not made the most advantageous disposal 
 either of my money or my time, and I am answerable for 
 both, and now through the generosity of the Count, I shall 
 be able to console my family with an account of the good 
 fortune to which this unexpected incident has led me. I 
 abandon therefore those feelings of delicacy, which like the 
 warnings of a tender conscience, should lead us upon such 
 occasions to a higher duty, and in order that I may appear 
 with courage before my father, I shall submit to seem 
 ashamed before you." 
 
 '* How strange it is/' observed the Baron, " that mm 
 should feel so much reluctance to accept money from 
 their friends and patrons, when they would take any other 
 present from them with joy and gratitude. And there are 
 some other subjects upon which men manifest scruples of a 
 similar kind." 
 
 " Is it not the same with every thing that concerns our 
 honour?" inquired Wilhelm. 
 
 " Certainly," replied the Baron, " and with some other 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 189 
 
 prejudices also. And we must take care not to eradicate 
 them, lest we should tear up some other noble plants at the 
 same time. But I am always glad when, as occasion requires, 
 men shew themselves superior to such prejudices ; and I feel 
 pleased when I remember the story of the celebrated poet, 
 who having composed several plays for the court theatre, found 
 them honoured with the approbation of the prince. ' He 
 must have a splendid recompense,' said the generous monarch, 
 * ask him whether he will select a jewel, as he might scorn 
 to accept a sum of money. 1 The author answered the courtier 
 in his own humourous way, * I am deeply thankful for the 
 gracious suggestion, but as the King accepts money from us 
 every day, I see no reason why I should feel ashamed to 
 accept the same from him.' >: 
 
 The Baron had scarcely left the room, when Wilhelm 
 commenced eagerly to count over the contents of the purse, 
 which had come to him in so unexpected, and as he thought in 
 so undeserved a mariner. It seemed as if the value and dignity 
 of gold, a feeling which we well understand in later years, 
 now presented their attractions to him for the first time, as 
 the handsome glittering pieces rolled out from the beautiful 
 purse. He counted them, and found that, as Melina had 
 promised to repay the loan immediately, his stock of cash 
 was now as large as it had been on the day when Philina 
 had first solicited his nosegay. He thought of his talents, 
 therefore, with a certain degree of secret satisfaction, and 
 felt elated at the recollection of the good fortune which had 
 attended them. He seized his pen without further delay, 
 and commenced a letter, to relieve his family from their 
 apprehended anxiety, and to represent his own conduct in 
 the most advantageous light. He avoided, however, entering 
 into any circumstantial details, and only allowed his friends 
 to conjecture what had happened to him, by his significant 
 and mysteridus expressions. The flourishing state of his 
 exchequer, the success which he owed to his talents, the 
 favour of the great, the partiality of the ladies, his extended 
 acquaintance, the improvement of his bodily and mental 
 powers, and finally his hopes for the future, were described 
 so as to form a picture of wonderful enchantment. Indeed 
 the Fata Morgana could scarcely have surpassed it. 
 
 Such was his happy enthusiasm, that he continued long 
 
190 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 after he had finished his task, to hold a conversation with 
 himself, in which he recapitulated the contents of his letter, 
 and promised himself an active and glorious career for the 
 future. The example set by so many noble warriors had 
 aroused him, the poetry of Shakspeare had introduced him 
 to a new world, and his whole being had become animated 
 with fresh warmth by the lips of the beautiful Countess. 
 It was impossible that all these things should be lost upon 
 him. 
 
 The Stallmeister now came to inquire whether they 
 had completed their packing. Unfortunately, no one 
 but Melina had bestowed a thought upon the subject, 
 although the time had nearly arrived for their departure. 
 The Count had promised to provide conveyances for the 
 party, for a portion of the journey ; and, as the horses were 
 now in readiness, it would not do to detain them. Wilhelm 
 asked for* his trunk ; Madame Melina had appropriated it 
 to herself. He inquired about his money. Melina had 
 packed it away carefully, and it lay at the very bottom of 
 of his trunk. But Philina suggesting that she had some room 
 to spare in her's, she accordingly took Wilhelm's clothes, and 
 requested Mignon to collect his other things. It was not 
 without much reluctance that Wilhelm found himself 
 compelled to consent to this arrangement. 
 
 Whilst they were packing and preparing, Melina observed, 
 " I regret that we should have to travel in this manner, 
 like rope dancers and mountebanks ; I wish that Mignon 
 would dress herself in female apparel, and that the harper 
 would consent to cut off his beard." Mignon upon this 
 clung closely to Wilhelm, and exclaimed with great warmth, 
 " I am a boy, and will not be taken for a girl !" The old 
 man was silent, and Philina made some merry observations 
 on the peculiarities of her friend the Count. " If the harper 
 allows his beard to be cut off, he can sew it carefully upon 
 a ribbon and preserve it, that he may assume it again, when- 
 ever he meets the Count in any other part of the world, for 
 it is to his beard alone that he is indebted for the favour of 
 lordship." 
 
 Upon being pressed to explain this singular speech, she 
 stated that the Count always considered that it contributed 
 very much to complete the illusion, when actors continued 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 191 
 
 to play their parts and sustain their characters in common 
 life. On this account it was that he had been so partial to 
 the pedant ; and he had warmly approved of the harper's 
 custom of wearing his false beard, not only in the evening 
 upon the stage, but constantly in the daytime, and he had 
 expressed himself as highly delighted with the natural 
 appearance of that masquerading appendage. 
 
 Whilst the rest of the company were amusing themselves 
 at this mistake, and at other singular opinions of the Count, 
 the harper took Wilhelm aside, bade him farewell, and 
 implored with tears that he would allow him to depart. 
 Wilhelm comforted him, assuring him that he would defend 
 him against every foe, promising that no one should injure 
 a hair of his head, much less dismiss him against his consent. 
 
 The old man was deeply moved, and a strange fire glowed 
 within his eyes, " I am not leaving you on that account/' he 
 said, " but I have often felt an inward reproof for having 
 remained with you so long. I ought not to linger any where, 
 for misfortune pursues me and injures those who attach 
 themselves to me. Tou will have every thing to fear, if you 
 do not let me go ; but ask no questions, I do not belong to 
 myself and I cannot stay." 
 
 " To whom then do you belong ? Who can exert such 
 influence over you ?" 
 
 " O, Sir ! let me preserve my dreadful secret, and allow 
 me to depart. The vengeance which pursues me, is not that 
 of an earthly judge. I belong to an unpitying destiny. 
 I cannot, and I dare not stay.' ' 
 
 " In your present condition I cannot let you go." 
 
 " It would be high treason against you, my benefactor, 
 were I to delay. I am safe whilst I remain with you ; but you 
 are in danger. You know not whom you have near you. And 
 yet I am rather unfortunate than guilty. My presence 
 scares all happiness away, and good actions possess no virtue 
 when performed by me. I must be a fugitive, and restless 
 that I may escape my evil genius. He pursues me with 
 slow steps, and only shews himself when I would lay down 
 my weary head to take repose. I cannot evince my grati- 
 tude more strongly than by bidding you farewell." 
 
 fl Strange being ! you can neither destroy my confidence 
 in you, nor my hopes that I shall see you happy. I do not 
 
192 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 wish to penetrate the secret of your superstition ; but while 
 you live amid wondrous forebodings and entanglements of 
 fate, let me tell you for your consolation and comfort, that 
 you shall share my happy fortune ; and we shall soon see which 
 is more powerful, your dark destiny, or my bright genius." 
 
 Wilhelm seized the opportunity to comfort him with 
 many soothing speeches, for he had lately begun to suspect 
 that his strange companion had been led by chance or 
 fate, to the commission of some dreadful crime, by the 
 remembrance of which his mind was continually haunted. 
 Only a few days ago Wilhelm had overheard one of his songs, 
 and he had been forcibly impressed by the following lines : 
 
 To him the morning's radiant glow 
 
 With angry flames is red, 
 And Nature's brightness here below 
 
 Appals his guilty head. 
 
 The old man, however, might use whatever arguments he 
 pleased, Wilhelm was never without an appropriate reply. 
 He knew how to represent every thing in the most favour- 
 able light ; and he always spoke so bravely, so heartily and so 
 consolingly, that the old man felt himself once more re- 
 vived, and abandoned all his whims. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 MELINA entertained some hopes of being able to establish 
 himself and his company in some small thriving town. They 
 had already reached the spot to which the Count's horses 
 were to convey them ; and they began therefore to look 
 about for some other conveyances to continue their journey. 
 Melina had undertaken this task ; and, as usual, he afforded 
 proofs of his niggardly disposition. Wilhelm, however, had 
 in his purse the shining ducats of the Countess ; and, as he 
 considered himself entitled to spend them freely, he forgot 
 how favourably he had made them figure in the stately balance 
 which he had transmitted to his relations. 
 
 His friend Shakspeare, whom he pronounced to be his 
 godfather with feelings of the greatest delight, rejoicing that 
 his name was Wilhelm, had introduced him to a prince who 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 193 
 
 for a considerable time had been enchanted with the society 
 of dissipated companions ; and who, in spite of his own noble 
 disposition, had enjoyed the rudeness, indecency, and 
 wickedness of their sensual pursuits. He felt charmed with 
 the ideal resemblance to his own actual condition ; and 
 the self-deception to which he so easily fell a prey, was by 
 this means sensibly increased. 
 
 His thoughts were now turned to his style of dress. He 
 considered that a waistcoat over which at times he might 
 fling a short cloak would not be an inappropriate attire for 
 a traveller. Long woven pantaloons and laced boots seemed 
 to him the proper garb for a pedestrian. He procured in the 
 next place, a handsome silk scarf, which he wore upon the 
 plea that it would keep him warm. He then freed his neck 
 from the tyranny of a cravat, and caused a few pieces of 
 muslin to be sewed to his shirt, which as they were made 
 rather broad, assumed the appearance of an antique ruff. 
 The beautiful silk neck-kerchief, which he had received from 
 Mariana, and which had been formerly saved from the 
 flames, was tied in an easy knot beneath his muslin collar. 
 A round hat with a party-coloured ribbon and a waving 
 plume completed the masquerade of his attire. 
 
 The women protested that this dress was extremely 
 becoming to him. Philina seemed enchanted with it, and 
 since to make a nearer approach to the picture of his own 
 ideal, he had caused his hair to be mercilessly clipped, she 
 had solicited that his beautiful curls might be given to her. 
 Wilhelm was not displeased with the request, as since his 
 generosity had given him the right of assuming Prince Hal's 
 manner towards his companions, he very soon acquired the 
 habit of indulging in the practice of some silly fooleries. 
 He fenced, and danced, and played all manner of tricks with 
 his friends. In their gaiety of heart they drank rather 
 copiously of the miserable wine which they were able to 
 procure, and in the disorder of this irregular life, Philina 
 watched every motion of our coy hero, whom we therefore 
 commend to the protection of the fates. 
 
 One principal amusement which the company especially 
 enjoyed, consisted in performing an extempore play, in which 
 their late patrons and benefactors were ridiculed and mi- 
 micked. Some of the actors had attentively observed the 
 
 o 
 
WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 peculiarities of manner which belonged to their superiors, 
 and the imitation of these was received by the company 
 with tumults of applause ; and when Philina produced from 
 the secret records of her own experience, certain avowals of 
 love which she had received, their joy and malicious laughter 
 knew no bounds. 
 
 Wilhelm disapproved of their ingratitude, but they replied 
 that their former patrons had deserved what they were 
 receiving, inasmuch as their conduct towards such deserving 
 people as themselves had not been the best imaginable : the 
 neglect and disrespect, with which they had been treated, 
 were now exaggerated, and as the jesting, derision and 
 mimicry proceeded, the conduct of the whole party increased 
 in injustice and severity. 
 
 "1 could wish," observed Wilhelm, " that your observa- 
 tions were free from envy and selfishness, and that you would 
 consent to see those persons and their circumstances in a 
 proper point of view. It is a peculiar privilege to be ele- 
 vated by high birth to an exalted station among mankind. 
 The man whose existence is rendered easy by the wealth 
 which he inherits, and who finds himself provided for from 
 his very youth, with all the secondary advantages of life, 
 will generally prize such qualifications above all others, and 
 an existence which is furnished only with the rich en- 
 dowments of nature, will not appear to him to possess any 
 value. The conduct of the great towards their inferiors, 
 and towards persons of their own class, is regulated by 
 their possession of material advantages. Each one is 
 valued in proportion to his title, his rank, his apparel, 
 and his equipage ; but his natural merits are inadequately 
 esteemed." 
 
 The company received this speech with unbounded ap- 
 plause. They considered it too bad that merit should be so 
 invariably neglected, and that in the great world there 
 should be so little natural and cordial intercourse. Upon 
 this subject- they all became inconceivably eloquent. 
 
 " But we must not blame them on this account," said 
 Wilhelm, " we should rather pity them ! For they seldom 
 have a right appreciation of that happiness which we recog- 
 nize as the highest enjoyment that can How from the inward 
 wealth of nature. Poor creatures like ourselves can alone 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 195 
 
 enjoy the delights of friendship in their richest fulness. 
 We cannot elevate our friends by favour, advance them by 
 interest, or render them happy by means of presents. We 
 possess nothing but ourselves. This whole self we must 
 therefore bestow, and if it is intended to have any value, 
 we must assure it to our friend for ever. What an enjoy- 
 ment, what a happiness for both giver and receiver ! In 
 what a blessed situation are we placed by truth ! It invests 
 the transitory life of man with a heavenly certainty, it com- 
 pletes and perfects all our wealth." 
 
 Mignon had approached him as he was pronouncing these 
 words ; she embraced him with her little arms, and stood 
 with her face resting against his bosom. He placed his hand 
 upon her head, and continued thus. " How easy it is for a 
 great man to win our hearts, and to make them his own. An 
 agreeable, mild, and natural manner does wonders, and such 
 a person possesses a thousand resources for retaining the 
 attachments which he has once formed. All this is more 
 rare and difficult to us, and therefore we naturally place 
 a greater value upon whatever we require and accomplish. 
 How affecting are the instances of attached servants, who 
 sacrifice themselves for their masters ! How admirably has 
 Shakspeare depicted such characters ! In such instances 
 fidelity consists in the struggle of a noble soul to resemble 
 its superior. By enduring attachment and love the servant 
 becomes equal to his master, who would otherwise feel justi- 
 fied in regarding him as his hired slave. Yes, such virtues 
 belong only to the inferior classes of mankind, they cannot 
 dispense with them, and they invest the lower orders with a 
 peculiar eharm. Whoever can easily repay obligations, will 
 be easily tempted to forget acknowledgments. In this 
 sense I think I may assert, that though a great man may 
 possess a friend, he cannot easily become one." 
 
 Mignon pressed still closer to him. 
 
 " Well," said one of the company, " we do not need the 
 friendship of such people, and we have never sought it. 
 But they ought better to understand the arts which they 
 pretend to patronize. We were never appreciated when we 
 acted in our best manner ; everything went by complete 
 partiality. Whoever enjoyed their favour, was sure to 
 please ; but they never bestowed their applause upon the 
 
196 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 most deserving. It was strange how often mere folly and 
 stupidity was received with satisfaction and approbation." 
 
 " When I make allowance," said Wilhelm, " for irony and 
 malice, it seems to me that art in many things resembles 
 love. And how can the man of the world with his habits of 
 dissipation feel that thorough devotion to his pursuits, in 
 which an artist must persist who would bring any thing to 
 perfection, a feeling which must be shared by every one who 
 would take that interest in his occupation which an artist 
 would approve." 
 
 " Take my word for it, my friends, talents no less than 
 virtues must be loved for their own sake, or utterly re- 
 nounced. And yet neither the one nor the other are acknow- 
 ledged or rewarded, unless they are practised, like a dan- 
 gerous secret, iu utter privacy." 
 
 "And in the meantime," exclaimed a voice from the 
 corner, " we may all die of starvation, unless a proper judge 
 discover our merits." 
 
 "JSTot exactly," answered Wilhelm, "I have invariably 
 found that as long as a man lives and exerts himself, he can 
 always procure a subsistence, even though it be not of the 
 very choicest description. And of what can you complain ? 
 Have you not been unexpectedly favoured and befriended at 
 a moment when our prospects seemed desperate ? And 
 now when we want nothing, does it ever occur to us 
 that we ought to exert ourselves for our improvement, and 
 to make progress in our art ? We waste our time in 
 trifling, and like school-boys we drive away every thought 
 that may remind us of our lessons." 
 
 " In very truth," observed Philina, " that is undeniable. 
 So let us select a play and act it this very moment. Each 
 of us must do his best, as if he were in the presence of a 
 large audience." 
 
 They wasted no time in thinking. The piece was selected 
 one of those plays which at that time were in high favour 
 in Germany, but which are now absolutely forgotten. Some 
 6f the company whistled a symphony : the rest thought 
 over their parts, and they forthwith commenced the per- 
 formance, acting with the greatest attention, and succeeding 
 beyond all expectation. They applauded each other in turn 
 they felt that they had seldom found such genuine enjoyment. 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 197 
 
 At the conclusion, they all felt happy, partly because their 
 time had been well spent, partly because they experienced a 
 feeling of self-satisfaction. Wilhelm was extravagant in his 
 praises, and the conversation grew merry and agreeable. 
 
 " You would soon find," cried "Wilhelm, " what progress 
 we should make, if we continued to practise our art in this 
 manner, and no longer confined our attention to mere learn- 
 ing by heart, to practising, and mechanical rehearsals, as if 
 we were discharging a duty or pursuing some handicraft em- 
 ployment. How differently musicians act ! with what de- 
 light and precision do they exert themselves together ! what 
 pains they take in the mere tuning of their instruments ! 
 now exact are they in keeping time, and with what delicacy 
 they express the strength and sweetness of their notes ! 
 None of their body would dream of endeavouring to excel 
 by playing a loud accompaniment to the solo of another. 
 Each one seeks to enter into the spirit and intention of the 
 composer and to play his own part well, whether it be great 
 or unimportant. 
 
 " Should we not also exert ourselves with the same par- 
 ticularity, in the practice of an art which is far more delicate 
 than music, as our task consists in expressing the commonest 
 and rarest emotions of mankind with taste and elegance. 
 Nothing can be more reprehensible than to neglect our re- 
 hearsals, and to depend for the success of our performance 
 upon the humour or accident of the moment. Our greatest 
 pleasure and happiness should be found in seeking mutually 
 to delight each other, and we should even prize the approba- 
 tion of the public, only in proportion as we had previously 
 sanctioned it amongst ourselves. Why is the leader of the 
 orchestra more certain of his performance than the director 
 of the stage ? Because, in the former, each individual would 
 blush for a mistake that could offend the outward ear. But 
 how rarely do you find an actor ashamed of any mistake, 
 whether pardonable or otherwise, which grossly offends the 
 inward ear. I wish heartily that the stage were as narrow 
 as the wire of a rope-dancer, that no unskilful person might 
 venture thereupon, instead of being a place where every 
 blunderer fancies himself qualified to make an exhibition."' 
 
 The company approved of this speech, as each of them felt 
 certain that the rebuke which it contained was not intended 
 
198 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 for himself, as they had all but a short time previously per- 
 formed so well. It was especially agreed that if they should 
 remain together, they would continue the joint performances 
 which they had already commenced. But they resolved that 
 as their acting was voluntary and little else than a species of 
 recreation, no director should have anything to do with it. 
 Considering it as decided, that amongst good men the repub- 
 lican form of government is the best, they resolved that the 
 office of manager should be filled by each of them in turn, 
 that that functionary should be elected by the others, and 
 that he should be assisted in his duties by a sort of little 
 senate. They were so pleased with the suggestion, that they 
 resolved to adopt it without delay. 
 
 " I have no objection," observed Melina, "if you wish to 
 make a trial of your plan during our journey, 1 will cheer- 
 fully resign my own direction, until we arrive at some ap- 
 pointed place." He thought to economize by this means, and 
 to throw a portion of the daily small expenses upon the little 
 republic and the temporary manager. They accordingly 
 consulted together how they might best settle the form of 
 their intended government. 
 
 "As our kingdom will be perpetually travelling," said 
 Laertes, " we shall have no dispute about boundaries." 
 
 They now proceeded to business and elected Wilhelm as 
 their first manager. The senate was appointed and the 
 women were allowed to have seats, and to vote rules were 
 proposed, rejected and adopted. In such amusements the 
 time passed unheededly away, and as it had been spent 
 pleasantly, they all considered that they had done something 
 useful, and had by their new plan introduced more hopeful 
 prospects for the improvement of the national stage. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 WILHELM observing the good dispositions of the com- 
 pany, now began to entertain hopes that he might be able to 
 converse with them upon the poetic merits of the pieces they 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 199 
 
 performed. And, accordingly, when they met together on 
 the following day, he reminded them that it was not suffi- 
 cient that actors should take a mere cursory view of their 
 parts, and form their opinions from first impressions, and 
 declare that they afforded pleasure or dissatisfaction without 
 inquiry. 
 
 " Spectators," he said, " may act in this way, as their 
 object is rather to be moved and entertained, than to criticise 
 accurately. But actors should be able to assign a reason for 
 their censure or approbation and how can they do this 
 if they have not learned thoroughly to understand the sense 
 and views of their author. I have lately detected in myself 
 a disposition to judge of a piece from a single character, and 
 not from its connect inn with the whole, and I should like to 
 explain my moaning by an example, if you will kindly give 
 me a p.-itient hearing. 
 
 You are acquainted with Shakspeare's incomparable 
 Hamlet, from our reading it at the castle, an amusement 
 which afforded us all so much delight. We contemplated at 
 the time, performing the piece, and I intended, without well 
 knowing what I was about, to act the part of the Prince. I 
 conceived that I was studying the character, whilst I was 
 committing to memory the strongest passages, the soliloquies 
 and those scenes in which force of soul, elevation of spirit 
 and vehemence chiefly predominate, in fine where the agita- 
 tion of the mind displays itself with affecting expressiveness. 
 
 " I thought, moreover, that I was completely entering into 
 the spirit of the part, when I took upon myself the load of 
 deep melancholy, under which my prototype was labouring, 
 and I followed him through the strange labyrinth of his 
 many humours and singularities. In this way I learned and 
 practised, until 1 thought that I should at length gradually 
 identify myself with my hero. But as I proceeded, I found 
 the representation of the character becoming more difficult, 
 and I thought it almost impossible to take a complete 'view 
 of the poet's conception. I now went through the piece 
 uninterruptedly, but even in this way I found much that I 
 could not comprehend. At one time the characters, and at 
 another their delineation seemed contradictory, and I almost 
 despaired of finding a proper hue in which I could pourtray 
 
200 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 my whole part with all its varieties and shadows. 1 struggled 
 long with these misconceptions, until at length I thought I 
 might attain my object by a different method. 
 
 " I commenced accordingly to examine every indication of 
 Hamlet's character which he had exhibited previous to his 
 father's death. I noted every point which seemed indepen- 
 dent of that sad event, unconnected with the appalling circum- 
 stances that followed, I reflected upon what this interesting 
 youth had now become, and what he might have been, if no 
 such events had taken place. 
 
 " At once delicate and noble, this royal flower had 
 bloomed under the immediate influence of majesty. His 
 perceptions of virtue and of princely worth, together with 
 an appreciation of whatever was good and dignified, united 
 with a consciousness of his high birth, were developed in 
 him simultaneously. He was a prince, an hereditary prince, 
 and he was ambitious to reign only that good men might con- 
 tinue to be good without hindrance. Agreeable in form, 
 polished by nature, affable from the heart, he was intended 
 to be a model for youth and the joy of the world. 
 
 " His love for Ophelia was not the result of warm passion, 
 but the silent expression of his sweet wants. His taste for 
 knightly pursuits was not quite natural to him, but required 
 to be excited and kept alive by the praises bestowed upon a 
 rival. Of pure thoughts himself, he appreciated what was 
 honourable in others, and he could prize the repose which an 
 upright spirit enjoys in the confidence of a friend. Up to a 
 certain point, he could value what was good and excellent in 
 the arts and sciences. Vulgarity was offensive to him, and 
 if hatred could find a place in his tender soul, it was only 
 that he might despise the whole tribe of false and hypocritical 
 courtiers, and convert them into subjects of derision. He was 
 open in his conduct, simple in his manners, neither satisfied 
 with idleness nor too anxious for occupation. He carried his 
 academical habits to the court. He possessed more mirth of 
 humour than of heart, he was a good companion, pliant, dis- 
 creet and punctilious, and was able to forgive and to forget 
 an injury, but he could not tolerate those who overstepped 
 the boundaries of honesty, propriety and virtue. 
 
 " When we read the play together again, you will be able 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 201 
 
 to judge if I am now on the right track. I hope, at all 
 events, that I shall be able to strengthen my opinion by il- 
 lustrations from the author." 
 
 This hasty sketch was received with general applause. 
 His audience were of opinion that Hamlet's conduct could 
 now be explained satisfactorily, and they approved this mode 
 of penetrating into the spirit of an author. Each of them 
 proposed to study a play upon this plan, in order properly to 
 unfold the meaning of the writer. 
 
 CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 THE company were compelled to remain in their present 
 abode for some days, and in the meantime some of them 
 were amused with certain agreeable adventures. Laertes, 
 for instance, became the especial favourite of a lady who 
 possessed some property in the neighbourhood, but he be- 
 haved towards her in a cold and heartless manner, and thus 
 drew upon himself the malicious satire of Philina. She 
 seized this opportunity of relating to "Wilhelm the unhappy 
 adventure which had rendered Laertes so great an enemy to 
 the sex. " And who can blame him," she exclaimed, " for 
 hating a sex which has used him so badly, and obliged him to 
 drink in one concentrated potion, all the evils which men can 
 apprehend from women ? Only imagine-- within the short 
 space of four-and-twenty hours he has been lover, bridegroom, 
 husband, cuckold, invalid, and widower. I do not see how 
 a man's fate could be worse." 
 
 Laertes ran out of the room, half laughing and half angry, 
 and Philina commenced in her jocose manner to relate the 
 story ; telling how Laertes, a youth of eighteen, as soon as 
 he had joined the company of actors, had found amongst 
 them a pretty girl of fourteen, who was on the point of 
 leaving them with her father, as the latter had had a mis- 
 understanding with the manager. He fell mortally in love 
 at first sight, used every exertion to induce the lather to 
 stay, and finally promised to marry his daughter. After a 
 
202 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 few pleasant hours of courtship he was married, had passed 
 a happy bridal night, in return for which she on the follow- 
 ing morning, whilst he was engaged at the rehearsal, had 
 honoured him with a pair of horns. He had hastened home 
 in the excess of his tenderness, and found a former lover in 
 his place. This had caused him to behave like a demon, he 
 challenged both the lover and the father, and himself sus- 
 tained a grievous wound. Both father and daughter there- 
 upon made their escape the same night, and Laertes 
 remained behind to mourn over his double wound. Ill luck 
 induced him to apply to the worst of doctors, and the poor 
 wretch had got out of the scrape with blackened teeth and 
 weeping eyes. He was deserving of pity, as in other respects 
 he really was the best creature in the world. But I am sorry 
 above all things that the poor simpleton hates the whole sex 
 for how can any man hate them and live ?" 
 
 Melina interrupted her with the announcement that every 
 thing had been prepared for the journey, and that on the 
 following morning they were to depart. He handed her a 
 plan of the mode in which they were to travel. 
 
 " If some kind friend will only take me in his lap," said 
 Philina, " I am content ; no matter how much we may be 
 squeezed ; I can put up with it." 
 
 " It is of no consequence," observed Laertes, who now 
 entered. 
 
 " It is too bad!" exclaimed Wilhelm, as he hastened 
 away. His money enabled him to hire a very comfortable 
 carriage which Melina had declined to engage. A new 
 arrangement of the party now took place, and they were 
 congratulating themselves upon the prospect of a pleasant 
 journey, when the alarming news arrived that a party of 
 military volunteers had been seen upon the road, from whom 
 nothing good could be expected. 
 
 The news created some sensation in the town, though it 
 was in its nature uncertain and ambiguous. According to 
 the position which the armies occupied, it seemed impossible 
 that a hostile corps could have marched forward, or that any 
 friendly one could have remained behind so far. Every one 
 seemed anxious to represent the danger as truly appalling, 
 and advised the party to take another road. 
 
 Most of the latter were for this reason exceedingly 
 
APPRENTICE SHIP. 203 
 
 alarmed, and when in conformity with their new republican 
 constitution, the members of the society were convened to 
 consider this extraordinary case, they were almost unani- 
 mously of opinion that it would be better to shun the 
 danger by remaining where they were, or avoid it by taking 
 some other road. 
 
 But Wilhelm, who felt no alarm himself, considered it 
 shameful to abandon a plan which they had adopted after so 
 much consideration, upon a mere rumour of peril. He 
 endeavoured to encourage the rest, and his reasons were 
 manly and convincing. 
 
 "The whole thing is a mere report/' he observed, "and 
 how many such reports must be circulated during a 
 war ! All sensible persons say that danger is extremely 
 improbable, and almost impossible. And ought we in a 
 matter of so much importance to be swayed by a mere 
 doubtful rumour ? The route which the Count selected for 
 us, and for which our passports are made out, is the shortest 
 and also the best. It leads to the town where we shall see 
 our acquaintances and friends and hope to meet a favourable 
 reception. The other route will also take us thither, but 
 what a circuit must we make, and over what bad roads 
 must we travel ! We can scarcely indulge hopes of pro- 
 secuting our journey at all at this late season, and how much 
 time and money shall we in the meanwhile squander !" He 
 said so much and presented the subject in so many advan- 
 tageous points of view, that their apprehensions began to 
 diminish and their courage to increase. He persuaded 
 them so strongly of the discipline of regular soldiers, and 
 described the marauders and itinerant rabble in such con- 
 temptible colours, representing the danger itself as so ex- 
 citing and pleasant, that the spirits of the whole party were 
 cheered and encouraged. 
 
 Laertes had agreed with him from the beginning, and he 
 promised that nothing should induce him to change his sen- 
 timents. The other actors expressed their views in their 
 own manner. Philina laughed at them all, and Madame 
 Melina who, notwithstanding her advanced pregnancy, still 
 retained her high courage, considered the proposition as 
 heroic. For this reason Melina himself who thought it 
 possible that he might save something by taking the shorter 
 
204 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 road as he had originally intended, did not oppose the 
 general voice, and the plan was accordingly adopted. 
 
 They now began to prepare for defending themselves 
 against every accident. Huge knives were purchased which 
 were suspended by straps across their shoulders. "Wilhelm 
 in addition had a pair of pistols in his girdle ; Laertes carried 
 a gun, and thus equipped they set out merrily upon their 
 journey. 
 
 The drivers of the carriages proposed on the second day 
 that they should rest for awhile, at the hour of noon, at a 
 certain woody spot upon the hills. The town was at no 
 great distance, and this road was generally taken in favour- 
 able weather. 
 
 The day was fine, and all parties agreed to the proposal. 
 Wilhelm hastened on foot across the hill, and every one 
 who met him wondered at his singular appearance. He 
 proceeded through the wood with quick and contented steps ; 
 Laertes followed him, and whistled as he went, while the 
 ladies retained their seats in the carriage. Mignon, however, 
 ran along at his side wearing the knife of which she was 
 proud, as she refused to lay it aside when the company were 
 arming themselves. She had ornamented her hat with a 
 pearl necklace, one of Mariana's relics which Wilhelm still 
 retained. Young Friedrich carried Laertes' gun. The 
 harper had the most peaceable look of the whole party. His 
 long garment was gathered up and fastened to his girdle, 
 that he might walk with less restraint. He leaned upon a 
 knotty staff, his harp having been left in the carriage. 
 
 When they had with some little difficulty ascended the 
 hill, they recognised the appointed place by the splendid 
 beech trees with which it was at once environed and shaded. 
 An open meadow softly sloping invited them to repose, 
 whilst a secluded well offered the most delicious refreshment, 
 and in the distance, through openings in the mountains, and 
 across the woods, they beheld a lovely landscape. Villages 
 and mills adorned the plain, and far away in the perspective 
 a chain of gradually ascending hills awakened feelings of 
 hope within the mind, as they softly closed around the 
 landscape. 
 
 Those who arrived first took possession of the place, they 
 lay down in the shade, lighted a fire, and amusing themselves 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 205 
 
 with singing, they awaited the appearance of the rest of the 
 party. They arrived gradually and seemed delighted with 
 . che place, the beautiful weather, and the lovely scene. 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 doors they had often enjoyed many a happy and 
 convivial hour, but they all felt a keener pleasure now, the 
 freedom of the open air and the beauty of the spot tending 
 to elevato and purify their feelings. They were at once 
 more friendly towards each other, and they all wished that it 
 were possible to spend their whole lives in so charming an 
 abode. They envied the whole tribe of hunters, charcoal- 
 burners, and wood-cutters who are compelled by their pur- 
 suits in life to reside amid such happy scenery, but beyond 
 all things they were enchanted with the idea of a gipsey life. 
 They envied those mysterious beings who in a state of bliss- 
 ful idleness were privileged to enjoy all the wonderful 
 charms of nature, and they felt a pleasure in resembling 
 them to some extent. 
 
 The women had in the meantime commenced to boil 
 potatoes and to unpack and lay out their store of provisions. 
 Some pots were standing by the fire, and the different mem- 
 bers of the company lay in groups beneath the trees and 
 beeches. Their peculiar attire and their various weapons 
 gave them a wild appearance. The horses were grazing 
 near them, and if the vehicles could have been concealed, 
 the appearance of the whole party would have been romantic 
 .even to illusion. 
 
 Wilhelm thrilled with a novel feeling of rapture. He 
 imagined that they were a wandering colony, of whom he 
 was the leader. And with this idea he addressed each per- 
 son and clothed this fancy of the hour in as poetical a 
 garb as possible. The pleasure of the party increased 
 momently, they ate, drank, and made merry, and declared 
 incessantly that they had never enjoyed greater hap- 
 piness. 
 
 The younger members of the society now proposed some 
 
206 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 active amusement. Wilhelm and Laertes accordingly took 
 their swords and began to practise as if engaged at a thea- 
 trical rehearsal. They went through the duel in which 
 Hamlet and his antagonist come to so tragical an end. They 
 both thought that in this important scene they ought not to 
 thrust at random, as actors generally do upon the stage ; 
 they wished to shew in the representation how they might 
 give the critic a proper lesson in the art of fencing. A 
 circle was made they fought with skill and ardour, and 
 the interest of the spectators was every moment on the 
 increase. 
 
 Suddenly a shot was heard in the neighbouring thicket, 
 it was succeeded by another ; the company dispersed in 
 alarm. Next moment a body of armed men rushed forward 
 to the place where the horses were grazing at no great 
 distance from the heavily laden carriages. 
 
 The women screamed, our heroes threw away their swords, 
 seized their pistols, and hastened towards the robbers with 
 loud threats, demanding satisfaction for their daring conduct. 
 
 As the answer was the sharp reply of a couple of shots, 
 "Wilhelm fired his pistol at a curly-headed youth who had 
 mounted the carriage and was cutting the ropes which se- 
 cured the luggage. He fell down wounded. Neither did 
 Laertes miss his man, and thus encouraged they both drew 
 their swords, when several of the robbers rushed upon them 
 with curses and imprecations, discharged their pistols at 
 them, and attacked them with their weapons. They de- 
 fended themselves bravely, calling to the rest of their com- 
 panions, and inciting them to make a bold resistance. 
 Suddenly AVilhelm lost the sight of day and all recollection 
 of what had taken place. He fell senseless from a shot 
 which struck him between the breast and the left arm,, 
 receiving at the same moment a blow from a sword which 
 cut through his hat and almost penetrated to his skull. He 
 was afterwards informed by others of the sad termination of 
 the adventure. 
 
 "When he opened his eyes he found himself in a strange 
 condition. The first object which he perceived through the 
 obscurity which still overspread his eyes, was Philina's face 
 bent closely over his. He felt weak, and making an exer- 
 tion to rise he fell into Philina's lap. She was sitting on 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 207 
 
 the grass. She had pressed the head of the surviving youth 
 softly to her bosom, and had made an easy couch for him 
 within her arms. Mignon was kneeling at his feet with 
 bloody and dishevelled hair, and she embraced him with a 
 flood of tears. 
 
 When Wilhelra observed his blood-stained clothes, he 
 inquired in broken accents where he was, and what had 
 occurred to them all ? Philina entreated him to remain 
 quiet. " All the others," she said, " are safe, and no one is 
 wounded but you and Laertes." She refused to give him 
 any further information, requesting earnestly that he would 
 continue quiet, as his wounds had been but hastily and 
 slightly dressed. He stretched out his hand to Mignon and 
 inquired why the locks of the child were stained with blood, 
 fancying that she also had been wounded. 
 
 To tranquillize him, Philina related how this grateful little 
 creature when she had seen her friend wounded, could think 
 in the confusion of nothing else with which to stop the 
 rushing of the blood, but of her own hair. It was flowing 
 loosely over her shoulders, and with this she sought to 
 staunch the wound, but was soon obliged to desist from the 
 vain attempt. When subsequently they bound up the gash 
 Avith lint and moss, Philina kindly lent her own handkerchief 
 for the purpose, 
 
 Wilhelm observed that Philina was'seated with her back 
 against her own trunk, which was well secured and locked, 
 and appeared to be still uninjured. He inquired if the rest 
 of the party had been equally fortunate in saving their pro- 
 perty ? She answered with a shrug of the shoulders and a 
 look across the meadow, where a medley of broken boxes, 
 fragments of trunks, ripped up carpet bags, and a multitude 
 of other articles lay in promiscuous confusion. There was 
 110 other person in the place, and the strange group I have 
 described remained alone in the solitude. 
 
 Wilhelm soon learned more than lie was pleased to hear. 
 Such of the party as were capable of making any resistance 
 had been quickly terrified and overpowered. Some of them 
 had fled and others had looked on in terror. The drivers, who 
 had fought hard to save their horses, were thrown down and 
 tied, and in a short time everything was rifled and carried 
 off. The luckless travellers as soon as they were relieved 
 
208 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 from the fear of death, began to mourn for the loss they had 
 sustained, and hastened with all possible speed to the nearest 
 village, taking Laertes, who had been but slightly wounded, 
 with them, and carrying away but few fragments of their 
 property. The harper had placed his injured harp against a 
 tree, and had accompanied them to the village, that he might 
 fetch a surgeon and return as quickly as possible to the 
 relief of his benefactor, whom he had left at the point of 
 death. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 IN the meantime our three unhappy adventurers remained 
 in their state of perplexity and distress, as no one returned 
 to their assistance. Evening approached and darkness was 
 coining rapidly on. The indifference of Philina began to 
 change to anxiety ; Mignon ran restlessly about, and the 
 impatience of the child increased every instant. At length 
 when pursuant to their wishes a body of men ap- 
 proached, the circumstance occasioned new alarm. They 
 distinctly heard the sound of a troop of horses coming 
 by the road which they had lately travelled over, and they 
 dreaded now lest a fresh company of uninvited guests should 
 visit the scene of action and possess themselves of all that 
 remained. 
 
 They were, however, most agreeably surprised to see a 
 young lady issue from the thicket, riding on a grey charger, 
 accompanied by an elderly gentleman and some younger 
 cavaliers, and followed by several grooms, servants, and a 
 troop of hussars. 
 
 Philina, who stared at this unexpected appearance, was 
 about to cry out, and entreat the fair Amazon to come to 
 their assistance, when the latter, looking with astonishment 
 at the extraordinary group, checked the speed of her horse, 
 rode slowly up to them, and finally halted. She inquired 
 eagerly after the wounded youth, whose position, as he re- 
 posed in the lap of this thoughtless Samaritan, appeared to 
 her more than usually strange. 
 
 " Is he your husband ?" inquired she of Philina. " Nothing 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 209 
 
 more than a kind friend," answered the latter, in a tone by no 
 means agreeable to Wilhelm. He had fixed his eyes upon 
 the soft, noble, calm, sympathizing features of the stranger, 
 and he thought that he had never seen any thing more 
 dignified or lovely. Her figure was concealed by the ample 
 folds of a man's cloak, which she appeared to have borrowed 
 from one of her attendants to protect her from the chill 
 evening air. 
 
 Her companions had by this time joined her. Some of 
 them alighted, the lady did the same, and she inquired with 
 kind interest into all the circumstances of the accident 
 which had befallen the travellers, asking particularly about 
 the wounds of the youth, who was reclining so helplessly 
 before her. She then turned quickly round, and accom- 
 panied by the old gentleman before-mentioned, she went 
 towards some carriages which were slowly ascending the hill, 
 until at length they drew up at the scene of action. 
 
 The young lady having stood at the door of one of the 
 carriages for a short time conversing with the inmates, a 
 gentleman of short stature stepped out, and was conducted 
 by her to our wounded hero. A small box and a leathern 
 case of instruments, which he carried in his hand, evidently 
 shewed that he was a surgeon. His manners were coarse 
 rather than polished, but his hand was light and his assist- 
 ance welcome. 
 
 He made a close examination of the sufferer, and having 
 pronounced that his wounds were not dangerous, he pro- 
 posed to dress them upon the spot, and recommended that 
 the youth should then be taken to the next village. 
 
 The anxiety of the young lady seemed to increase. " See," 
 she exclaimed, after she had paced backwards and forwards 
 several times ; " see how they have ill-used him ! And he 
 is suffering for our sakes !" Wilhelm overheard these words, 
 but could not comprehend their meaning. She still walked 
 restlessly about ; she seemed unable to leave the wounded 
 man, and yet she feared to violate decorum by remaining 
 any longer, as they had now commenced, with some diffi- 
 culty, to undress him. The surgeon had already cut open 
 his right sleeve, when the old gentleman approached, and in a 
 serious tone urged the necessity of continuing their journey. 
 "Wilhelm kept his eyes fixed upon the lady, and was so cap- 
 
210 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 tivated with her look, that he scarcely felt what had happened 
 to him. 
 
 Philina, in the meantime, had risen from the ground to 
 kiss the hand of the gracious lady. As they stood together, 
 our friend thought he had never seen so great a contrast. 
 Philina had never appeared to him in so unfavourable alight. 
 It seemed to him that she ought not to approach so near to 
 that noble creature, much less to touch her. 
 
 The lady made many inquiries of Philina, but in a low 
 tone of voice. At length she returned to the old gentleman, 
 who was standing by unmoved, and said, " My dear uncle, 
 may I be generous at your expense ?" Saying this, she 
 divested herself of the cloak, with the evident intention of 
 bestowing it upon the stripped and wounded youth. 
 
 Wilhelm, who had been hitherto spell bound by the kind 
 influence of her looks, was now astonished at the charm of 
 her lovely figure. She drew near and softly spread the 
 cloak over him. He made an effort to open his lips and to 
 stammer forth his thanks, when the strong impression of 
 her presence produced such an effect upon his mind, that 
 suddenly it seemed as if her head was encircled with rays, 
 and a brilliant light spread itself over her whole form. The 
 surgeon at this moment caused him to feel a keen sensation 
 of pain, by his endeavours to extract the bullet from his 
 wound. From the eyes of the fainting youth his angel 
 gradually disappeared, he lost all consciousness, and on 
 coming to his senses, the whole train of horsemen and car- 
 riages, as well as the beautiful lady and her attendants, had 
 completely disappeared. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 WILHELM' s wounds being dressed, the surgeon took his 
 departure just as the old harper was seen approaching, ac- 
 companied by a crowd of peasants. They soon constructed 
 a species of litter from the boughs of some trees which they 
 cut down, and interwoven with twigs, and under the guidance 
 of a mounted huntsman, whom the noble party had left be- 
 hind them, they carried him softly down the mountain. The 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 211 
 
 harper, silent and buried in thought, carried his broken 
 harp along with him, some of the attendants took charge of 
 Philina's trunk, while she herself followed with her bundle. 
 Mignon meanwhile ran on through bush and thicket, at one 
 moment preceding, and at another accompanying the party, 
 and ever casting a look of longing anxiety upon her wounded 
 protector. 
 
 Enveloped in the warm cloak, "Wilhelm lay peacefully 
 upon the litter. An electric glow appeared to flow from 
 the fine woo) of the garment, and to penetrate his whole 
 system ; in short, he experienced the most delightful sensa- 
 tions. The lovely owner of the cloak had worked upon his 
 feelings with extraordinary power. He once more saw the 
 garment falliug from her shoulders, and her beautiful form 
 enveloped in radiance seemed standing before him, and his 
 soul pursued her departing footsteps as she disappeared 
 amidst the surrounding rocks and forests. 
 
 Night was closing in when the party at length reached 
 the village and drew up at the door of the hotel where the 
 rest of the company had already arrived, and where, sunk in 
 despondency and gloom, they were bemoaning the grievous 
 losses which they had sustained. The solitary little apart- 
 ment which they occupied, was quite filled with people. 
 Some were lying upon straw, others had taken possession of 
 the benches or squeezed themselves behind the stove, whilst 
 in a neighbouring chamber, Madame Melina was painfully 
 expecting her accouchement. Fright had hastened the ca- 
 tastrophe, and with nothing more than the assistance of the 
 hostess, a young and inexperienced woman, no very favour- 
 able result could be expected. 
 
 There was a general expression of discontent when the 
 persons who had just arrived inquired if they could be ad- 
 mitted. Every one clamorously asserted that it was by 
 Wilhelm' s advice alone, and under his especial guidance, they 
 had undertaken this dangerous journey and exposed them- 
 selves to such a disaster. The fault of the whole misadven- 
 ture was laid upon him ; they therefore crowded round the 
 door to oppose his entrance, exclaiming that he must go 
 elsewhere for shelter. Philina met with a still harsher re- 
 ception, and the harper and Mignon had to endure their 
 share of the general discontent. 
 
212 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 The huntsman did not long bear this contention with 
 patience. The care of the forsaken party had been entrusted 
 to him by his beautiful mistress. He poured out a torrent 
 of oaths and threats upon the whole company, commanding 
 them to retire and to make way for the reception of the 
 others. They were at length gradually pacified. He pre- 
 pared a sort of bed for Wilhelm upon a table which he had 
 pushed into a corner. Philina placed her trunk near to it 
 and took her seat there. Each one arranged himself as com- 
 fortably as he could, and the huntsman retired to see if he 
 could not find more comfortable quarters for the young 
 married couple. 
 
 He had scarcely left the house before the discontent again 
 broke out, and a scene of general altercation ensued. They 
 all, in turn, related and exaggerated the ]osses they had sus- 
 tained, and blamed their own rashness for their severe mis- 
 fortunes. They made no secret of their malicious joy at 
 "Wilhelm's wounds, they sneered also at Philina, and adverted 
 to the criminal means by which she had succeeded in saving 
 her trunk. One might infer from a multitude of sarcasms 
 and ill-natured inuendoes, that during the contest and the 
 plundering which had taken place, she had insinuated herself 
 into the good graces of the Captain of the band, and had 
 induced him by certain arts and contrivances, to procure the 
 restoration of her trunk whole and intact. They insinuated 
 that she had been missing for a considerable time. To all 
 these ill-natured observations she made no reply. She merely 
 clanked the huge padlocks of her trunk, to -convince her 
 accusers more forcibly of its presence, and to increase their 
 desperation by a display of her own good fortune. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ALTHOUGH "Wilhelm had been weakened by the loss of 
 blood, and had been tranquillised in mind by the visit of that 
 guardian angel, he was however unable to bear the harsh and 
 unjust observations which his continued silence had en- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 213 
 
 couraged the discontented party to utter against him. At 
 length, he felt strong enough to sit up and to remonstrate 
 against their harsh conduct towards him, who had been their 
 friend and leader. He raised up his bandaged head, and 
 supporting himself with some difficulty by leaning against 
 the wall, he spoke his sentiments as follows. 
 
 " On account of the pain, which you suffer from your 
 losses, I forgive you for accusing me at a time when I rather 
 merit your compassion, and for opposing and resisting me 
 upon the first occasion that I have looked to you for help. 
 For the services and kindnesses which I have hitherto ren- 
 dered you, I have found a sufficient reward in your gratitude 
 and in your friendly demeanour towards myself but do not 
 constrain my thoughts, do not oblige me to retrace in 
 memory, all that I have done for you the remembrance 
 would be too painful. Accident led me to you, circumstances 
 and a secret inclination have kept me with you. I have 
 shared in all your labours and your pleasures, and my slight 
 abilities have always been at your command. If you now 
 censure me with severity for the accident which has befallen 
 us, do you not remember that the first proposal to take the 
 road we followed was made by strangers, that the project was 
 considered by all parties, and was approved by each of you 
 as heartily as by myself. If our journey had terminated 
 successfully, each of you would have praised the happy sug- 
 gestion which had advised this road in preference to any 
 other, he would have felt proud of reminding us of our de- 
 liberations and of the vote which he gave, but now you would 
 hold me alone responsible and compel me to endure a censure, 
 to which I should willingly submit, if my own clear con- 
 science did not pronounce me innocent, and if indeed I 
 might not boldly appeal to yourselves. If you have any 
 accusation to prefer against me, make it distinctly, and I 
 shall be able to defend myself, but if you have no well- 
 grounded charge to allege, maintain a proper silence, and do 
 not pain me at a moment when I have so much need of 
 rest." 
 
 In place of returning an answer, the maidens all began to 
 weep and to recount their losses circumstantially. Melina 
 w r as in a state of the greatest excitement, for his losses in 
 truth had been the most severe, greater indeed than we may 
 
214 WILUELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 venture to describe in detail. He paced the apartment like 
 a madman, knocked his head against the wall, and swore and 
 scolded in the most unseemly manner, and when the landlady 
 came from an adjoining apartment at this particular moment, 
 bearing the information that his wife had been delivered of 
 a still-born child, he broke out into the most violent fury, 
 and in conjunction with him, the whole household simul- 
 taneously howled, screamed, roared and bellowed. 
 
 "Wilhelm, who was wounded to the very soul with a feeling 
 ' of sympathy for their sufferings and pity for their debased 
 sentiments, felt the whole vigour of his mind aroused, not- 
 withstanding the weakness of his body. " However much I 
 may pity you," he exclaimed, " I fear I shall be compelled to 
 despise you,- no calamity can justify us in loading a guiltless 
 man with reproaches. If I have participated in the error of 
 this step, I have also shared in the consequent suffering. I 
 lie here bleeding from my wounds. And if the company has 
 sustained a loss, mine has been far greater than theirs. All 
 the wardrobe and the decorations of which we have been 
 plundered belonged to me, for you have not yet paid me for 
 them, Herr Melina, and I here fully acquit you from the 
 debt." 
 
 " It is easy," replied Melina, " to bestow what none of us 
 will ever see again. Your money lay at the bottom of my 
 wife's trunk, and if you have lost it, you alone are to blame 
 I wish, indeed, that that were the extent of our calamity !" 
 Hereupon he commenced to stamp, to scold, and to scream 
 anew. They all recalled to memory the gay clothes which 
 they had received from the wardrobe of the Count, and 
 mourned the loss of the buckles, the watches, the snuff-boxes, 
 and the hats, for which Melina had bargained so successfully 
 with the chief valet. Each one of them also remembered 
 his own private, but not less valuable treasures. They all 
 looked with rage at Philina's trunk, and gave Wilhelm to 
 understand that it was in truth no bad stroke of policy to 
 have connected himself with that fair personage, and saved 
 his goods by means of her good fortune. 
 
 " Do you suppose then," he exclaimed at length, " that I 
 shall retain any thing exclusively to myself so long as you 
 are in want ? And is this the first time that I shall have 
 honestly shared with you in time of need ? Open the trunk, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 215 
 
 and all that belongs to ine I will give up for the general wel- 
 fare/' 
 
 " The trunk is mine," exclaimed Philina, " and I will not 
 open it till I please. The trifles which belong to you and 
 which I have saved for you, are but of small value, and would 
 realize but little if sold to the most honest of Jews. Think 
 of yourself, of what your cure may cost you, and of all the 
 accidents which may happen to you in a strange country ." 
 
 4< Philina," answered Wilhelm, " you must retain nothing 
 that belongs to me, and the little of which you speak, will 
 suffice to extricate us from our more pressing difficulties. 
 But man possesses many things with which he may assist his 
 friends, besides actual money. All the powers I possess shall 
 be devoted to the service of these hapless persons, who as- 
 suredly when they reflect, must repent of their present con- 
 duct. Yes," he continued, " I feel that you are in want, and 
 as far as I am able, I will render you assistance. Confide in 
 me once more ; compose yourselves for a moment and accept 
 what I promise. Which of you will be the representative of 
 the whole company and accept iny engagement in the name 
 of all ?" 
 
 He held out his hand and exclaimed, " I promise not to 
 forsake you, not to abandon you, until each of you shall have 
 doubly and trebly repaired the loss which he has sustained, 
 till the lamentable condition into which you have fallen shall 
 be fully forgotten or exchanged for a more enviable lot." 
 
 He held his hand still stretched out, but none of them 
 would take it. " Once again, I promise ;" he exclaimed, 
 and sunk back exhausted upon his pillow. They all con- 
 tinued silent. They felt ashamed but were not comforted, 
 and Philina, seated upon her trunk, employed herself in 
 cracking nuts, a store of which she had found in her pocket. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THE huntsman soon returned accompanied by several 
 people, and they prepared now to remove the wounded youth. 
 The clergyman of the village had been persuaded to receive 
 
216 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 the young couple into his house. Philina' s trunk was there- 
 fore brought out, and she followed with a natural air of 
 dignity. Mignon ran on before, and upon Wilhelm's ar- 
 rival at the clergyman's house, a lars;e bed which had long 
 been devoted to receiving guests and persons of distinction 
 was assigned to him. It was now discovered that his wound 
 had opened afresh, and was bleeding profusely. It was 
 necessary to prepare a new bandage. The patient soon fell 
 into a state of fever ; Philina attended him devotedly, and 
 when she was overcome by fatigue, her place was taken by 
 the harper, whilst Mignon took up her quarters in a corner of 
 the apartment, with the firm resolution of watching him un- 
 weariedly. 
 
 On the following morning, when Wilhelm was somewhat 
 refreshed, he learned from the huntsman that the persons 
 who had assisted them yesterday, had left their country seat 
 a short time previously, to avoid the movements of the hostile 
 armies, with the intention of retiring to some quiet spot, 
 until peace should be restored. He communicated the name 
 of the old gentleman and also that of his niece, and informed 
 him of the place to which, in the first instance, they were 
 going, and he stated moreover, that the young lady had 
 specially enjoined him to take care of the destitute Wilhelm. 
 
 The arrival of the surgeon interrupted the warm declara- 
 tions of gratitude in which our friend was giving expression 
 to his feelings. He made a particular examination of his 
 patient's wounds, and assured him that they would heal 
 rapidly if "Wilhelm would only abstain from all excitement. 
 
 The huntsman having now departed, Philina stated that 
 he had given her a purse containing twenty louis d'ors, that 
 he had also remunerated the clergyman for his lodging, and 
 had left money to defray the surgeon's bill. As she was 
 looked upon as Wilhelm's wife, she requested permission 
 once for all to act in that capacity, and she would under no 
 circumstances permit another nurse to be engaged. 
 
 " Philina," said Wilhelm, " I am beyond measure indebted 
 to you for the kindness which you have evinced to\vards me 
 in the disaster that has befallen us, but I am unwilling that 
 the weight of my obligations should be increased. I am 
 unhappy so long as you are near me, for I know not how I 
 can repay you for your trouble. Give me my things which 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 217 
 
 you have saved for me in your trunk join the rest of the 
 company find out another apartment accept my thanks 
 and my gold watch as an inadequate testimony of my grati- 
 tude, and leave me your presence is more distressing to me 
 than you can easily believe." 
 
 When he had ended, she burst into a loud fit of laughter. 
 " You are a silly mortal," she cried, " and will never have 
 sense. I know better than you what is good for you. I 
 shall remain, and 1 do not intend to stir from this spot. I 
 have never counted much upon the gratitude of mankind, 
 and I do not therefore expect much from you but if I feel 
 a kindness for you, why should you complain ?" 
 
 She accordingly remained, and soon grew into favour with 
 the clergyman and his family ; her disposition was ever cheer- 
 ful, she was perpetually making little presents, she could 
 humour every one according to his fancy, and yet she 
 ul ways contrived to have her own way. Wilhelm, under all 
 circumstances, found him sol ['comfortable. The surgeon, an ig- 
 norant but not an unskilful man, allowed nature to take its 
 own course, and the patient was soon in a fair way of recovery. 
 Anxiously did he desire this consummation, that he might 
 be at liberty to pursue his plans and to gratify his wishes. 
 
 Incessantly he thought of that event which had made an 
 indelible impression upon his mind. Again he saw the 
 beautiful amazon riding from the thicket, approaching to- 
 wards him, alighting from her horse, walking to and fro, and 
 endeavouring to serve him. He saw the garment in which 
 she was enveloped fall from her shoulders, and her coun- 
 tenance and her figure beaming with a bright radiance. All 
 his dreams of youth were concentrated upon this image. 
 He fancied that at length he was permitted to behold with 
 his own eyes the heroic Clorinda, and he once more dwelt in 
 imagination on that royal youth, whose sick bed the beautiful 
 sympathizing Princess had watched with so much silent 
 modesty. 
 
 " In youth and in sleep," he would often say to himself, 
 " may not the images of coming destiny hover round us, and 
 become mysteriously visible to our unimpeded sight ? May 
 not the seeds of future events be already scattered by the 
 hand of fate, and may it not be possible for us to enjoy a 
 foretaste of the fruits which we hope one day to gather ?" 
 
 His sick couch afforded him an opportunity of renewing 
 
218 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 those visions a thousand times. Often would he recall the 
 tones of that sweet voice, and envy Philina, who had kissed 
 that helping hand. Often did the whole incident appear to 
 him as a dream, and he would have considered it a very fiction 
 if the cloak had not remained with him as evidence of the 
 reality of the vision. 
 
 He bestowed the greatest possible care upon this garment, 
 and yet he felt an indescribable anxiety to wear it. As soon 
 as he arose, therefore, he put it on, but trembled during the 
 entire day, lest it might in any manner receive the slightest 
 stain or injury. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LAERTES visited his friend he had not been present at that 
 animated scene in the hotel, having been confined to bed at the 
 time in an upper chamber. He was altogether indifferent 
 about the loss which he had sustained, and he found relief in 
 his customary exclamation of *' What does it signify ?" He 
 related many droll stories of the whole company, and accused 
 Madame Melina of lamenting the loss of her daughter, solely 
 because she could not now enjoy the pleasure of having a 
 Mathilda christened. As for her husband, it now appeared 
 that he had all along possessed a large supply of money, and 
 had by no means needed the advance of which he had defrauded 
 Wilhelm. It was Melina' s intention to set out by the first 
 public conveyance, and to ask Wilhelm for a letter of intro- 
 duction to the manager Serlo, in whose company, since the 
 present undertaking had proved a failure, he was anxious to 
 secure an engagement. 
 
 Mignon had been very quiet for some days, and when she 
 was questioned upon the subject, she confessed with reluc- 
 tance that her right arm was dislocated. "You have to 
 thank your own rashness for it," cried Philina, and she then 
 narrated how the child, when she saw her friend in danger, 
 had drawn her sword and attacked the robbers fiercely. At 
 length one of them had seized her by the arm and forced her 
 away. She was scolded for not having spoken of her injury 
 before, but it was easily seen that she had been afraid of the 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 219 
 
 surgeon, who had hitherto always taken her fora boy. They 
 applied immediate remedies for her relief, and she was com- 
 pelled to place her arm in a sling. She was dissatisfied, how- 
 ever, with this arrangement, as she was compelled to abandon 
 to Philina the greater part of the nursing of Wilhelm, an 
 alternative for which that pretty sinner was both thankful 
 and attentive. 
 
 One morning w r hen Wilhelm awoke, he found himself in 
 strange proximity to her. In his restless sleep he had 
 changed his position, and was lying at the foot of his large 
 bed. Philina was reclining across the upper part of it she 
 seemed to have fallen asleep while she was sitting upon the 
 bed and reading. A book had fallen from her hand, she was 
 leaning back and her head was resting close to his breast, 
 over which her fair and dishevelled hair was flowing in 
 streams. The disorder of sleep had enlivened her charms 
 more than art or design could have done, and an innocent 
 smile of repose had spread over her soft countenance. He 
 looked at her for a considerable time, and seemed to censure 
 himself for the pleasure with which he surveyed her. He 
 was engaged thus for some time, w r hen she began to awake. 
 He closed his eyes softly, but he could not help still looking 
 towards her as she rose from the bed, and commenced to 
 arrange her person and retired to make preparations for the 
 breakfast. 
 
 The whole company of actors had in turn paid their visits 
 to Wilhelm, and had asked for money and letters of recom- 
 mendation with more or less impatience or rudeness. All 
 their requests had been complied with, notwithstanding the 
 remonstrances of Philina, who vainly assured our friend that 
 the huntsman had left a considerable sum for these people, 
 and that they were only imposing on his kindness. An 
 angry altercation now arose between them, and Wilhelm 
 signified once for all, that she must now join the rest of the 
 company and seek her fortune with Serlo. 
 
 She lost her temper for a few minutes, but quickly re- 
 covering herself, she replied, " If I only had my fair-haired 
 favourite again, I should not care much for any of you." 
 She alluded to Friedrich, who had disappeared on the field of 
 battle, and had not since been heard of. 
 
 On the following morning, Mignon informed Wilhelm 
 
220 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 before he rose, that Philina had gone away during the night, 
 having previously left all that belonged to our friend very 
 neatly laid out in the adjoining chamber. He was distressed 
 at her absence, for in her he was deprived of a faithful atten- 
 dant and a cheerful companion, and he had now lost the habit 
 of living alone. Mignon, however, soon filled up the blank. 
 As long as the frivolous Philina had continued to attend 
 the patient with assiduous care, little Mignon had gradually 
 withdrawn herself, remaining silent and absorbed in her own 
 thoughts ; but now when the field was again clear, she was 
 once more zealous in her attentions and her love, and was 
 both anxious to serve and eager to entertain Wilhelm. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 WILHELM'S improvement was rapid, and he hoped that he 
 would be able in a few days to set out upon his intended 
 journey. He was determined no longer to lead an aimless 
 indecisive life, and resolved that his future career should have 
 some precise object in view. But, in the first place, he was 
 anxious to seek out the party of travellers from whom he had 
 received such timely assistance, in order that he might give 
 expression to his gratitude, and then he would hasten to his 
 friend the manager, that he might provide for the luckless 
 company, and at the same time he would visit the commercial 
 friends, to whom he had letters of introduction, and transact 
 the business which had been entrusted to him. He hoped 
 that fortune would continue to smile upon him as before, and 
 afford him an opportunity, by some favourable speculation, to 
 repair his losses and supply his empty treasury. 
 
 His anxiety once more to behold his beautiful deliverer 
 increased daily. Accordingly he took counsel with the 
 clergyman about his intended route. The latter was skilled 
 in geographical and statistical knowledge, and had a respect- 
 able collection of books and maps. They looked for the place 
 where the noble family intended to reside during the con- 
 tinuance of the war, and they sought for some information 
 concerning the family itself, but the place was not marked in 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 221 
 
 any geography or map, and the books of heraldry made no 
 mention of their name. 
 
 Wilhelm grew impatient, and having mentioned the cause 
 of his uneasiness, the harper stated that he had reason to 
 believe that the huntsman had been actuated by some secret 
 motive for concealing all authentic information. 
 
 Wilhelm, however, who now thought that he was really 
 in the neighbourhood of his lovely benefactress, hoped to 
 obtain some news of her, from the harper, if the latter 
 were commissioned to make inquiries. But in this expec- 
 tation he was disappointed. In spite of all his diligence, the 
 old man could obtain no information. A variety of rapid 
 movements and unexpected marches had lately taken jplace 
 in the neighbourhood, no one had paid any attention to a 
 particular travelling party, and the aged messenger, fearing to 
 be taken for a Jewish spy, was obliged to return without the 
 olive branch, to the abode of his lord and master. He gave 
 an accurate account of his commission, from an anxiety to 
 dispel all suspicion of neglect or indifference. He sought by 
 every means to assuage the grief of our friend, thought of all 
 that the huntsman had communicated to him, and offered 
 many suggestions of his own, thereby clearly establishing one 
 fact, which enabled Wilhelm to explain' certain mysterious 
 expressions of his beautiful benefactress. 
 
 it appeared that the band of robbers had intended to 
 attack, not the wandering comedians, but the party of noble 
 traveDers, with whom they had naturally expected to find a 
 large supply of gold and treasures, and of whose movements 
 they must have received accurate information. It appeared 
 doubtful, however, whether the attack should be ascribed to 
 a party of soldiers or to mere freebooters and robbers. 
 But a lucky accident, which saved the rich and respectable 
 party, had brought the poor actors first to the scene of action, 
 and they suffered the fate which had been intended for 
 the others. It was to this circumstance that the expression 
 of the young lady referred, which "Wilhelm still accurately 
 remembered. And if he now felt happy and contented that a 
 benevolent genius had destined him for sacrifice, in order to 
 preserve so perfect a being, he was nevertheless reduced to 
 despair by the thought, that all hope of seeing her again 
 had for ever vanished. 
 
222 WILHLLM MEISTER'S 
 
 His strange emotion was still farther increased, by the 
 resemblance which he thought he had discovered between 
 the Countess and his beautiful unknown. They resembled 
 each other as sisters may do, of whom it is impossible to say 
 which is the elder and which is the younger, for they appear 
 to be twins. 
 
 His remembrance of the amiable Countess was indescrib- 
 ably sweet. With delight he recalled her image to his 
 memory. But the figure of the noble Amazon quickly inter- 
 vened, one vision disappearing and changing into the other, 
 without permitting him to retain firmly the impress of either. 
 How astonishing then must the resemblance between their 
 handwriting have appeared to him ! He had preserved in his 
 portfolio a charming song, which had been written for him 
 by the Countess, and in the pocket of the cloak, he had found 
 a little note, containing kind inquiries about the health of an 
 uncle. 
 
 Wilhelm felt convinced that his preserver had written this 
 note upon her journey, and had transmitted it from one 
 apartment of their hotel to another, and that it had been 
 placed in the pocket of the cloak by her uncle. He compared 
 the two handwritings together, and if the neat and regular 
 letters of the Countess had already pleased him extremely, 
 he found in the similar but yet bolder character of the un- 
 known, a flow of inexpressible harmony. The note contained 
 nothing, and yet the letters seemed to affect him as strongly 
 as the presence of his beautiful friend had formerly done. 
 
 He fell into a dreamy state of longing, and just at that 
 moment Mignon and the harper commenced to sing an ir- 
 regular duet, which was completely in accordance with his 
 feelings. 
 
 He only N who has loved, 
 
 Knows grief like mine, 
 From hope and joy removed, 
 
 Alone, I pine ! 
 Around with longing eyes 
 
 I look all day, 
 AVhile he, whose heart I prize, 
 
 Is far away ! 
 From every joy removed, 
 
 I faint I pine 
 He only who has loved 
 Knows grief like mine. 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 223 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE soft allurements of his sweet guardian angel, in place 
 of leading our friend along any certain path, only increased 
 the restlessness which he had before experienced. A secret 
 fire glowed within his veins, determined and undetermined 
 objects appeared alternately before his mind, and awoke 
 endless longings within his inmost soul. At one moment he 
 wished that he possessed a horse, and at another that he 
 were furnished with wings, and when at length he felt it 
 wholly impossible that he could remain, he began to inquire 
 for the first time to what place he should betake himself. 
 
 The thread of his destiny had become so mysteriously en- 
 tangled, that he wished to see its strange knots untied or cut 
 asunder. Frequently upon hearing the footsteps of a horse, 
 or the wheels of a carriage, he would hasten to the window, 
 hoping that some visitor had arrived, who might by chance 
 bring him happy news, to make him joyful and contented. 
 He would amuse himself with fancying that perhaps his friend 
 "Werner might visit the neighbourhood, or that even Mariana 
 might appear. He was agitated by the sound of every post- 
 horn. It might perchance bring intelligence of Melina's ad- 
 ventures, or it might be the huntsman returning to invite 
 him to an interview with his beautiful adored. 
 
 But all these fancies ended in nothing, and he was soon 
 compelled to content himself once more with solitude. As 
 he now pondered over the past, there was one circumstance, 
 which the more he viewed and considered it, the more it 
 troubled and oppressed him, and that was his display of un- 
 successful generalship, a circumstance upon which he could 
 not think without vexation. For notwithstanding that he 
 had defended himself skilfully when he had been accused by 
 the company on the evening of that unfortunate day, he 
 could not deny his guilt ; and in some moments of melan- 
 choly, he rather attributed to himself the entire misfortune 
 which had happened. 
 
 Self-love pourtrays our virtues and our vices in exaggerated 
 forms. AVilhelm thought he had inspired the company with 
 confidence in himself, and that he had directed their actions, 
 
224 WILHELM MEISTEK'S 
 
 till under the influence of rashness and inexperience, a panic 
 had seized them, against which they were unable to contend. 
 Loud and silent reproaches had then pursued him, and when 
 he had promised the misguided company that he would never 
 abandon them till their losses had been amply repaid, he had 
 to regret another folly in taking upon himself the sole re- 
 sponsibility of a calamity which was general. At one time he 
 blamed himself for making this promise under the excitement 
 of the moment, and then he felt that his extended hand, 
 which no one had deigned to accept, was but an empty cere- 
 mony compared with the vow which his heart had 'sworn. 
 He formed plans for rendering himself kind and useful to 
 them, and everything suggested that he should pay an imme- 
 diate visit to Serlo. He forthwith packed up his things, and 
 without waiting for his perfect recovery, and regardless of the 
 advice of the clergyman and the surgeon, accompanied by 
 Mignon and the old harper, he determined to fly from a life 
 of inactivity, in which his destiny had again too long con- 
 fined him. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 SERLO received him with open arms, exclaiming, " Do I 
 behold you and recognize you once again? You are but 
 little altered. Is your love for our noble art ias strong and 
 lively as ever ? I am rejoiced at your arrival, because I can 
 now no longer feel the mistrust with which your last letter 
 inspired me." 
 
 "Wilhelm, much surprised, asked for a clearer explanation. 
 
 " You have acted towards me," said Serlo, " like an old 
 friend. You have treated me like a great lord, to whom 
 one may venture to recommend useless people, with a safe 
 conscience. Our fate depends upon the judgment of the 
 public, and I am afraid Melina and his company can scarcely 
 be admitted amongst us." 
 
 Wilhelm was about to say something in their favour, but 
 Serlo commenced to give so merciless a description of them, 
 that our friend was pleased when the entrance of a young 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 225 
 
 lady interrupted the conversation, and she was introduced 
 to him by his friend, as his sister Aurelia. She received him 
 in the kindest manner, and her conversation was so agreeable 
 that he did not once perceive a certain shade of sorrow 
 which imparted a peculiar interest to her expressive coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 JFor the first time, since a long period, Wilhelm found 
 himself once more in his proper element. Of late his con- 
 versation had been listened to by those who were attentive 
 by compulsion, but now he had the happiness of speaking 
 with critics and artists, who not only fully comprehended 
 him, but whose conversation was instructive in return. 
 With eager rapidity they spoke of all the latest pieces and 
 pronounced judgment upon them with decision. They knew 
 how to try and estimate the judgment of the public, and they 
 speedily explained their mutual opinions. 
 
 In deference to Wilhelm' s love for Shakspeare, their con- 
 versation soon turned upon that author. He assured Serlo 
 that he lonkrd forward with the fondest hopes to the epoch 
 which would arise in Germany from his incomparable produc- 
 tions, and he soon introduced the character of Hamlet, with 
 which lu k had been much occupied of late. 
 
 Serlo declared that if it had been possible, he would long 
 since have performed that celebrated piece, and that he 
 himself would willingly have played the character of Polonius. 
 And then he added with a smile we should have been able 
 to find an Ophelia, had we only been provided with a Prince. 
 
 Wilhelm did not observe that Aurelia seemed a little 
 displeased at her brother's raillery. In accordance with his 
 usual habit, he was becoming talkative and instructive, and he 
 wished to explain how he would have Hamlet performed. 
 He stated in detail the result of his reflections upon the 
 subject, and was at much pains to render his opinions accept- 
 able, notwithstanding Serlo's doubts as to the correctness of 
 his views. " But," exclaimed the latter at length, " supposing 
 we admit all that you have said, what further explanation 
 have you to add ?" 
 
 " I have much to add," replied Wilhelm. " Picture to 
 yourself a prince, such as I have described him, whose father 
 has died suddenly. Ambition and the love of rule are not 
 the passions which inspire him. He would have been 
 
 Q 
 
226 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 satisfied witli knowing that he was the offspring of a king. 
 But now he is compelled for the first time to notice the 
 difference between a monarch and a subject. His right to 
 the throne was not hereditary, yet his father's longer life 
 would have strengthened the claims of his only son, and 
 secured his hopes of the crown. But he now sees himself 
 excluded by his uncle perhaps for ever, in spite of all his 
 specious promises. Destitute of all things and of favour, he 
 is a stranger in the very place which from his youth he had 
 considered as his own possession. At this point his dis- 
 position takes the first tinge of melancholy. He feels that 
 now he is not more, but rather less, than a private nobleman. 
 He becomes the servant of every one, and yet he is not 
 courteous nor condescending, but degraded and needy. 
 
 " His past condition appears to him like a vanished dream. 
 In vain does his uncle seek to console him, and to display 
 his prospects in another light. The consciousness of his 
 nothingness will not abandon him. 
 
 " The second blow that struck him, inflicted a deeper wound 
 and bowed him to the earth. It was the marriage of his 
 mother. After the death of his father, the true and tender 
 son had yet a mother left, and he hoped that in the company 
 of this noble parent, he might honour the heroic form of his 
 deceased father, but he lost her also, and that by a more cruel 
 fate than if he had been deprived of her by death. The 
 hopeful picture which an affectionate child loves to form of 
 his parents has for ever vanished. The dead can afford 
 him no assistance and in the living he finds no constancy. 
 She too is a woman and owns the frailty which belongs to 
 all her sex. 
 
 " He feels for the first time that he is forsaken, that he is 
 an orphan, and that no worldly happiness can restore to him 
 what he has lost. Naturally, neither sorrowful nor reflective, 
 sorrow and reflection now become to him a grievous burden. 
 Thus it is that he appears before us. I do not think I have 
 introduced into the character any thing that does not 
 belong to it, or that I have exaggerated it in any respect." 
 
 Serlo looked at his sister and observed : " Have I given 
 you a false account of our friend ? He has begun well, and 
 he will continue to inform and to persuade us." 
 
 Wilhelni declared loudly that he did not wish to per- 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 227 
 
 suade, but to convince ; and he asked for another moment's 
 patience. 
 
 " Think of this youth," he exclaimed, " think of this 
 prince vividly reflect upon his condition and then observe 
 him, when he learns that his father's spirit has appeared. 
 Accompany him during that fearful night when the venerable 
 ghost addresses him. A shuddering horror seizes him he 
 speaks to the mysterious form it beckons to him, he follows 
 and listens. The dreadful accusation of his uncle echoes in 
 his ears, the injunction to revenge, and the imploring sup- 
 plication again and again repeated, ' remember me !' 
 
 " And when the ghost has vanished, whom do we see stand- ' 
 ing before us ? a young hero panting for revenge ? a prince 
 by birth who feels proud that he is enjoined to punish the 
 usurper of his crown ? No, astonishment and perplexity 
 confound the solitary youth he vents the bitterness of his 
 soul against smiling villains swears never to forget his 
 father's departed spirit, and concludes with the expression of 
 deep regret that 
 
 4 The time is out of joint cursed spite, 
 That ever I was born to set it right !' 
 
 " It seems to me that in these words will be found the key 
 to Hamlet's whole course of conduct, and it is evident that 
 Shakspeare meant to describe a great duty imposed upon a 
 soul unable to perform it. And in this sense I find that 
 the whole play is conceived and worked out. An oak-tree 
 is planted in a costly vase, which should only have borne 
 beautiful flowers in its bosom, the roots expand and the 
 vase is shattered. 
 
 " A lovely, pure, noble and highly moral being, without the 
 strength of mind which forms a hero, sinks beneath a load 
 which it cannot bear and must not renounce. He views 
 every duty as holy, but this one is too much for him. He is 
 called upon to do what is impossible, not impossible in itself, 
 but impossible to him. And as he turns and winds and 
 torments himself, still advancing and retreating, ever re- 
 minded and remembering his purpose, he almost loses sight 
 of it completely, without ever recovering his happiness." 
 
228 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 SEVERAL people now entered who interrupted the con- 
 versation. They were amateurs who were accustomed to 
 attend a small concert once a week at Serlo's house. He 
 was partial to music and frequently asserted that an actor 
 without a love of music could not possibly have a clear con- 
 ception or proper feeling for his art. " As a man acts," he 
 would say, ' with more ease and dignity, when his motions 
 are accompanied and influenced by music, so should he 
 arrange his prose parts in his own mind, that he may not 
 slur them over monotonously in a manner of his own, but 
 may deliver them with proper alternation of time and 
 measure." 
 
 Aurelia appeared to take but little interest in what was 
 going on, but at length she led Wilhelm into another apart- 
 ment, and when she had taken him to the window and looked 
 out upon the starry heaven, she exclaimed, " You owe us the 
 conclusion of Hamlet. I do not wish to press you, for I am 
 anxious that my brother should hear you as well as myself, 
 but pray let me hear your thoughts about Ophelia." 
 
 " There is not much to be said about her," replied 
 Wilhelm, " for her character is drawn by a few master-strokes. 
 Her whole existence flows in sweet and ripe sensation. Her 
 attachment to the Prince, to whose hand she may aspire, 
 flows so spontaneously, her affectionate heart yields so com- 
 pletely to its impulse, that both her father and brother 
 are afraid, and both give her plain and direct warning of her 
 danger. Decorum, like the thin crape upon her bosom, 
 cannot conceal the motions of her heart, but on the contrary 
 it betrays them. Her imagination is engaged, her silent 
 modesty breathes a sweet desire, and if the convenient 
 goddess Opportunity should shake the tree, the fruit would 
 quickly fall/' 
 
 " And then," said Aurelia, " when she sees herself forsaken, 
 rejected and despised, when everything is overturned in the 
 soul of her distracted lover, and he offers her the bitter 
 goblet of sorrow in place of the sweet cup of affection 
 
 " Her heart breaks," cried "Wilhelm, " the entire edifice of 
 her being is loosened from its hold, the death of her father 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 229 
 
 knocks fearfully against it and the whole structure is over- 
 turned." 
 
 Wilhelm had not perceived with what an expression 
 Aurelia pronounced these last words. His mind was wholly 
 absorbed in the work of art, whose connexion and completeness 
 filled his thoughts, he never suspected that his fair friend 
 felt quite another influence, and that his dramatic sketches 
 had awakened a deep sorrow within her bosom. 
 
 Aurelia' s head was still resting upon her arm, and her 
 eyes filled with tears were directed to the heavens. At 
 length she could restrain her grief no longer, she seized our 
 friend by both his hands, and exclaimed as he stood astonished 
 before her, " Forgive, forgive an anguished heart ! This 
 company confines and restrains me. I must endeavour to 
 conceal myself from my unfeeling brother, your presence has 
 burst my bonds. My friend/' she continued, " our acquain- 
 tance has but this moment commenced, and already you 
 are my confidant." She had scarcely pronounced these 
 words, when she sank upon his shoulder. " Do not judge 
 harshly of me," she continued with a sobbing voice, " because 
 I explain myself so quickly and you have been a witness of 
 my weakness. Be my friend, continue so I shall deserve 
 it from you." He consoled her in the kindest manner, but 
 in vain, her tears flowed and choked her utterance. 
 
 Serlo entered at this moment and was most unwelcome. 
 He was accompanied unexpectedly by Philina, whom he held 
 by the hand. " Behold your friend," he said, "he will wel- 
 come you gladly." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed "Wilhelm with astonishment, "do I 
 see you here ?" She approached him with a modest and 
 composed look, bade him welcome and praised Serlo's kind- 
 ness, who in the hope that she would improve, although she 
 possessed no merits of her own, had received her into his 
 accomplished company of actors. She was friendly towards 
 Wilhelm, but conducted herself with dignified reserve. 
 
 Her dissimulation however only continued so long as the 
 others were present. Aurelia soon retired to conceal her 
 sorrow, and Serlo in a short time was also summoned away, 
 whereupon Philina looked closely towards the door, to make 
 sure that they had both really departed, and then commenced 
 dancing about the room like a wild thing, till at length she 
 
230 WILHELM MEISTEK'S 
 
 threw herself upon the floor, and went almost into fits with 
 laughter. She then rose and commenced coaxing WilheJm, 
 expressing the most unbounded joy that she had been wise 
 enough to precede him to explore the country, and to 
 establish herself in snug quarters. 
 
 " Things go on charmingly here," she cried, "just in the 
 way I like Aurelia has had an unfortunate love affair with 
 a nobleman, who must be a splendid fellow and whom I 
 must manage to see. If I am not much mistaken, he has 
 left her a memorial. There is a little fellow here about three 
 years old, as bright as the sun the papa must be uncom- 
 monly handsome ; I seldom care for children, but this little 
 fellow quite enchants me. I have found her out. The death 
 of her husband, the new acquaintance, the age of the child, 
 every thing agrees. 
 
 " But her friend is gone now. He has not seen her for a 
 year. She is in despair and inconsolable. The fool ! Her 
 brother has a dancing girl among his actors with whom he 
 is on intimate terms, and an actress in addition, to whom he 
 is engaged, there are some ladies also in the town whom he 
 visits, and now I am on his list. The fool ! You shall hear 
 of the others to-morrow. And now one little word about 
 Philina, whom you know. The arch-simpleton is in love 
 with you." She swore it was true and called it a rare joke, 
 and pressed Wilhelm earnestly to fall in love with Aurelia, 
 as then the chase would be rich in the extreme. " She will 
 pursue her inconstant swain, you her, I you, and her brother 
 me. If that does not afford sport for six months I will 
 consent to die at the first episode in this four-fold compli- 
 cated tale." She implored him not to ruin her prospects, 
 and to pay her as much respect as her conduct in public 
 should deserve. 
 
 CHAPTEE XY. 
 
 Off the following morning "Wilhelm visited Madame 
 Melina, but she was not at home, and upon making inquiries 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 231 
 
 for the other members of the wandering company, he learned 
 that Philina had invited them to a breakfast. He joined 
 the party from motives of curiosity, and found them all 
 happy and in good spirits. The cunning girl had assembled 
 them together and was feasting them with chocolate. She 
 informed them at the same time, that there were good hopes 
 in store for them, as she expected, by means of her influence, 
 to persuade the manager that it would be greatly to his 
 advantage to have such clever performers in his company. 
 They listened to her with attention, drank one cup of 
 chocolate after another, decided that the girl was not so bad 
 a creature after all, and determined to speak w r ell of her in 
 future. 
 
 " Do you suppose then," said Wilhelm who remained 
 behind with Philina, " that Serlo will engage all our com- 
 panions ?" "By no means,' ' replied 'Philina, " nor does that 
 thought trouble me in the least, the sooner they go the 
 better. I only wish for Laertes the rest we can easily 
 dispense with." 
 
 She endeavoured then to persuade Wilhelm no longer to 
 bury his talents in obscurity, but to appear upon the stage 
 under the direction of Serlo. She praised the order, the 
 taste and the spirit which were there displayed, and spoke 
 so flatteringly to our friend of his abilities, that his heart 
 and imagination were captivated by her proposal, although 
 his reason and understanding condemned it. But he hid 
 his wishes from himself, and from Philina, and passed a 
 restless day. He could not even resolve to visit his business 
 correspondents and to receive the letters which might be 
 waiting for him. And though he could easily conjecture 
 the anxiety of his friends about him all this time, he avoided 
 seeking for precise information respecting them, especially 
 as he expected a great enjoyment in the evening from the 
 performance of a new piece. 
 
 Serlo had declined to admit him to the rehearsals. " You 
 must become acquainted with us on the best side," he 
 observed, "before we allow you to look over our cards." 
 
 On the following evening, however, Wilhelm attended 
 the performance with the greatest delight. It was the first 
 time that he had seen a theatre in such perfection. It was 
 generally allowed that the actors possessed considerable 
 
232 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 talents, many happy qualities and a clear and exalted idea 
 of their art, but they were not equal, though they mutually 
 maintained, supported and encouraged each other, and in 
 the entire of their acting they were steady and correct. It 
 was soon evident that Serlo was the soul of the whole, and 
 he generally appeared to much advantage. A cheerful dis- 
 position, a moderate vivacity, a correct feeling of propriety, 
 accompanied by considerable imitative powers, were evident 
 as soon as he entered upon the stage and commenced to 
 speak. His internal satisfaction with himself seemed to 
 extend itself to all his hearers, arid the talented manner with 
 which he so easily and pleasantly expressed the most delicate 
 shadowings of the characters he played, awakened the 
 greater delight, as he knew how to conceal the art, in which 
 through long practice, he excelled. 
 
 His sister Aurelia was by no means his inferior, and 
 indeed she received a larger share of approbation than Serlo 
 himself, for she succeeded in moving the hearts of the spec- 
 tators, while it was his aim merely to gratify and amuse. 
 
 After spending a few pleasant days, Aurelia inquired for 
 Wilhelm. He hastened to her, and found her reclining upon 
 a sofa. She seemed to be suffering from headache, and her 
 whole appearance manifested a tendency to fever. Her 
 eyes sparkled at the sight of Wilhelm. "Pardon me," she 
 exclaimed, " the confidence with which you have inspired 
 me, has made me weak. Till now I could bear my 
 sorrows in silence, and could even find strength and comfort 
 in them, but now, I know not how it has occurred, you have 
 caused me to confide in you, and you must, however re- 
 luctantly, take part in the battle which I am fighting against 
 myself." 
 
 Wilhelm replied in a friendly and obliging tone. He 
 assured her that he was perpetually haunted by her image 
 and her woes, he implored her confidence and promised to 
 devote himself to her friendship. 
 
 His eyes, whilst he spoke, were attracted by a child that 
 was seated on the ground before him, engaged in playing 
 with all sorts of toys. He might be, as Philina had already- 
 said, about three years old, and Wilhelm now understood 
 why the thoughtless girl, whose expressions were so seldom 
 elevated, had likened him to the sun. His clear eyes and 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 233 
 
 open countenance were shaded by the most beautiful golden 
 locks, and his dark delicate and softly bending eyebrows 
 adorned a forehead of glittering whiteness, while the ruddy 
 hues of health glowed upon his cheeks. " Sit down beside 
 me," said Aurelia. " You contemplate the happy child 
 with astonishment, with joy. I take him in my arms and 
 watch him with care, he alone is the measure of my suffer- 
 ings, for they seldom allow me to estimate the value of such 
 a gift." 
 
 " Allow me," she continued, " to converse with you about 
 myself and my fate. For I am above all things anxious 
 that you should not misunderstand me. I hoped to enjoy a 
 few calm moments and therefore I have invited you hither, 
 but now that you are come, I have lost the thread of my 
 discourse. ' Another forsaken creature in the world !' I 
 think I hear you say. You are a man and doubtless you 
 think in this wise. 'How she distresses herself about 
 a necessary evil the infidelity of men, which awaits a 
 woman as certainly as death. The fool !' But, my friend, 
 if mine were a common fate, I would bear my calamity 
 without a murmur. But it is so singular, why cannot I shew 
 it to you in a mirror, why cannot I commission another to 
 explain it ! Had I been seduced, surprised and then forsaken, 
 I should find consolation in despair, but my calamity is more 
 grievous still I have deceived myself, unknowingly I have 
 proved my 'own betrayer and that is what I never can 
 forgive." 
 
 " With feelings so noble as yours," observed Wilhelm, 
 "you can never be wholly unhappy." 
 
 " And are you aware to what I am indebted for my 
 feelings?" inquired Aurelia. " To the most vicious educa- 
 tion that could contaminate an innocent maiden to the 
 worst example that could be given for the seduction of the 
 senses and inclinations. 
 
 " After the early death of my mother, the best years of 
 my youth were spent with an aunt, who made it a rule to 
 despise the laws of decency. Blindly she abandoned herself 
 to every inclination, careless whether she commanded or 
 obeyed its object, provided she could forget herself in the 
 wildest enjoyments. 
 
 " Conceive what ideas of men, we children must have 
 
234 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 formed, with, our pure, clear notions of innocence ! How 
 rude, bold and unmannerly was every one whom she attracted 
 to her ! How sated, insolent and disgusted were they when 
 dismissed ! for years I have beheld this woman a slave to 
 the most degraded of men. What sufferings has she not 
 endured ! and with how much boldness has she not reconciled 
 . herself to her fate and worn her fetters ! 
 
 " Thus did I become acquainted with your sex, my friend, 
 and my hatred for it was intense, when I found that even 
 good men in their conduct towards us, abandoned every 
 noble feeling which they might inherit from nature. 
 
 " Unfortunately also I was enabled, in such circumstances, 
 to discover many painful things in relation to my own sex ; 
 and in truth I was wiser as a girl of sixteen years, than I am 
 now, when I can scarcely understand myself. Why are we so 
 wise in youth so wise, and why are we ever growing less so." 
 
 The child began to cry. Aurelia grew impatient and 
 rang the bell. An old woman came to carry him aw;iy. 
 " Do you still suffer from the tooth-ache ?" inquired Aurelia 
 of the nurse, whose face was enveloped in a handkerchief. 
 " Almost beyond endurance," answered the other in a faint 
 voice, as she took up the child. He liked going with her 
 and she carried him away. 
 
 Scarcely had the child disappeared, when Aurelia began to 
 cry bitterly. " I can do nothing but complain and lament," 
 she exclaimed, " and I am ashamed of my contemptible 
 conduct. My memory is gone and I cannot continue my 
 narrative." She sobbed and said no more. Wilhelm un- 
 willing to make a mere general observation, and unable to 
 say any thing appropriate, pressed her hand and looked at 
 her in silence. At length in his embarrassment, he took up 
 a book which lay open upon the table. It was a volume of 
 Shakspeare and open at the play of Hamlet. 
 
 Serlo who now appeared at the door, after inquiring for 
 
 his sister, peeped into the book which our friend had in his 
 
 hand, and then exclaimed. " What ! still busy with Hamlet ! 
 
 But you are right, though many doubts have occurred to 
 
 me, which are calculated to injure the canonical view with 
 
 which you would have the play regarded. Do not the 
 
 English themselves admit that its chief interest closes with 
 
 I the third act, and that the two concluding acts only encumber 
 
 i 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 235 
 
 the others and indeed it is true that the play becomes f 
 heavy towards the end." 
 
 " It is very possible," answered Wilhelm, " that some 
 individuals of a nation which boasts of so many master- 
 pieces, may be misled by prejudice or ignorance, but that 
 should not prevent us from using our own eyes and forming 
 a sound judgment. I am far from condemning the plan 
 of this play indeed in my opinion a grander one has never 
 been invented nay, it is not invented, it is very nature." 
 
 " How can you explain that ?" inquired Serlo. 
 
 " I will explain nothing," answered Wilhelm, " I will 
 only state my own impressions." 
 
 Aurelia rose from her cushion, leaned upon her hand and 
 azed intently on Wilhelm, who, in the full conviction that 
 his opinions were well founded, proceeded as follows. " It 
 pleases and flatters us to see a hero relying upon his own 
 resources, loving and hating as his heart impels him, under- 
 taking and completing, overcoming every obstacle and finally 
 attaining his desired end. Historians and poets would 
 fain persuade us that this may be the proud lot of 
 man. But here we are taught another lesson. The hero is 
 without a plan, but the piece is not so. We do not here 
 behold a villain punished in pursuance of a strict and 
 deliberate design no, a dreadful crime has been perpetrated, 
 and it carries every thing with it, even the guiltless is borne 
 along in its course. The criminal would avoid the gulf 
 w r hich yawns before him, yet he plunges headlong in, at the 
 very moment when he thinks he has found a happy way to 
 escape. For it is the property of crime to spread mischief 
 over innocence, as it is of virtue to extend blessings to the 
 undeserving, whilst the author of the evil or of the good 
 remains unpunished or unrewarded. How wonderful is this 
 play of ours ! From the flames of another world comes 
 forth a spirit and demands revenge in vain. Every thing 
 conspires to invoke revenge, in vain. Neither earthly nor 
 unearthly influences can execute what is reserved for fate 
 alone. The hour of judgment comes. The wicked falls 
 together with the good. A whole race is mowed down, 
 that another may appear. 
 
 After a pause, during which they looked at one another 
 in silence, Serlo said, " In exalting the poet you render 
 
236 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 no compliment to Providence, and it seems to me that in 
 order to honour your favourite Bard, you would impute to 
 him an object and a design of which he himself has never 
 dreamed." 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 " PERMIT me to ask you a question," said Aurelia. " I 
 have again examined Ophelia's part and I am pleased with 
 it, and feel sure that upon certain conditions I should be able 
 act it. But tell me, is it not your opinion that the poet- 
 ought to have written songs of a different kind for the insane 
 maiden ? And might we not for this purpose even select a 
 few fragments from some of our own melancholy ballads ? 
 Expressions of double meaning and indelicate allusions do 
 not become the pure lips of a noble-minded girl." 
 
 " My good friend," said Wilhelm, " even upon this point, 
 I cannot coincide with you. A deep meaning is concealed 
 in these peculiarities and in this seeming impropriety. Have 
 we not an intimation from the very beginning of the play of 
 the subject with which the thoughts of the maiden are en- 
 gaged ? She pursues her course in silent secresy, but 
 without being able wholly to conceal her wishes and her 
 longing. The voice of desire has echoed within her soul, and 
 she has often tried like an unskilful nurse to lull her senses 
 to repose with ballads, which have only kept her more awake. 
 But at length when all self-control is at an end, and the 
 secrets of her heart appear upon her tongue, that tongue 
 betrays her, and in the innocence of her madness, even in 
 the presence of royalty she takes delight in the echo of her 
 loose but dearly -loved songs of ' The maiden whose heart was 
 won,' * The maid who stole to meet the youth,' and so forth." 
 
 He had scarcely finished speaking, when Wilhelm suddenly 
 witnessed an extraordinary scene, the meaning of which he 
 was wholly unable to comprehend. 
 
 Serlo had paced several times up and down the apartment 
 without betraying any apparent design. Suddenly he ap- 
 proached Aurelia' s dressing table, and seizing hold of some- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 237 
 
 thing that was lying upon it, he ran towards the door with 
 his prize. Aurelia observing this action of her brother, 
 sprang up and threw herself in his way ; she caught hold of 
 him firmly and was quick enough to seize one end of the 
 article which he had in his hand. They struggled and con- 
 tended together with great obstinacy, wrestled and turned 
 each other round, whilst he laughed and she exerted herself 
 to the utmost of her strength. At length Wilhelm hastened 
 forward to separate and to appease them. He was, however, 
 astonished to see Aurelia turn aside, holding a naked dagger 
 in her hand, whilst Serlo flung the scabbard, which he had 
 retained, angrily upon the ground. Wilhelm started back 
 with surprise, and his silent astonishment appeared to ask 
 why so angry a contest had taken place about so strange an 
 instrument ? 
 
 " You shall judge between us !" cried Serlo. " What 
 does she want with a dagger ? Let me show it to you : it is 
 not fit for an actress. The point is like a needle and the 
 edge is as keen as a razor. What is it for ? passionate as 
 she is, she may perhaps do herself some injury. I have a 
 settled aversion for such singularities, and though any serious 
 thoughts of danger may be foolish, yet so dangerous a play- 
 thing ought to be laid aside." 
 
 "I have it once more," cried Aurelia, as she held up the 
 naked blade, " and in future I will take better care of my 
 trusty friend. Pardon me," she exclaimed, as she kissed the 
 dagger, " for having so much neglected you." 
 
 It seemed that Serlo was now becoming really angry. 
 " Just as you please, brother," she continued, '" but how can 
 you tell whether some precious talisman may not be con- 
 cealed beneath this appearance ? or whether it may not be to 
 me a source of help and counsel, in times of danger ? Must 
 everything be evil that looks perilous ?" 
 
 " Such senseless speeches as these are enough to make me 
 furious," answered Serlo, and with ill-concealed anger he left 
 the apartment. Aurelia replaced the dagger carefully in a 
 sheath. *' We may now resume the discourse which my 
 brother has interrupted," she calmly observed, as Wilhelm 
 was preparing to inquire into the cause of the strange 
 quarrel. 
 
 " I must acknowledge that your view of Ophelia's character 
 
238 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 is correct," she continued, "you clearly comprehend the 
 object of the poet, but I think she is rather an object of pity 
 than of sympathy. Allow me however to make one observa- 
 tion, which has lately occurred to me frequently with respect 
 to yourself. I have observed with admiration, the penetrating 
 and correct glance with which you view poetry, especially 
 poetry of a dramatic nature. The deep stores of invention 
 are not hidden from you, and you can detect all the finest 
 strokes of representation. Without having become ac- 
 quainted with the objects themselves in nature, you perceive 
 the truth of the picture, a foretaste of the whole world seems 
 to lie concealed within you, which the harmonious touches of 
 poetry awaken and unfold. For in truth," she continued, 
 " you do not appear to have acquired much from outward 
 influences. I have seldom met with a person who has so 
 little understood, or rather, who has so wholly misunderstood, 
 the beings amongst whom he has lived. Permit me to say 
 it. When we hear you expounding Shakspeare you appear 
 to have come amongst us from the council chamber of the 
 gods, where you have attended their deliberations about the 
 formation of mankind. But when we see your conduct with 
 your fellow-creatures, I could suppose you to be the very 
 earliest child of creation gazing with strange astonishment 
 and edifying good humour upon the lions and the asses, the 
 sheep and the elephants around you, and addressiug them 
 confidingly as your equals, merely because they were present 
 and were moving like yourself." 
 
 " The consciousness of my puerile innocence in this re- 
 spect/' he replied, " often afflicts me, and I would thank you 
 to give me a clearer insight into the conduct of the world. 
 I have been accustomed from my youth to direct the eyes of 
 my soul rather to interior than to exterior objects, and it 
 seems therefore but natural that I should, up to a certain 
 point, have become acquainted with men, without however 
 knowing much about mankind at large." 
 
 " Really," said Aurelia, " I had an idea that you meant it 
 as a good joke, when you spoke so favourably of those people 
 whom you sent to my brother, and when I compared their 
 real acquirements with your account of their merits, I own 
 I was much surprised." 
 
 Although Aurelia' s observations were perfectly true, and 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 239 
 
 "Wilhelm was conscious of the defects to which she had al- 
 luded, he felt nevertheless that they were painful and offen- 
 sive ; he therefore remained silent and reserved, partly that 
 he might not betray his irritation, and partly that he might 
 examine his own bosom respecting the justice of the rebuke. 
 
 " You must not be displeased at what I have said," added 
 Aurelia, "the light of the understanding is easily attained, 
 but no one can enrich us with the fulness of the heart. If 
 you are destined to become an artist, you cannot too long 
 preserve the innocence of which I have spoken ; it is the 
 beautiful hull which encloses the young bud woe to us if 
 we burst it too soon ! Happy are we not to know too well 
 those for whom it is our lot to labour ! 
 
 " In truth, I was also in this happy state, when I first trod 
 the boards, and I entertained the most exalted ideas of my- 
 self and of my country. What a noble people did I not 
 esteem the Germans, 'and what did I not think them compe- 
 tent to achieve ! Such were the people whom I was accus- 
 l to address, raised above them by the elevation of a 
 small stage, and separated from them only by a row of lamps, 
 the glare and vapour of which prevented me from clearly 
 discerning the objects before me. And how welcome to me 
 was the voice of approbation which issued from the crowd ! 
 how gratefully did I accept the applause which was presented 
 to me unanimously by so many hands. For a long time I 
 was delighted with these ideas I possessed the power of 
 moving the feelings of crowds, and they affected me in 
 return I was on the best terms with my audience I ima- 
 gined that a perfect harmony existed between us, and that I 
 always had before me an assembly of the worthiest and the 
 noblest beings in the land. 
 
 "Unfortunately, however, it was not the actress alone whose 
 natural and artistic excellence so much interested these 
 patrons of the theatre, they were attracted also by the charms 
 of the young and lively maiden. They made me clearly un- 
 derstand that it was my duty, to share with them personally, 
 those emotions which I had awakened within them. And 
 this was no part of my business. I wished to elevate their 
 minds, but to that thing which they called the heart, I 
 could not lay the slightest claim. From that time, I was 
 addressed by men of all ranks, ages and characters, and 
 
240 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 nothing troubled me more than my inability to shut myself 
 up in my room, like other honest maidens, and save myself 
 in this manner from a world of trouble. 
 
 " The men, for the most part, resembled those whom I had 
 been accustomed to meet at my aunt's, and they must have 
 excited my disgust if I had not been amused with their 
 peculiarities and follies. As I could not avoid seeing them 
 either upon the stage, or in public places, or at home, I de- 
 termined to study their characters, and in this amusement I 
 was zealously assisted by my brother. And when you re- 
 member that from the active shopkeeper, and the conceited 
 merchant's son, down to the experienced cautious man of the 
 world, the gallant soldier, and the daring prince, all in turn 
 passed in review before me, and each thought that he could 
 in his own way succeed in accomplishing his romantic specu- 
 lation you will pardon me for believing that I possessed 
 some experience of my nation. 
 
 " The fantastically apparelled student, the humble-proud 
 embarrassed man of letters, the sleek contented canon, the 
 stiff attentive man of office, the rough country baron, the 
 smooth and polite courtier, the young and erring clergy in an, 
 the cool, but quick and actively calculating merchant all 
 these I have seen in turn before me, and in truth there were 
 few of them who inspired me with the smallest degree of 
 interest, on the contrary, it was with pain that I received the 
 praises of fools, and I found it both distressing and annoying 
 to gather those applauses in detail, which in their collected 
 form, had given me so much pleasure. 
 
 " When I expected to hear a sensible compliment upon my 
 acting, when I hoped that they would praise an author whom 
 I highly valued, they made some foolish observation and 
 spoke of some wretched piece in which they wished to see 
 me perform. When I listened to hear amongst them some 
 noble, brilliant, witty thought, I was invariably disappointed. 
 A fault, a mispronunciation or some provincialism, these were 
 the important subjects upon which they fastened, and which 
 they never permitted to escape. At length I was at a loss 
 what course to take they deemed themselves far too clever 
 to be entertained, and they conceived that their romping and 
 noise afforded me wonderful amusement. I began to despise 
 them from my inmost heart, and it seemed to me as if the 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 211 
 
 whole nation had sought to debase itself in my eyes by means 
 of these, its deputies. They were so rude, so ill-bred, so 
 badly educated, so wholly destitute of pleasing manners, so 
 devoid of taste. Often did I exclaim, ' No German can even 
 fasten the buckle of his shoe, till he has been instructed in 
 the art by some foreign nation.' 
 
 " You see how blinded and how sadly unjust I was, and 
 the longer this continued the more my prejudices increased. 
 All this might have proved my ruin but I fell into another 
 extreme. I married, or rather I allowed myself to be mar- 
 ried. My brother, who had undertaken the management 
 of a theatre, felt anxious for an assistant. His choice fell 
 upon a young man who was not displeasing to me, but who 
 was deficient in every quality that my brother possessed: 
 genius, animation, spirit and daring but in return he had 
 every thing that my brother wanted, love of order, industry, 
 and those precious gifts of housekeeping and the proper 
 management of money. 
 
 " He became my husband, I know not how and we lived 
 together, I know not why. But enough ! our affairs pros- 
 pered, our receipts were large, the result of my brother's 
 activity, and we practised economy a merit which belonged 
 to my husband. I thought no longer of the world or of the 
 nation. I had nothing to share with the world, and of the 
 nation I had lost every distinct idea. When I appeared 
 upon the stage, I did it to obtain my livelihood, and I opened 
 my lips, because I dared not maintain silence since I had 
 come out to speak 
 
 " But I must not represent matters too unfavourably. I 
 had entered fully into the views of my brother and these 
 were to earn applause and money for between ourselves, he 
 loves praise and spends freely. But my acting was no longer 
 dictated by my own feelings or conviction, but by his wishes, 
 and I was contented when I earned his approbation. 
 
 " He was guided wholly by public caprice. The money 
 flowed in, he could livq as he wished, and with him we en- 
 joyed prosperous times. 
 
 " But I had fallen into a mere handicraft routine of life. 
 I passed my days without joy or sympathy. My marriage 
 was childless and of short 'duration. My husband fell into 
 ill health, his strength decaved visibly, and my care for him 
 
 B 
 
242 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 interrupted my general indifference. About this time I 
 formed an acquaintance which was to me the beginning of a 
 new existence, a new and more rapid life, for it will soon 
 come to an end." 
 
 She remained silent for a time, and then continued, 
 " Suddenly my talkative humour falters, and I scarcely have 
 courage to continue. Allow me to rest a little. You must 
 not go until you have been made acquainted with all my 
 misfortunes in detail ; but in the mean time call in Mignon, 
 and hear what she has to say." 
 
 During Aurelia's narrative the child had entered the 
 apartment more than once, but as they had spoken in a lower 
 tone during her stay, she had retired quietly and was now 
 sitting in the antechamber. When she was invited to return, 
 she brought a book back with her, which, from its shape and 
 binding, was at once perceived to be an atlas. During her 
 stay at the house of the Clergyman, she had seen some maps 
 for the first time ; they had excited her astonishment, and 
 had caused her to make many inquiries respecting them, from 
 which she had obtained a fund of information. Her anxiety 
 to receive instruction was increased by her acquaintance 
 with this branch of knowledge. She earnestly besought 
 Wilhelm to purchase the book for her, informing him that 
 she had left her large silver buckle as security with the 
 print seller for it, and that she was anxious to receive it to- 
 morrow morning, as this evening it was too late for the pur- 
 pose. He consented, and she now commenced to repeat 
 something she had already learned, and according to her 
 usual custom, proceeded to ask the strangest questions. 
 It was easy to perceive that, notwithstanding her great wish 
 to learn, her progress was slow and laborious. It was the 
 same with her writing, a task at which she toiled exceedingly. 
 She spoke very broken German, and it was only when she 
 sang and touched her guitar, that she appeared to possess an 
 organ which opened and displayed the emotions of her soul. 
 
 As she is now our topic, we may allude to the embarrass- 
 ment which Wilhelm had lately experienced on her account. 
 When she met him or bade him farewell, in the morning or at 
 night, she was accustomed to embrace him so affectionately, 
 and to kiss him with so much ardour, that the force of her 
 ripening nature often rendered him anxious and fearful. The 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 243 
 
 warmth of her disposition seemed to increase daily, and her 
 whole being seemed agitated with a silent restlessness. She 
 appeared unable to exist without twisting a piece of thread 
 between her fingers, or tieing a handkerchief in knots, or 
 biting a paper, or a piece of wood. All her occupations 
 seemed designed to appease her inward violent agitation. 
 The only thing that made her cheerful, was the presence of 
 little Felix, and with him she could enjoy herself very happily. 
 
 After a little rest, Aurelia wishing to explain to her friend 
 a matter which lay near her heart, became impatient at the 
 child's delay, and gave her to understand, therefore, that she 
 must go. At length when there was no alternative, they 
 were obliged to dismiss her peremptorily and against her 
 will. "Now or never," said Aurelia, " I must relate the 
 sequel of my story. If my affectionate, well-beloved, unjust 
 friend were only a few miles distant, 1 should ask you to 
 mount your horse and endeavour to make his acquaintance 
 by some means or other, and I know that upon your return, 
 you would pardon and pity me from your heart. As it is, I 
 can only describe in words how amiable he was and how I 
 loved him. 
 
 " I became acquainted with him at that critical time when 
 I was a prey to sorrow from the illness of my husband. He 
 had just returned from America, where, in company with 
 some French officers, he had served with distinction under 
 the flag of the United States. 
 
 " He received me with an air of unembarrassed dig- 
 nity and open kindness ; he spoke of myself, of my condition, 
 and of my acting, with so much sympathy and candour, 
 that for the first time, I felt delighted at seeing my existence 
 clearly reflected in the being of another. His judgments 
 were correct without being harsh, precise but not unkind. 
 He evinced no severity of manner, and his pleasantries were 
 inoffensive. He seemed accustomed to be successful with 
 the sex ; this won my attention, and he was far from being 
 flattering or importunate, which rendered me incautious. 
 
 " In this town he had but few acquaintances, he was gene- 
 rally on horseback visiting his numerous friends in the neigh- 
 bourhood or attending to the business of his firm. Upon 
 his return, he usually alighted at my house, evinced much 
 anxiety for my invalid husband, and alleviated his sufferings 
 
244 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 by recommending us a good physician, and as he interested 
 himself in all that concerned me, he allowed me in return to 
 feel an interest in his welfare. He related to me the history 
 of his campaigns, his unconquerable attachment to a soldier's 
 life, all his family circumstances, and his present occupation. 
 He kept no secret from me, he unfolded his inmost thoughts, 
 he allowed me to penetrate into the secret recesses of his 
 soul. I became acquainted with his capabilities and his 
 passions. For the first time in my life I enjoyed a cordial 
 intellectual attachment. I was attracted and borne along 
 by him before I was able to reflect upon my condition. 
 
 " It was at this very time that I lost my husband. The 
 whole burden of the theatrical business now devolved upon 
 me. My brother, without a rival upon the stage, was wholly 
 useless in matters of domestic economy. I therefore under- 
 took every thing, and studied more diligently than ever. I 
 played once more as I had been accustomed to do, with new 
 life and fresh energy, all for him and on his account ; but I 
 did not always succeed when I knew that my noble friend was 
 present. He witnessed my performance several times, and you 
 may judge how delighted I felt at his unexpected applause. 
 
 " In truth I am a strange being. In every character that I 
 played, it seemed to me as if I were praising him or speaking 
 of his honour ; for such was the disposition of my heart, and 
 the words I uttered might carry whatever meaning they 
 pleased. When I knew that he was amongst the audience, I 
 did not dare to act with all my power : and in the same maimtT 
 I did not press my love or praise upon him openly, but when 
 he was absent, I had free liberty, and I then exerted myself 
 with a safe conscience and indescribable satisfaction. Applause 
 delighted me once more, and when I gratified the public ] 
 longed to exclaim that ' they were indebted for it all to him.' 
 
 " The relation in which I stood towards the public and the 
 nation, had undergone a miraculous change. Again they ap- 
 peared to me in the most advantageous light, and I felt per- 
 fectly astonished at my previous blindness. 
 
 " c How unreasonable/ I would exclaim to myself, ' was it 
 to censure a nation, only because it is a nation ! Is it pos- 
 sible,' I inquired, * for individual men to possess for us an 
 equal interest ? by no means. The only question is, whether 
 amongst the large mass of mankind, there is a distribution 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 215 
 
 of talents, powers, and capabilities, which, under favourable 
 circumstances, are capable of being developed and directed 
 by one common object. 1 I now felt charmed that there was 
 so small a share of originality amongst my countrymen ; I 
 felt delighted that they did not require guidance, and that 
 they had found a leader. 
 
 " Lothario, for you muoi allow me to call my friend by his 
 dear Christian name, had constantly extolled the courageous 
 qualities of the Germans, and maintained that no braver nation 
 existed in the world when they were properly led, and I felt 
 ashamed at never having thought of this primary virtue of the 
 people. He was well read in history, and was intimate with 
 many of the most meritorious men of his age. Although he was 
 young, his eye could mark the hopeful budding youth of his 
 fatherland, and appreciate the silent labours of busy and active 
 men in their various employments. Through him I caught 
 a view of Germany ; I could see what it was and all that it 
 would become, and I felt ashamed at having formed my 
 opinion of a nation from the motley crowd, with which I had 
 become acquainted behind the scenes of a theatre. He made 
 me sensible of the duty of becoming true, intelligent, and 
 enlivening, within the limits of my own sphere. Henceforth, 
 when I trod the stage, I considered myself inspired. The 
 most common-place passages possessed a sterling value as I 
 spoke them, and if I had then had the assistance of a poet, 
 I could have produced the most wonderful effects. 
 
 " The young widow lived in this manner for many months. 
 He could not exist without me, and I was wretched when he 
 was absent. He shewed me the correspondence of his rela- 
 tives and of his excellent sister ; he took an interest in my 
 most trifling affairs, and no union could have been more in- 
 timate or more complete than ours. The name of love was 
 never mentioned. He went and came he came and went 
 and now my friend it is high time that you also should go." 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 WILHELM was unable any longer to postpone his visit to his 
 commercial friends ; but it was not without anxiety that he 
 executed his intention, as he knew that he should then receive 
 
246 TVILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 letters from his relatives. He feared the censure which he 
 foresaw they must contain, and he deemed it probable that 
 his house of business might have received information of the 
 uneasiness he had occasioned. And after his own career of 
 knightly adventures, he dreaded the schoolboy aspect in 
 which he must now appear ; he determined therefore to put 
 a bold face upon the matter and conceal his real embarrass- 
 ment. 
 
 But to his great surprise and satisfaction, every thing went 
 off admirably. In the large busy counting house, time had 
 been scarcely found for opening his correspondence, and a very 
 cursory allusion had been made to his protracted delay. The 
 letters of his father and of his friend Werner were most satis- 
 factory. The former was in hopes of receiving a complete 
 journal, which at his departure he had recommended his son 
 to keep, and for which he had himself furnished the plan, and 
 he was not uneasy at the first period of his son's silence, 
 though he felt much perplexed at the only letter which had 
 reached him, and which had been written from the castle of 
 the Count. Werner jested in his old fashion, related merry 
 stories of the town, and requested an account of the new 
 friends, with whom he expected that Wilhelm would become 
 acquainted in the large trading cities which he visited. Wil- 
 helm was highly pleased at escaping so easily, and wrote 
 some very cheerful letters in reply, in which he promised his 
 father a full detail of his travels, which should embody every 
 species of geographical, statistical, and mercantile informa- 
 tion. He stated that he had seen a great deal during his 
 journey from which he hoped to compose a readable volume. 
 But he failed to perceive that he was again in the same di- 
 lemma in which he had found himself once before, when he 
 had lighted his lamps and collected his audience to witness 
 a play that had not even been composed. And even when 
 he really commenced his work, he found that though he 
 could converse freely about thoughts and emotions, and 
 impart much experience with relation to the heart and spirit, 
 he was utterly ignorant of all outward objects, to which, as 
 he now perceived, he had never paid the least attention. 
 
 In this difficulty, the knowledge of his friend Laertes 
 came opportunely to his relief. Little as these young peo- 
 ple resembled each other, custom had united them together, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 247 
 
 and Laertes, in spite of all his faults and peculiarities, was an 
 interesting personage. With his cheerful happy disposition 
 be might have grown old, without even bestowing a thought 
 upon his situation. But ill-health and misfortune had at 
 length robbed him of the pure feelings of youth, and had 
 opened his eyes to the fugitive, transitory nature of existence. 
 Thence he had acquired a humourous, rhapsodical way of 
 thinking, or rather of communicating his impressions. He 
 disliked solitude, frequented hotels and coffee houses, and 
 when he remained within doors, books of travels formed his 
 favourite, or indeed, his only amusement. With these he 
 could amply gratify his taste from the resources of a circu- 
 lating library, and half the world was soon inscribed upon 
 his faithful memory. 
 
 He found no difficulty, therefore, in assisting his friend, 
 when the latter complained of his total want of materials 
 to supply the narrative which he had so solemnly promised. 
 " We will now frame a work of art," exclaimed Laertes, 
 " which it will be difficult to excel. 
 
 " Has not Germany, from one end to the other, been 
 repeatedly travelled over, crossed over, walked over, crept 
 over, and flown over ? And does not every German traveller 
 invariably avail himself of the noble privilege of making the 
 public defray his expenses, whether they be great or small ? 
 Only give me a sketch of your route before your arrival 
 amongst us, and I can supply all the rest. I will provide 
 you with every source of information and furnish you with 
 all kinds of assistance. We shall speak of miles that were 
 never measured, and of populations whichwere never counted. 
 We shall take the revenues of states from pocket books and 
 statistical tables, which, after all, are the most authentic 
 documents. These shall form the basis of our political 
 discussions, and we shall not fail to indulge in some passing 
 observations upon the ruling powers. We may describe one 
 or two princes as the fathers of their country, that our re- 
 flections upon the others may obtain more ready credence. 
 If in the course of our journey, we fail to visit the residence 
 of some celebrated persons, we shall be sure to meet them 
 at the hotel, where, in their confidential communications to 
 ourselves, they will utter the greatest absurdities. We 
 must especially remember to weave a love adventure into our 
 
248 WILHELM MEISTEfc's 
 
 narrative, and we shall produce a work with which every 
 father and mother will feel delighted, and for which the very 
 publisher will pay without grumbling." 
 
 They went to work forthwith, and both friends found 
 much pleasure in their occupation ; Wilhelm frequenting the 
 theatre at night, and enjoying the company of Serlo and 
 Aureiia by day. His ideas now began to expand more fullv, 
 as they had hitherto been confined within bounds of too 
 limited a nature. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 WILHELM listened to Serlo's account of himself with the 
 greatest interest. It was told to him in fragments, for it 
 was not the custom of this peculiar being to be very confi- 
 dential or to express himself at any time in a connected 
 manner. It may be said that he was born and nursed upon 
 the stage. Before he could speak he had enlisted the sym- 
 pathy of the spectators, for authors very early understood 
 his natural and innocent mode of exciting pity, and his first 
 exclamation of " Father" or " Mother" won for him the 
 greatest applause in favourite pieces, long before he could 
 understand what was meant by the audience clapping their 
 hands. Sometimes ornamented with wings he came flutter- 
 ing upon the stage in the character of Cupid, at other times 
 he would issue as a Harlequin from an egg, or in the cha- 
 racter of a little sweep would play the drollest tricks. 
 
 Unfortunately during the intervals of his representations, 
 he had to pay dearly for the applauses which he received. 
 His father, believing that the attention of children was best 
 excited and retained by chastisement, was accustomed to 
 beat him severely at stated periods during his study of a 
 part, not because the boy was dull, but in order that his 
 cleverness by this means might be rendered more certain and 
 confirmed. Upon the same principle formerly, whilst set- 
 ting up landmarks, the children who looked on, invariably 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 249 
 
 received a sound beating, and the eldest of them ever after- 
 wards retained a vivid recollection of the exact spot where it 
 had been inflicted. As Serlo grew up, he displayed more 
 than ordinary capabilities both of mind and body, combined 
 with a great pliancy in his movements and gestures, which 
 much improved his style of acting. His powers of imitation 
 surpassed belief. Even when a child he could mimic 
 other persons with such accuracy as to bring them before 
 you, although in figure, in age, and in manner, they might 
 not only be wholly unlike him, but unlike one another. 
 Neither was he deficient in the power of making his own 
 way in the world, and, for this reason, as soon as he became 
 conscious of his strength, nothing could be more natural 
 than that he should elope from his father, particularly as 
 the latter considered that as his son's understanding increased 
 and his talents developed, it was proper to bring them to 
 perfection by the very harshest treatment. 
 
 Happy therefore did he now feel himself a free boy 
 in a free world, where his powers of drollery invariably- 
 secured for him a favourable reception. Good fortune first 
 led him during the festivities of the Carnival to a convent, 
 where, as the monk had just died who had been accustomed 
 to superintend the processions and to edify the Christian 
 community by spiritual masquerades, he appeared as an 
 assistant guardian angel. 
 
 During the performances which now ensued, some pagan 
 soldiers playing their parts somewhat too naturally upon 
 one occasion, put him to severe bodily pain. In order, 
 therefore, that he might take proper revenge upon them, 
 when they subsequently enacted the mystery of the Last 
 Judgment, he dressed them out in the gaudy robes of Kings 
 and Emperors, and at the proper time when quite contented 
 with their parts, they were on the point of taking precedence 
 of all other persons, he came upon them suddenly in the shape 
 of the Devil, and to the manifest delight of all the spectators 
 and beggars present, after he had well punished them with 
 his huge fork, he drove them mercilessly into the bottomless 
 pit, where surrounded by raging flames they met with the 
 most dreadful reception. 
 
 But he was sufficiently clever to perceive that these royal 
 personages might not be too well satisfied with this harsh 
 
250 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 treatment, and fearing lest they might perhaps forget the 
 respect due to his privileged office, he silently retreated 
 from the convent before the commencement of the millen- 
 nium, and was received with open arms by a company, 
 known as the Children of Delight, who had taken up their 
 residence in a neighbouring town. These were a body of 
 sensible, intellectual, and active-minded men, who were fully 
 aware that the sum of our existence divided by reason always 
 leaves a surprising fraction behind. They sought at ap- 
 pointed times to get rid of this fraction, which they found 
 to be a perpetual impediment and even dangerous when it 
 mingled with our general conduct. During one day in 
 the week they played in turn the part of fools, when by 
 means of allegorical representations they ridiculed any folly 
 which they might have observed in themselves or others. 
 And even if this practice were less refined than that uninter- 
 rupted education, which a well regulated mind daily 
 observes and with which it warns and restrains its conduct, 
 it had the advantage of being more cheerful and certain. 
 For as no man could deny that he had some favourite 
 folly, they treated it for what it really was ; whereas in the 
 other alternative, self delusion always allows this favourite 
 folly the mastery, and compels reason to a secret servitude, 
 in the belief that it has long since chased it away. The 
 mask of folly thus went round in the society, and every one 
 was permitted on his particular day to decorate it in a charac- 
 teristic manner with his own or with a stranger's attributes. 
 During the carnival season they took the greatest freedom, 
 and they emulated the clergy in their endeavours to amuse 
 and to instruct the multitude. The solemn allegorical 
 processions of virtues and vices, arts and sciences, climates 
 and seasons, explained a number of ideas to the people, and 
 communicated to them notions of distant objects which 
 rendered such games of much utility, while on the other hand 
 the priestly mummeries only tended to confirm a tasteless 
 superstition. 
 
 Here young Serlo was once more in his proper element. 
 He was not possessed of any great inventive powers, but 
 he had remarkable skill in turning to account all that he 
 found already made, in arranging it, and rendering it useful. 
 His good humour, his power of mimicry, his caustic wit, of 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 251 
 
 which he was allowed to make free use on at least one day 
 in the week, even against his benefactors, rendered him 
 useful and even indispensable to the whole company. 
 
 But his restlessness soon induced him to leave this advan- 
 tageous locality that he might visit other parts of the country, 
 where he had to enter a new school of instruction. He was 
 now introduced to the polished, but unromantic part of 
 Germany, where in paying honour to the good and beautiful 
 a deficiency of spirit, if not of truth, is experienced. He 
 could now accomplish nothing with his masks, he had to 
 produce an effect upon the heart and upon the mind. He 
 attached himself, therefore, for a short time to different 
 theatrical companies, and observed upon those occasions the 
 various peculiarities of pieces and performers. The mono- 
 tony which then ruled upon the German, stage, the disagree- 
 able sound and drawl of the Alexandrine verse, the stiff 
 dialogue, the dry common-places uttered by those preachers 
 of morality, all these things he quickly comprehended, and 
 at the same time he was alive to whatever movecl and 
 pleased. 
 
 His memory easily retained not only single scenes from 
 popular pieces, but even entire plays, and at the same time 
 he could assume the peculiar tone of the actors who had 
 successfully performed them. At length, when his money 
 was completely exhausted, the thought occurred to him of 
 acting entire pieces at noblemen's houses and in the villages, 
 with a view of providing himself with entertainment and 
 comfortable quarters. It was his habit, therefore, to open 
 his theatre in any tavern, garden, or apartment, where he 
 might chance to be, when by an artful affectation of earnest- 
 ness and an appearance of enthusiasm, he succeeded in 
 winning the imaginations of his audience and deceiving their 
 senses, by converting an old press into a tower, or chang- 
 ing a fan into a dagger. The warmth of youth supplied 
 his want of deep feeling, his ardour passed for strength, and 
 his flattery for tenderness. He reminded every spectator 
 who was acquainted with a theatre, of all that he had already 
 seen and heard, and in all other persons he raised an ex- 
 pectation of something wonderful, and a desire to understand 
 him better. Whatever succeeded in one place was invariably 
 repeated at another, and he experienced the most cordial 
 
252 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 delight, when he was able, on the spur of the moment, to 
 practise the same deception upon all the world. 
 
 His active free spirit, which nothing could restrain, was 
 the source of his improvement, and he repeated his charac- 
 ters and performance with rapidity. He could soon declaim 
 and act more in conformity with the spirit of the author, 
 than the models whom he had previously imitated. "By this 
 means he gradually acquired the art of acting naturally. He 
 appeared to be carried away, yet he was all the time watching 
 the effect which he produced, and his greatest delight con- 
 sisted in gradually moving the hearts of his audience. His 
 mad pursuit compelled him before long to practise a degree 
 of moderation, and thus partly by necessity and partly by 
 instinct, he soon acquired the art which few players appre- 
 ciate of economising the use" of his voice and gestures. 
 
 Thus did he succeed in winning the attachment and the 
 sympathy of many rude unfriendly men. At all times 
 satisfied with food and shelter, he was grateful for every 
 present which was offered to him, and he frequently refused 
 money, when in his own opinion, he had received enough. 
 He was sent from friend to friend provided with letters of 
 recommendation, and for a long time he travelled from one 
 nobleman* s castle to another, occasioning every where general 
 delight, and enjoying much pleasure and meeting with a 
 succession of agreeable adventures. 
 
 The coldness of his disposition, rendered him a total 
 stranger to love, and the clearness of his penetration dis- 
 qualified him from feeling respect for others, for he never 
 looked beyond the outer qualities of men, and these he never 
 failed to transfer to his inimical collection. Nevertheless 
 his vanity was hurt when he failed in giving pleasure, or in 
 exciting universal applause. He had paid such strict attention 
 to the arts by which this object was to be attained, and his 
 feelings were so acutely alive upon the subject, that he could 
 not help practising his deceits in common life as well as in 
 his representations. And in this manner his disposition, his 
 talents, and his mode of existence acting reciprocally upon 
 each other, imperceptibly rendered him an accomplished 
 performer. Thus, by a system of action and reaction, which 
 though hardly apparent, is however wholly natural, his 
 recitation, declamation and gesture attained by study and 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 253 
 
 practice, a high degree of truth, freedom , and ease, while in 
 his life and conduct to others he became more reserved, 
 artful, deceitful and constrained. 
 
 Of his fortunes and adventures we may perhaps speak in 
 another place, and we shall only here observe that subse- 
 quently when he had become a person of some importance, 
 possessing a certain renown, and in favourable though not 
 settled circumstances, he was accustomed, either through 
 irony or mockery, to act the sophist and by this means to 
 prevent all serious conversation. In particular, he acted in 
 this way towards Wilhelm, whenever, as frequently happened, 
 the latter sought to engage him in general theoretical discus- 
 sions. Yet they were pleased to be together, and from 
 their opposite modes of thinking their conversation was 
 generally animated. It was Wilhekn's habit to deduce 
 every thing from general ideas, and always to view art in its 
 effects as a whole. He sought to establish and to settle 
 certain fixed rules for recognizing all that was beautiful 
 and good, and for acknowledging whatever merited applause ; 
 in fine, he treated all things in a serious manner. Serlo on 
 the other hand viewed every subject lightly, he never gave a 
 direct answer to any question, but by means of an appro- 
 priate story or a jest, he introduced the neatest and most 
 happy illustrations, and thus he instructed his companions 
 at the same time that he amused them. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 WHILE Wilhelm was thus leading a happy life, Melina 
 and the other members of the company were in very diffe- 
 rent circumstances. They seemed to haunt our friend like 
 evil spirits and occasioned him many a sorrowful moment, 
 not only by their distressed looks, but by their bitter obser- 
 vations. Serlo had never admitted them to take any part 
 in his performances, nor had he given them any hopes of 
 forming an engagement, but he had nevertheless made him- 
 self acquainted by degrees with their several capabilities. 
 
254 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 It was his custom, whenever the actors were assembled 
 around him, to make them read aloud, an amusement in 
 which he himself not unfrequently took part. He selected 
 pieces which were intended for representation, but which 
 had hitherto only been presented to the public in fragments. 
 And after their first performance, he caused them to repeat 
 such passages as afforded any opportunity for criticism, and 
 thus he improved the judgment of his actors, and rendered 
 them certain of hitting the right point. And as a weak but 
 sound understanding may affect others more agreeably than 
 a confused genius can possibly do, he was able frequently to 
 improve men of moderate talents, by the clear views which 
 he imperceptibly opened to them. His custom of causing 
 poems to be read at their meetings contributed in no slight 
 degree to this effect ; by such a course he enabled the actors 
 to appreciate the charm which well measured versification 
 ever awakens in the soul ; while in other companies the 
 performance of those prose compositions had already com- 
 menced, in which the veriest stripling might excel. 
 
 Availing himself of opportunities like these, he had become 
 acquainted with all the new actors, he knew what they were 
 and what they might be made, and he had secretly resolved to 
 avail himself of their talents in a revolution with which his 
 own company was threatened. For some time he permitted 
 the subject to rest, receiving all Wilhelm's intercessions for 
 his companions with a shrug of the shoulders, until at length 
 he saw his opportunity and unexpectedly proposed that Wil- 
 helm should appear upon the stage, and that upon this con- 
 dition the rest of the company should likewise be engaged. 
 
 " These people then cannot be so wholly useless, as you 
 have been accustomed to represent them," answered "Wil- 
 helm, " if you are willing to receive them now ; and it seems 
 to me that their talents will be the same, whether I join 
 them or not." 
 
 Serlo thereupon explained to him his situation, under a 
 promise of secresy, informing him that his chief actor had 
 lately shown a disposition, upon the renewal of their con-- 
 tract, to demand an increase of salary, a proposal to which he 
 was not willing to accede, particularly as he had lately lost 
 favour with the public that in his departure he would be 
 followed by sundry others, whereby the company would be 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 255 
 
 deprived of some good and of several indifferent actors. He 
 then explained what he expected to gain from the adhesion of 
 Laertes, the old man, and Madame Melina. He even 
 promised that in the characters of Jew, minister or stage 
 villain, the poor Pedant himself would achieve the most 
 decided success. 
 
 Wilhelm hesitated : he heard the proposal with surprise, 
 but in order that he might not remain wholly silent, he 
 answered with a deep drawn sigh, " You speak in flattering 
 terms of the merit we possess, or which you hope to find in 
 us ; but what do you think of our many deficiencies which 
 cannot have escaped your penetration ?" 
 
 " By diligence, practice, and attention," answered Serlo, 
 " we shall soon be able to correct them. Although you are 
 but novices and bunglers, there is none of you of whom I 
 need despair, for there is no blockhead amongst you, and 
 blurkl leads alone are incapable of improvement, whether it 
 be conceit, stupidity, or hypochondria that renders them 
 rigid and unmanageable." 
 
 Serlo then stated briefly the terms he intended to propose, 
 and requesting the favour of Wilhelni's prompt decision, he 
 left him in a slight degree of embarrassment. 
 
 In the strange composition of those fictitious travels, 
 which he had undertaken in jest, and which he was now pro- 
 secuting with Laertes, his attention was more forcibly 
 directed than it had ever been before, to the circumstances 
 and daily life of the actual world. He now felt for the first 
 time how pleasant and useful it must be to take part in so 
 many trades and occupations, and to assist in disseminating 
 lite and activity amid the mountains and forests of his native 
 laud. The busy commercial towns which he visited, and the 
 restlessness of Laertes who took him everywhere, impressed 
 his mind strongly with the idea of a vast central dep6t, 
 from which every thing flows out, and into which every thing 
 returns, and it was the first time that his mind had ever 
 received pleasure from the contemplation of this species of 
 activity. It was at such a moment that Serlo had made his 
 proposal to him, awakening his desires, his wishes, his faith 
 in his own natural talents, and reminding him of the duties 
 which he owed to his helpless companions. 
 
 " Here I stand once more," he said within himself, " at 
 
256 W1LHELM METSTEIl'g 
 
 the Parting of the "Ways, between the two women who 
 appeared to me in my youth. The one looks no longer so 
 miserable as she then appeared, nor is the other so glorious. 
 The inclination to follow either, springs from an inward 
 impulse, and the inducements from both sides are sufficiently 
 strong. It seems impossible to make a decision. We 
 desire a preponderance from without to determine our 
 choice, but upon rightly examining, we shall find that they 
 are outward circumstances alone which incline us to the 
 pursuits of trade, of labour, and of gathering, but that our 
 inward wants create and foster the desire to unfold and per- 
 fect those talents, whether corporal or mental, which lie 
 within us for realizing the beautiful and the good. And 
 should I not honour Fate, which without any effort of mine, 
 has conducted me hither to accomplish all my wishes ? Has 
 not every thing which I had previously contemplated or plan- 
 ned accidentally occurred without my co-operation ? 'Tis 
 passing strange ! Man seems to be intimate with nothing 
 so much as with his own hopes and wishes which he has 
 long preserved and cherished in his heart, and yet when they 
 are realized, when they advance to meet him, we scarcely 
 recognize them, and recoil before them. All the dreams 
 which I have indulged since that unhappy night which 
 severed me from Mariana stand now accomplished before 
 me. To this spot it was my intention to escape, to this 
 spot I am softly guided. I wished to find an engagement 
 with Serlo, he seeks me out, and offers me terms which as 
 a novice I could have no reason to expect. Was it then 
 nothing else than my love for Mariana which attracted me 
 to the theatre ? or was it the love of art which bound me 
 to the maiden ? Was that prospect that escape upon the 
 stage, only welcome to a restless and disorderly youth, because 
 he wished to pursue a career which the rules of civil life 
 did not permit ? or was all this of another nature, purer 
 worthier ? What then induced me to change my former 
 intentions ? or have I not rather unconsciously pursued 
 my own plan hitherto ? And can I not justify this 
 final step, which is influenced by no concurrent motives now, 
 when it affords me an opportunity of keeping my word so 
 solemnly pledged, and of nobly discharging a heavy debt?" 
 Every thought which could affect his heart or move his 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 257 
 
 imagination, agitated him now in the most sensible manner. 
 The reflection that he might still retain Mignon, and would 
 not be compelled to dismiss the old harper, added no small 
 weight to the balance, which continued to waver as he pro- 
 ceeded to pay his customary visit to his friend Aurelia. 
 
 CHAPTEK XX. 
 
 HE found her reposing on the bed. She appeared calm. 
 " Do you think you will be able to act to-morrow ?" he 
 rnqiiiivil. " O, yes !" she answered, " you know that nothing 
 can prevent me. If I only knew some plan for preventing 
 the applauses of the parterre. They are well meant, and 
 yet they will kill me. Yesterday I thought my heart must 
 surely break. Formerly I could endure it, when I had but 
 myself to please. After long study and careful preparation, 
 1 n juiced when the welcome sounds of applause echoed from 
 every side. But now I speak no more what I wish nor as I 
 would. I am swept along, I grow confused, and my acting 
 produces a stronger impression. The applause increases, 
 and then I ask, * Are you aware what it is that enchants 
 you? These dark, passionate, vague emotions affect you, 
 compel your admiration, but you do not feel that they are 
 the pangs of an unhappy being, upon which you bestow 
 your applause.' 
 
 " This morning I learned my part, and I have just repeated 
 and rehearsed it. I am weary exhausted, and to-morrow 
 I must do the same. In the evening the performance will 
 take place. But I am indifferent to every thing. It is 
 wearisome to rise, and fatiguing to return to bed. Every 
 thing seems to revolve in a perpetual circle. Then come 
 those painful consolations which I reject and execrate. I 
 will never yield to necessity. Why should that be neces- 
 sary which works my destruction ? Could it not possibly 
 be otherwise ? I am paying the penalty for being a German. 
 
 s 
 
258 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 It is the character of our nation to bear heavily upon every 
 thing, and that everything should bear heavily upon them." 
 
 " O, my dear friend !" interrupted Wilhelm, " could you 
 but cease to sharpen the dagger with which you so perpetu- 
 ally wound yourself 1 Have you no comfort left? Are 
 your youth, your form, your health, your talents nothing P 
 If you lose one blessing undeservedly, must you throw all 
 others after it ? Can such a course be necessary ?" 
 
 She remained silent for a few minutes, and then continued, 
 " I know that love is loss of time, nothing but loss of time. 
 What should I not have done ? What could I not have 
 done ? But now all is vanished. I am a wretched, love- 
 lorn creature nothing better. Have compassion on me, I 
 am poor and wretched." 
 
 She remained absorbed in thought, and after a short pause, 
 suddenly exclaimed, " You are accustomed to have every thing 
 fly into your arms. But you do not understand, no man 
 can understand the worth of a woman who knows how to 
 reverence herself. By all the images of blessedness which 
 a pure and kindly heart can create, there is nothing more 
 divine than the soul of a woman who gives herself to the 
 man she loves ! As long as we deserve the name of woman, 
 we are cold, proud, high, clear-minded, and wise, but all 
 these advantages we lay at your feet as soon as we love, as 
 soon as we hope to win a return of love. O ! how designedly 
 have I flung away my whole existence ! And now for 
 despair deliberate despair! There flows no drop of blood 
 within my veins that shall escape unpunished no nerve 
 that shall not suffer. Smile, ay ! smile, if you will, at this 
 theatrical display of passion," 
 
 But far distant from Wilhelm was every tendency to mirth. 
 The painful condition of his friend, half natural and half 
 excited, afflicted him too deeply. He shared the racking 
 tortures of her distress. His brain whirled, and his blood 
 was in a state of feverish agitation. 
 
 She had risen from her seat and was walking up and down 
 the room. " I will know," she said, t( why I should not love 
 him. I know that he is not worthy of my love. I turn my 
 attention to other things, and I keep myself employed, no 
 matter what occurs. Sometimes, I study a theatrical 
 character, even though I do not require to act it, and I 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 259 
 
 rehearse all the parts with which I am thoroughly acquainted, 
 and I practise them more diligently, more carefully ; I rehearse 
 them over and over again. O my friend, my trusting friend ! 
 who can tell what a painful task it is to tear ourselves from 
 our own contemplations ? My reason suffers, my brain 
 whirls, and to save myself from madness, I again consent to 
 think that I love him. Yes, I love, I love him !" she 
 exclaimed, as she shed a torrent of tears, " I love him, and 
 with this confession I am content to die." 
 
 He seized her hand, and, with a supplicating voice, he 
 implored her not to abandon herself to such distress. " It 
 is strange," he said, " that so much which seems both possible 
 and impossible should be denied to men. It was not your 
 destiny to meet with a faithful heart that should constitute 
 your whole happiness. But it was mine to fix the whole 
 joy of my life upon an unhappy being, who bent like a reed, 
 and finally broke down beneath the weight of my constancy." 
 
 Hi* had already confided his adventures with Mariana 
 to Aurelia, and he might thrivfjiv make this allusion to 
 them. She fixed her eyes upon him, and asked with a solemn 
 voice, " Can you then assert that you have never betrayed a 
 woman, that you have never sought to win her favour by 
 thoughtless gallantry, by false protestations, or by deceitful 
 oaths ?" 
 
 " I can assert as much," said "Wilhelm, "and that without 
 much vanity. For my way of life has been so simple that 
 J have seldom been exposed to the dangers of attempting 
 seduction. And what a warning is your fate to me, my 
 beautiful, my noble friend ! Accept an appropriate vow 
 which I pledge to you now, a vow which receives shape and 
 form from the emotion which you have occasioned within me, 
 and which is consecrated by the hour in which I pronounce 
 it : Henceforth I will subdue every transitory feeling of pas- 
 sion and bury it all within my bosom no woman shall ever 
 hear an avowal of love from my lips, to whom I cannot dedi- 
 cate my life !" 
 
 She gazed at him with a look of wild indifference and 
 retreated some steps, whilst at the same time she extended 
 her hand to him. " "Pis of little consequence !" she cried, 
 "a few woman's tears, more or less, matter not they will 
 not swell the ocean. And yet, that one should be saved 
 
260 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 amongst a thousand is something that one honourable man 
 should be found amongst a thousand, that too is something ! 
 Do you know what you have sworn ?" 
 
 " I know it well," answered "Wilhelm with a smile, and 
 extending his hand. 
 
 " I take it," she exclaimed, and at the same time she made 
 a movement with her right hand which gave him the impres- 
 sion that she was about to clasp it, but quickly, with the 
 speed of lightning, she took a dagger from her bosom and 
 drew the point and edge across his hand. He instantly 
 withdrew his arm, but the blood was already flowing from 
 the wound. 
 
 " "We must mark you men distinctly when we mean to 
 beware of you," she cried, with a sort of wild glee, which 
 was soon converted into anxious attention. With her hand- 
 kerchief she bound up his hand to stop the flow of blood. 
 " Pardon me," she cried, with a manner half insane, " and 
 do not regret these few drops of blood. I am appeased, I 
 am now myself again. I crave your pardon on my knees. Let 
 me enjoy the consolation of healing you." 
 
 She went to her press, brought forth a supply of linen 
 and other things, staunched the blood, and watched the 
 wound carefully. The cut went through the ball of the hand 
 close to the thumb, dividing the lines of life, and extended 
 to the little finger. She bound it up in silence with a signi- 
 ficant and thoughtful look. He inquired more than once, 
 " How could you, dearest ! so severely wound your friend ?' ' 
 
 " Silence !" she replied, as she laid her finger on her lips, 
 silence !" 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 261 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 WILHELM had thus, to his former wounds, which were as 
 yet scarcely healed, added another, which threatened to 
 prove extremely troublesome. Aurelia would not permit 
 him to send for a surgeon. She herself attended him, but 
 her strange speeches and ceremonies embarrassed him beyond 
 measure. And her restlessness and singular conduct dis- 
 tressed not only him but every one whom she approached, 
 and more especially the little Felix. This quick child bore 
 the grievance with evident impatience, and the more she 
 censured and corrected him, the more intractable he became. 
 
 He had acquired some habits which are usually condemned, 
 and which she never consented to encourage. Tor example, 
 he was accustomed to drink out of the decanter in place of 
 using a glass, and he generally preferred eating from the 
 dish rather than from a plate. Such ill conduct did not 
 pass unnoticed, and for his other faults, of slamming the 
 door violently, or of leaving it open, of remaining motionless 
 or running away when he received directions to do any 
 thing, it was frequently his fate to hear a long lecture, which 
 seldom produced the slightest effect. He seemed daily to 
 become less partial to Aurelia, he called her "mother!" 
 without any tenderness of tone, but was warmly attached to 
 his old nurse, who allowed him in all things to have his own 
 way. 
 
 But she had lately become so indisposed, that she was re- 
 moved from her house into a quiet lodging, and Felix would 
 therefore have been left quite alone, if Mignon had not 
 appeared to him in the form of a guardian angel. The two 
 children amused each other in the most innocent manner. 
 She taught him a number of little songs, which his excellent 
 memory soon enabled him to recite to the great astonish- 
 
262 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 ment of those who heard him. She endeavoured also to 
 explain to him the difficulties of her maps, to which she was 
 still extremely devoted, but her method of instruction was 
 not good. The chief interest which she felt about other 
 countries seemed to consist in inquiring whether their cli- 
 mates were cold or warm. Of the North and South Poles, 
 of the fearful ice which reigns there, and of the warmth 
 which prevails at a distance from those regions she could 
 give an interesting account. Upon hearing that any one 
 had undertaken a journey, she would merely inquire whether 
 he intended to travel towards the North or towards the 
 South, and she would endeavour then to trace his route 
 upon her little maps. "When "Wilhelm spoke of travelling, 
 she invariably paid particular attention to him, and was ex- 
 tremely distressed when any thing interrupted his conversa- 
 tion. She could never be induced to take a part in any 
 play, or even to enter the theatre during a performance, yet 
 she took great pleasure in learning a few odes and poems by 
 heart, which were usually of a serious, solemn character, 
 and she never failed to astonish her hearers when she 
 favoured them with one of her sudden and impromptu recita- 
 tions. 
 
 Serlo, who was accustomed to mark every appearance of 
 opening talent, offered her great encouragement. But he 
 was most delighted with her sweet singing, which though 
 varied, was generally of a cheerful nature, and by displaying 
 a similar kind of talent the harper also had succeeded in 
 winning his favour. 
 
 Although he himself possessed no skill in music, and had 
 not even learned to play upon an instrument, he indulged in 
 the incomparable delights of music upon every possible oppor- 
 tunity. He held a concert every week, and now with the 
 assistance of Mignon, the harper and Laertes, who played 
 upon the violin with some degree of skill, he had formed a 
 very creditable band. 
 
 He was accustomed to say, " that men were so easily con- 
 tented with common pursuits that their spirit and their senses 
 were rendered callous to impressions of the Beautiful and the 
 Perfect, and that it was our duty to promote a taste for those 
 things by every possible means. For none can endure a total 
 deprivation of such enjoyments, and it is only our want of 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 familiarity with the Excellent, which enables us to feel the 
 smallest satisfaction in silly and tasteless novelties. And 
 therefore," he would add, " we should form the habit of 
 hearing a little song, reading a good poem, seeing an excel- 
 lent painting, or uttering a sensible observation every day." 
 
 This train of thought, which was almost natural to Serlo, 
 could not fail to supply his companions with a fund of 
 agreeable conversation, and it was in the midst of in- 
 structive amusements of this nature that a letter bearing a 
 black seal, one day arrived for "Wilhelm. Werner's crest 
 betokened some melancholy news, and Wilhelm was shocked 
 to find that the letter conveyed a brief announcement of his 
 father's death. He had died after a short and sudden 
 illness, leaving his domestic affairs in a highly satisfactory 
 state. 
 
 This unexpected intelligence grievously afflicted Wilhelm. 
 11.' deeply felt how true it is that we often neglect our 
 relatives and friends as long as we pursue our earthly career 
 together, and only then repent of our indifference when the 
 bonds of union have been untimely severed. But his grief 
 for the death of his revered parent was in some measure 
 assuaged by the consciousness, that during his life he had 
 experienced in a very small degree the delights of love or 
 happiness. 
 
 Wilhelm's thoughts were soon directed to his own situa- 
 tion, and the train of his reflections discomposed him not a 
 little. Nothing can be more embarrassing for a man than 
 to experience a great change in his external circumstances, 
 without a corresponding alteration having taken place in his 
 thoughts and feelings. The great crisis which has occurred 
 is not perceived, and the contradiction becomes greater in 
 proportion as the sufferer is less prepared to enter upon his 
 new course of existence. 
 
 Wilhelm found himself in the enjoyment of freedom, at a 
 time when he was far from being at ease with himself. His 
 thoughts were noble, his intentions were pure, and his 
 purpose was honest. All this he could proudly acknowledge 
 to himself, but the past convinced him that he was sadly 
 deficient in experience, and for this reason he was accus- 
 tomed to attach undue importance to the advice of others, 
 and thus he was led still deeper into error. He conceived 
 
264 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 that he could most advantageously correct his deficiencies by 
 noting and collecting the most remarkable things which 
 occurred to him in his course of reading and conversation. 
 Accordingly, he wrote down his own remarks and the obser- 
 vations of other persons when they appeared to him interest- 
 ing, but unfortunately by this course he retained the false as 
 firmly as the true, he became too much attached to one 
 idea or to one principle, and thus he wandered from his 
 natural mode of thought and action, and often followed 
 strange lights for guiding stars. Aurelia's bitterness, and 
 Laertes* cold contempt for mankind improperly misled his 
 judgment, but no one had proved more dangerous to him than 
 Jarno. The clear intellect of that man could justly and 
 correctly appreciate present things, but he erred in the uni- 
 versality with which he exercised his opinions, as the judg- 
 ments of the understanding should be directed with precision 
 to each individual case, and they are usually inaccurate when 
 applied to any other. 
 
 Thus "Wilhelm was wandering further from the paths of 
 wholesome consistency, in proportion as he sought to be at 
 peace with himself, and in this confusion it became easy for 
 his passions to direct all their force against himself, and to 
 perplex him still more in his views of duty. 
 
 The sad news to which we have alluded was converted by 
 Serlo into a matter of personal advantage. He found 
 stronger reasons daily for thinking of re-arranging his 
 company. He felt that he must either renew his old 
 contract, a step to which he was not at all inclined, as 
 several of the actors who thought themselves indispensable 
 were daily becoming more troublesome, or he must entirely 
 remodel the entire body, and this was a measure which he 
 felt far more disposed to adopt. 
 
 He did not personally importune "Wilhelm, but he em- 
 ployed Aurelia and Philina for that purpose ; and as his 
 other companions who were anxious to procure an engage- 
 ment for themselves allowed him to enjoy no rest, he found 
 himself much perplexed in coming to a decision. 
 
 Who could have supposed that a letter from Werner, 
 written with the very opposite intention, would have com- 
 pelled him to form a resolution ? Omitting the introductory 
 part, we subjoin the rest of it without much alteration. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 265 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " IT was, and must always be right, that a man 
 
 should upon every occasion follow his vocation, and display 
 his activity. The good old man had scarcely breathed his 
 last, before the survivors found that nothing in the house 
 was regulated according to his wish. Friends, acquaintances 
 and relations came in throngs, particularly those who ex- 
 pected to serve themselves upon the occasion. They vied 
 with each other in fetching, in carrying, in counting, in 
 writing and reckoning. Whilst some brought wine and 
 cakes, others ate and drank, and no one appeared more 
 earnestly busy than the women, who were employed in pre- 
 paring the mourning. 
 
 " You will not blame me, therefore, my dear friend, ii 
 under such circumstances, I began to think of my own 
 interests. I became as active and as serviceable as possible 
 to your sister, and I stated to her as soon as it was right to 
 do so, that it was now indispensable for us to hasten a 
 marriage, which our parents in their extreme circumspection 
 had hitherto delayed. 
 
 " You must not suppose, however, that we thought for a 
 moment of occupying that large empty house. We were 
 less pretentious and more rational. But you shall hear our 
 plan. After the wedding your sister and your mother will 
 reside with us. 
 
 " l How is that possible ?' you will probably inquire, 
 ' since the house will scarcely furnish accommodation for 
 yourselves. 7 But therein consists our art, my friend ! Skil- 
 ful arrangement will do wonders, and you can scarcely 
 believe how much room they can find, who are content wit h 
 scanty accommodation. We shall sell the large house, as we 
 have found a good opportunity for the purpose, and we can 
 invest the purchase money at a hundred per cent. 
 
 " I hope you will approve of our plan, and that you have 
 not inherited any of those worthless tastes which belonged 
 to your father and grandfather. The one only thought him- 
 self happy when surrounded by countless works of art, of 
 which I will venture to say, no one ever shared the enjoy- 
 ment with him. The other lived amid a display of expensive 
 
266 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 pomp, in which he permitted no one to be happy. "We 
 intend to manage differently, and shall doubtless win your 
 approbation. 
 
 " It is true that in the whole house I possess no place of 
 my own, but the little spot before my writing desk, and I 
 cannot conjecture where in the course of futurity they mean 
 to deposit the cradle, but then, on the other hand, there is 
 plenty of room out of doors. There are coffee houses and 
 clubs in abundance for the husband, walks and drives for 
 the wife, and places of public amusement for both. But our 
 great advantage consists in this, that as the round table will 
 be completely filled, it will be impossible for our father to 
 invite a set of friends to dinner, who will only turn him into 
 ridicule, in proportion as he endeavours to provide them 
 with entertainment. 
 
 " There will be no superfluities in our house ! no excess of 
 furniture or apparatus ! no carriages, no horses ! Nothing 
 but money, and the liberty of doing every day whatever we 
 please in reason. No wardrobes, always the best and newest 
 on the back, the husband may wear his coat threadbare, and 
 the wife may vary her gown the moment the fashion 
 changes. Nothing in my mind is more insupportable than 
 a whole shop full of trumpery. If I were offered the most 
 valuable jewel on condition that I should wear it every day, 
 I would refuse the present, for who can enjoy the smallest 
 pleasure in the contemplation of unproductive capital ? 
 This then is my confession of faith. To do one's business 
 to make money to be happy with one's family, and as for 
 the rest of the world only to consider how far we may 
 employ them to our advantage. 
 
 " But I hear you inquire what provision do you make 
 for me in this wise arrangement ? Where shall I find 
 shelter when you have sold my father's house, and not the 
 smallest room remains for me in yours ? 
 
 " This, my dear brother, is a material point, and herein I 
 think I can render you a service. But you must first con- 
 descend to accept my congratulations upon the admirable 
 manner in which you have lately spent your time. 
 
 " But tell me how you have contrived, in the course of a 
 few weeks, to become so conversant with every thing that 
 is useful and interesting. Notwithstanding my high opinion 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 267 
 
 of your powers, I did not give you credit for so much dili- 
 gence and attention. Your journal proves with what profit 
 you are travelling. Tour account of the iron and copper 
 mines is excellent, and evinces your knowledge of the sub- 
 ject. I visited them once myself, but my description is very 
 incomplete when compared with yours. Tour whole letter 
 on the linen trade is replete with information, and your 
 observations on commercial competition are peculiarly 
 striking. Here and there I find some trifling errors in your 
 arithmetic, but they are, however, very excusable. 
 
 <A But what chiefly delights myself and my father, is your 
 thorough acquaintance with husbandry and the improve- 
 ments of landed property. We have some thoughts of 
 purchasing a large estate which is now under sequestration, 
 in a very promising neighbourhood. We shall pay for it 
 with the money arising from the sale of the family house, 
 and partly by money which we shall borrow for the purpose, 
 a portion may remain unpaid. We intend that you shall 
 proceed thither, to take charge of the improvements, and 
 thus in a few years the land will have increased one-third in 
 value, without any exaggeration. We can then sell it again, 
 purchase a larger estate, and so continue to improve and 
 traffic as before. For all this you are our man. 
 
 " In the mean time our pens at home shall not be idle, and 
 before long we shall be in a very enviable condition. 
 
 " Now, farewell ! Enjoy yourself upon your journey, go 
 wherever you can find contentment and profit. We shall 
 not require your services for the next six months ; in the 
 mean time you can enjoy yourself in the world, since a wise 
 man can find the greatest of all advantages hi travelling. 
 \vell ! I rejoice at being so nearly related to you, and 
 that we are moreover united by a similar spirit of activity.'* 
 
 Although this letter was admirably written, and contained 
 a store of economical truths, it was for more than one reason 
 displeasing to Wilhelm. The eulogiums passed upon his 
 alleged statistical, technological, and rural information, 
 operated upon him like a silent censure. The ideal picture 
 which his brother-in-law drew of the happiness of civic life, 
 was by no means pleasing to him ; on the contrary, a secret 
 spirit of contradiction inspired him strongly with the very 
 opposite notions. He felt convinced that upon the stage 
 
268 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 alone he could perfect the education which he sought to give 
 himself, and in this opinion he became the more confirmed, in 
 proportion as Werner unintentionally opposed it. He there- 
 fore collected all his arguments together, and strengthened 
 his own opinion of their truth, conceiving it right to repre- 
 sent them in a favourable point of view to Werner, and in 
 this humour he composed an answer, which we shall proceed 
 to transcribe. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " YOUR letter is so well written, and its thoughts are si 
 wise and prudent, that they cannot be surpassed. And yet 
 you will pardon me for saying, that a man's opinions, reso- 
 lutions, and actions may be right, though they should be the 
 very opposite of yours. The object of your thoughts and 
 wishes seems to be boundless acquisition, and an easy con- 
 tented mode of enjoyment. I need scarcely observe that I 
 can find nothing in all this to charm me. 
 
 " But first I must confess with grief that under the pres- 
 sure of necessity, and with the assistance of a friend, my 
 journal was compiled from various books, with the intention 
 of pleasing my father, and though I know something of the 
 subjects therein mentioned, yet I am far from understanding 
 them, nor can I occupy myself with their study. What 
 can it avail me to manufacture good iron whilst my own 
 breast is full of dross ? Or to what purpose were it to un- 
 derstand the art of reducing landed estates to order, when 
 my own thoughts are not in harmony ? 
 
 " To explain myself in a word. The education of my own 
 mind has been my constant though secret purpose, from my 
 earliest youth. I still entertain this desire, and the means 
 of attaining it are daily becoming clearer to me. I have 
 seen more of the world than you suppose, and I have profited 
 more by my experience than you would believe. Pay some 
 attention therefore to what I am about to say, though it 
 should not be wholly in accordance with your opinions. 
 
 " Were I a nobleman, our dispute would soon be settled, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 269 
 
 but as I am a simple citizen, I must take my own course, 
 and I wish you may be able to understand me. I know not 
 how it is in other countries, but in Germany no person 
 i)t a nobleman can possibly acquire a liberal and per- 
 sonal education. A citizen may gain distinction, and by an 
 extreme effort may educate his mind, but his personal qualit ics 
 must be lost to him, in spite of all his exertions. As the 
 nobleman who associates with persons of distinguished 
 rank must necessarily acquire the most elegant manners, 
 which, as no house is ever closed to him, become at 
 length natural and unconstrained, and since in court or in 
 camp his figure and his person are considered valuable pos- 
 sessions, he has reason enough to show that he is conscious 
 of their worth. A certain stately gracefulness in common 
 things, and a species of light elegance in earnest and 
 important matters becomes him well, because he thus proves 
 that he is always at ease. He is a public character, and the 
 more refined his movements, the more sonorous his voice, the 
 more collected and reserved his whole deportment, the more 
 perfect he becomes. If he always acts in the same manner 
 towards high and low, towards friends and relatives, 
 none can ever censure him, and none can wish that his 
 habits should change. He may be considered cold and 
 cautious, but he will always be thought sensible and prudent. 
 If he can rule himself outwardly in every moment of his life, 
 no one can make any further demands upon him, and every 
 thing else which he possesses, capabilities, talents or riches, 
 all appear so many unnecessary gifts. 
 
 " Now only fancy a citizen laying claim to any of these 
 advantages, he would utterly fail, and his failure would be 
 the more complete, in proportion as his talents and natural 
 endowments were the more distinguished. 
 
 " Since in ordinary life the nobleman is fettered by no 
 restraint, and from his stock kings and kingly figures 
 emanate, he can always appear before his equals with a 
 silent consciousness of his own dignity, and can ever press 
 onward in his course, while nothing more becomes the 
 citizen than a tacit consciousness of the limits within which 
 he is restrained. The question with him is not ' what are 
 you ?' but * what have you got ? what discernment, know- 
 ledge, talent or riches ?' The nobleman gives all that he has 
 
2/0 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 in the display of his personal qualities, but to these the 
 citizen can lay no claim. The former is justified \nseeming, 
 the latter is compelled to be, and all mere pretensions on 
 his part are ridiculous and absurd. The former must do and 
 act, the latter only contributes and procures, he must 
 cultivate some individual talent, in order to be useful, and 
 it is well understood that in his existence there can be no 
 harmony, because in order to render one talent useful, he 
 must abandon the exercise of every other. 
 
 "The cause of this difference may perhaps exist less in 
 the assumption of the noble classes and the submission of 
 the citizen, than in the very constitution of society, and it 
 does not concern me much whether or in what respects any 
 alteration may be eifected, it is quite enough for me as affairs 
 go, to think of myself and endeavour to save myself and 
 attain an object which I find indispensable. 
 
 " I must confess that I feel an irresistible impulse to 
 pursue this harmonious cultivation of my nature, which has 
 been denied to me by my birth, and since our separation, 
 practice has enabled me to accomplish much. I have got 
 rid of much of my accustomed embarrassment, and can 
 conduct myself with considerable ease. I have also improved 
 in my speech and in my voice, and I may say without 
 vanity that I make a very tolerable appearance in society. 
 I shall not conceal that my wish to become a public charac- 
 ter, and to widen my sphere of attraction and influence, is 
 every day becoming stronge^. To this is joined my taste 
 for poetry, and every thing connected therewith, and the 
 necessity of cultivating my mind in order that, in my 
 indispensable enjoyments, I may esteem nothing but what 
 is really good and beautiful. You will at once perceive that 
 the stage alone can supply what I require, and that in no 
 other element can I educate myself according to my wishes. 
 "Upon the stage the man of cultivated mind may display his 
 personal accomplishments as effectively as in the upper 
 classes of society, his bodily and mental endowments must 
 improve in equal proportion, and there better than in any 
 other place, I can assume the twofold character of seeming 
 and of actually being. If I wish for any other employment, 
 I can find artificial troubles in abundance, and with them I 
 may daily exercise my patience. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 271 
 
 " Do not seeK to argue this point with me, as before you 
 write I shall have taken the first step. In obedience to 
 overpowering prejudices, I shall change my name, as I own 
 I should blush at appearing as ' Meister upon the stage. 
 Farewell. My fortune is in such good keeping, that I need 
 not trouble myself about it. I shall obtain all I want from 
 you, it will not be much, for I trust that my art will prove 
 sufficient for my support." 
 
 The letter was scarcely dispatched before Wilhelm acted 
 pursuant to its contents, and to the great astonishment of 
 Serlo and the rest of the company, declared that he had re- 
 solved to become an actor, and to sign a contract to that 
 effect upon reasonable terms. An agreement was quickly 
 made, for Serlo had long since proposed terms, with which 
 "Wilhelm and the others were abundantly content. The 
 whole of that unhappy company, with whom we have been 
 so long entertained, were therefore at once engaged, although 
 with the exception of Laertes, not one of them evinced the 
 slightest gratitude to Wilhelm. They had appealed to him 
 without confidence, and they accepted his services without 
 thanks. The greater part of them were rather disposed to 
 ascribe their success to the influence of Philina, and they 
 accordingly expressed their gratitude to her. In the mean- 
 time the contracts were prepared for signature, and by an 
 inexplicable association of ideas, at the very moment when 
 Wilhelm was writing his assumed name, there arose before 
 his mind the appearance of that retired spot in the forest, 
 where he had lain wounded in Philina's lap. He saw 
 the lovely amazon riding through the wood, mounted on 
 her grey charger she approached him she dismounted. 
 Her friendly sympathy caused her alternately to advance 
 and to retire. At length she stood before him. The cloak 
 fell from her shoulders, her countenance, her form shone 
 with inexpressible beauty, and then- she disappeared. He 
 subscribed his name mechanically without well knowing 
 what he did, and then for the first time perceived that Mig- 
 non was standing at his side, and was making a gentle effort 
 to hold back his arm and to restrain his hand. 
 
272 WILIIELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 CHAPTER IY. 
 
 ONE of the conditions which Wilhelm had exacted, before 
 he went upon the stage, was not acceded to without some 
 hesitation on the part of Serlo. He had required that the 
 play of Hamlet should be acted in its entire state, and with- 
 out mutilation, to which extraordinary request the latter had 
 acceded, so far as it might be possible. But upon this 
 point they had frequent disputes, as their opinions differed 
 on the subject of what might or might not be possible, and 
 also with respect to how much might be omitted, without 
 amounting to a mutilation. 
 
 Wilhelm was in that happy season when a man cannot 
 j understand how a defect can exist in a maiden whom he 
 \ loves, or in an author whom he reveres. Our sympathy 
 ' with them is so complete, so wholly in accord, that we feel 
 as if a perfect harmony existed between us. Serlo, however, 
 made too many nice distinctions. His clear understanding 
 would only acknowledge that a work of art was a more or 
 less imperfect whole. He thought that as plays usually 
 went, there was not much reason to be scrupulous about 
 them, and therefore he conceived that Shakspeare, and more 
 especially Hamlet, might advantageously suffer some curtail- 
 ment. 
 
 But Wilhelm refused to listen to him, when he spoke of 
 separating the wheat from the chaff. " It is not a question 
 M of wheat and chaff," he exclaimed; "here is a tree, with 
 ' boughs, branches, leaves, blossoms and fruit. Is not the 
 one inseparable from the others, and does it not exist by 
 their means ?" Serlo replied, " that no one ever brought 
 an entire tree upon the table that the artist presented his 
 guests with golden apples upon dishes of silver.'' They ex- 
 hausted their store of similitudes, but they disagreed still 
 more in their opinions. 
 
 Wilhelm was almost reduced to despair, when Serlo ad- 
 vised him to adopt the simple plan of coming to a resolution, 
 of seizing his pen and striking out from the tragedy any 
 passage which might present a difficulty, in fine of compres- 
 sing several characters into one, and he advised him if he 
 did not understand such a proceeding or had not the heart 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 273 
 
 to execute it, to leave the task to him and he would soon 
 dispatch it. 
 
 " That is not according to our agreement," observed Wil- 
 helm ; " how can you, with all your taste, evince so much 
 levity ?" 
 
 " My friend," replied Serlo, " you will act as I am doing, 
 before we have been long together. I know the great ob- 
 jection to treating authors thus, it has probably not been 
 practised upon any theatre in the world. But what theatre 
 has ever been so completely neglected as ours ? Authors 
 compel us to resort to this sad mutilating system, and the 
 public encourages it. How many pieces are there which are 
 quite un adapted to our numbers, to our scenery, to our 
 theatrical machinery, to the time, the talents, and the physi- 
 cal strength of the actors, and yet we are expected to con- 
 tinue performing them, and also to introduce new pieces. 
 Are we not therefore entitled to avail ourselves of this free- 
 dom, since we derive as much profit from mutilated works as 
 from entire productions ? The public itself concedes the 
 privilege to us. Few Germans, and perhaps few persons of 
 any modern nation can appreciate an sesthetical whole, they 
 blame and praise according to isolated passages, and for whom 
 is this a greater happiness than for the actors themselves, 
 since the stage itself is little else than a patched and muti- 
 lated affair." 
 
 "Is?" answered Wilhelm, "but must it remain so? 
 Do not persuade me that you are right, as no power on earth 
 shall ever prevail upon me to perform a contract into which 
 I shall have entered under the strangest misapprehension." 
 
 Serlo turned the subject with a jest, and then persuaded 
 Wilhelm to reflect upon their repeated conversations re- 
 specting Hamlet, and to contrive some happy alteration of 
 the play. 
 
 AJfter a few days spent in solitude, Wilhelm returned 
 with a look of satisfaction. " I most sadly mistake," he 
 exclaimed, " if I have not at last discovered how the whole 
 affair may be managed, indeed I am persuaded that Shak- 
 speare himself would have contrived it so, if his genius had 
 not been wholly occupied about the catastrophe, or perhaps 
 misled by the novels which supplied him with the incidents." 
 "Let us hear!" said Serlo, as he took his seat with 
 
 T 
 
274 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 gravity, upon the sofa ; " I will listen quietly, but I will judge 
 with rigour. " 
 
 Wilhelm proceeded : " I am not afraid. Only listen. I 
 make two divisions in the composition of this play, after the 
 strictest investigation and most mature reflection. The first 
 consists of the principal internal relations of the persons 
 and incidents, the powerful eifects which proceed from the 
 characters and actions of the chief figures, these are supremely 
 excellent, and the order in which they are arranged is in- 
 capable of improvement. They must not be injured by any 
 interference, nor must they even be changed in form. These 
 are the excellencies which every one longs to see, which no 
 one should presume to touch, and which make a deep im- 
 pression on the soul. Accordingly, I have been informed 
 that they are all introduced upon the German theatre. But 
 our countrymen have failed in my opinion with respect to 
 the second class of objects for which this play is remarkable. 
 I allude to the external incidents whereby the persons are 
 brought from place to place, or become united in different 
 ways, by certain accidental circumstances. These they have 
 wholly omitted, or have considered as unimportant. It is true 
 that these threads are somewhat slack and delicate, though 
 they certainly run through the entire piece, connecting what 
 would otherwise be wholly disunited, and which in truth 
 does actually become so, when you have severed them, and 
 fancy that you have achieved something by leaving the ends 
 remaining. 
 
 " By external incidents I mean the disturbances in Nor- 
 way, the war with young Fortinbras, the embassy to his 
 aged uncle, the arranged feud, the departure of young For- 
 tinbras for Poland, and his eventual return ; likewise the 
 return of Horatio from Wittenberg, Hamlet's desire to 
 proceed thither ; the journey of Laertes to France, his return ; 
 the despatch of Hamlet to England, his capture by pirates, 
 and the death of the two courtiers through the medium of 
 the letter. All these incidents might serve very properly to 
 swell the dimensions of a novel, but they injure the unity of 
 a piece, in which the hero acts without any settled plan, and 
 are in every way objectionable." 
 
 " Now I listen to you with pleasure !'' exclaimed Serlo. 
 
 " Do not. interrupt me," said Wilhelm ; " in all probability 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 275 
 
 you will not continue to praise me. These mistakes re- 
 semble the temporary supports of a building, which you dare 
 not remove, without having previously built a firm wall as a 
 substitute. My plan, therefore, would not alter those grand 
 situations, or at least would interfere with them collectively 
 and individually as little as possible, but would not hesitate 
 to reject at once all those external and distracting motives, 
 and substitute a single one in their place." 
 
 " And what may that be ?" asked Serlo, rising from his 
 seat. 
 
 " It will be found already in the play," answered Wilhelm ; 
 " I should only require to make a proper use of it. I allude 
 to the disturbances in Norway. But I will endeavour to 
 explain my plan. 
 
 " After the death of the elder Hamlet, the lately sub- 
 jugated Norwegians become discontented. The ruler of the 
 country sends his son Horatio to Denmark. He had been a 
 former schoolfellow of Hamlet, and had excelled all his 
 cotemporaries in prudence and bravery. It was intended 
 that he should expedite the preparation of the fleet, which 
 had made but slow progress under the administration of the 
 new luxurious monarch. Horatio had been acquainted with 
 the former king, having fought in his battles and having 
 been counted among his favourites events which could 
 by no means impair the effect of the first ghost scene. The 
 new monarch receives Horatio, and sends Laertes to Norway 
 with new r s that the fleet will soon arrive, whilst Horatio 
 is ordered to hasten the preparations. Hamlet's mother 
 however will not consent that her son shall proceed to sea 
 with Horatio, pursuant to his wish." 
 
 " Thank Heaven !" cried Serlo, " we shall thus escape 
 Wittenberg and the College, with which I have always felt 
 annoyed. I approve of your plan highly, for with the excep- 
 tion of those two distant objects, Norway and the fleet, the 
 audience need not exercise their imaginations, they will see 
 every thing, all will take place before their eyes ; whereas, 
 according to the other plan, the imagination is busied in 
 every part of the world/ 7 
 
 " You may perceive without difficulty," said Wilhelm, 
 " how I intend to preserve the connection of the rest. When 
 Hamlet informs Horatio of his stepfather's crime, the latter 
 
276 TVILHELM MEISTEtt's 
 
 advises him to proceed to Norway, to ingratiate himself with 
 the army, and to return at their head. Hamlet is now be- 
 coming dangerous to the King and Queen, and they can 
 find no better means of disposing of him than to send him 
 to the fleet, accompanied by Bosencrantz and Guildenstern 
 as spies upon his actions. But Laertes returning in the 
 mean time, they resolve that that youth who is exasperated 
 even to a determination to commit murder, shall be sent 
 after him. The fleet is detained by adverse winds. Hamlet 
 once more returns, his wandering in the churchyard may be 
 contrived by some opportune circumstance, and his en- 
 countering Laertes at the grave of Ophelia is a grand and 
 indispensable event. The King now conceives it more 
 advisable that Hamlet should be got rid of at once ; the 
 ceremony of his departure and his apparent reconciliation 
 with Laertes are joyously celebrated. Knightly sports are 
 accordingly held, and the combat ensues between Hamlet 
 and Laertes. Without the four corpses the piece could not 
 be ended. It would not do that a single one of the parties 
 should survive. A popular election ensues for the choice of 
 a king, and Hamlet's aying voice supports Horatio." 
 
 " Sit down instantly, ' cried Serlo, " and finish the piece. 
 Your conception has my entire approbation. You must not 
 allow your zeal to cool." % 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WILHELM had been for some time engaged in the trans- 
 lation of Hamlet, and had used Wieland's spirited edition 
 of that author, through whom indeed he had first become 
 acquainted with Shakespeare. He now added whatever had 
 been omitted in the original, and was in possession of a 
 complete copy of the play at the very time when he had 
 come to an agreement with Serlo about the mode in which 
 it should be treated. In pursuance of his plan, he now 
 commenced to erase, to insert, to separate, to unite, to alter, 
 and again to restore, but however satisfied he might be with 
 his own ideas, it still seemed to him, that in the execution he 
 was only spoiling the original. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 277 
 
 As soon as he had completed his task, he read it over to 
 Serlo and the other members of the company. They ex- 
 pressed themselves delighted, and Serlo indulged in many 
 complimentary observations. 
 
 " You have very properly decided," he said, amongst other 
 things, " that certain external circumstances are essential to 
 this piece, but they should be more simple in their nature 
 than the great poet has represented them. All that takes 
 place outside the theatre, which the audience cannot actually 
 see, and must therefore imagine for themselves, serves as a 
 species of background before which the acting figures move, 
 "lour large and simple view of the fleet and Norway will 
 improve the piece considerably. If they were removed 
 nothing would remain but a mere family scene, and the noble 
 idea of a royal house perishing, by the effect of internal 
 vice and crime would not be pourtrayed with becoming 
 dignity. But the original background is so varied, so uncer- 
 tain and confused, that it would injure the effect of the 
 characters." 
 
 "Wilhelm once more defended Shakespeare, maintaining 
 that his work had been writen for islanders, for Englishmen, 
 who are accustomed to ships, and voyages to the coasts of 
 France, and to privateers, and that what seemed quite natural 
 to them, proved perplexing and distracting to others. 
 
 Serlo assented, and both agreed that as the play was to be 
 produced upon the German stage, the former scenes and 
 more simple background would answer better for the repre- 
 sentation. 
 
 The characters had been already distributed. Serlo 
 undertook Polonius, Aurelia played Ophelia, Laertes the 
 part designated by his name, a stout cheerful youth, who 
 had lately arrived, assumed the character of Horatio, 
 but the King and Ghost occasioned some difficulty. The 
 old man, it is true, was ready for either, and Serlo pro- 
 posed that the Pedant should play the King, against which 
 Wilhelm uttered the loudest protests. They could not come 
 to any decision. 
 
 "Wilhelm had retained the two characters of Rosencrantz 
 and Guildenstern in his adaptation. " Why have you not 
 joined those two characters together?" inquired Serlo, " the 
 abbreviation could be very easily made." 
 
278 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 "I can permit no such curtailment," answered "VVilhelm, 
 " it would injure both the sense and the effect. The spirit 
 of these two characters cannot possibly be represented by a 
 single person. It is in trifles of this nature that Shakespeare 
 exhibits his greatness. How could one man express the 
 varied emotions of these two individuals, their soft ap- 
 proaches, their flatteries, their bowings, their assentings, 
 their obsequiousness, their failings, their yieldings, their 
 wheedlings, their assumption, their emptiness, their knavery, 
 and their ineptitude ? They would require a dozen characters 
 at least, if they could be found. It is only in society that 
 they could be effectual, in fact, they are society, and Shake- 
 speare proved his sagacity and wisdom in contriving two 
 such characters. I require them, moreover, as contrasts to 
 the simple, noble, and excellent Horatio." 
 
 " I understand you," said Serlo, " and we can manage it 
 easily, by giving one of the characters to Elrnira. It will be 
 nil right if they only look well, and I will dress and arrange 
 them so that it will be a pleasure to behold them." 
 
 Philina felt delighted that she was to act the Duchess in 
 the by-play. " I will show it to be quite natural that a wo- 
 man should marry a second husband instantly, notwithstand- 
 ing her intense love for her first. I expect I shall receive 
 the loudest applause, and that every one shall wish he were 
 the third." 
 
 Anrelia looked displeased at this observation. Her dislike 
 of Philina seemed to increase daily. 
 
 " It is a pity we cannot have a ballet," remarked Serlo, 
 " we might then ' introduce a pas de deux between you and 
 your two first husbands, the old harper might be lulled to 
 sleep by the music, and your pretty little feet and ancles 
 would look so charming upon the side stage." 
 
 " You know very little about my ancles," answered Philina 
 pettishly, "and as for my feet," she continued, reaching 
 down under the table and taking off her slippers, which she 
 held up before Serlo, " here are their cases, and I defy you 
 to find a prettier pair." 
 
 " Well I own it would be difficult," said he, looking at the 
 diminutive slippers, " one does not often see anything half 
 so charming." 
 
 They were of Paris workmanship ; Philina had received 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 279 
 
 tli em as a present from the Countess, whose foot was remark- 
 able for its beauty. 
 
 " It is a sweet sight !" said Serb, " my heart beats at the 
 very prospect." 
 
 " How it throbs! 1 ' replied Philina. 
 
 " There is nothing more delightful than a pair of slippers 
 of first-rate workmanship," continued Serlo, " and yet their 
 sound is more charming even than their beauty." He took 
 them and let them fall several times alternately upon the table. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" said Philina, " give them back to 
 me." 
 
 Philina took them from him, exclaiming, "You have 
 squeezed them till they are quite spoiled ; you have made 
 them too large." She began to play with them, rubbing the 
 soles together. " How warm they are !" she cried, as she 
 held one of them to her cheek : then rubbing it once more 
 and holding it out to Serlo, he was complaisant enough to 
 feel, when she cried, " Clip, clap !" and at the same time 
 gave him a smart knock on the knuckles with the heel, which 
 made him scream and draw back his hand. " I will teach 
 you how to joke about my slippers/' said Philina, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " And I will teach you how to treat old people like chil- 
 dren/' cried Serlo in reply, leaping up and seizing her, and 
 kissing her repeatedly, in spite of her pretended efforts to 
 resist him. During the struggle, her long hair had fallen 
 down and streamed around the group, the chair had been 
 upset, and Aurelia, inwardly vexed at such unseemly conduct, 
 arose in a state of indignation. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 ALTHOUGH in recasting the play of Hamlet, many cha- 
 racters were omitted, a sufficient number remained ; so many, 
 in fact, that the company was scarcely sufficient for its per- 
 formance. 
 
 Under these circumstances/ 1 observed Serlo, " the 
 
280 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 prompter must issue from his retreat, become one of us, and 
 turn actor." 
 
 " He has often won my admiration in the post which he 
 fills/' observed Wilhelm. 
 
 " I do not think that there can be a more perfect assistant 
 than he is," added Serlo. " Whilst no spectator can hear 
 him, we actors can catch every syllable he utters. He 
 seems to have formed his voice expressly for his art, and is 
 like our good genius who whispers to us intelligibly in time 
 of necessity. He thoroughly comprehends that portion of 
 the actor's part in whicli he is perfect, and knows from a 
 distance where his memory is likely to fail. More than once, 
 when I have scarcely read over my part, he has repeated it 
 to me word for word, and I have got through successfully. 
 He has, however, some peculiarities which would render 
 another person wholly useless. He takes such a cordial 
 interest in some pieces, that, though he does not declaim 
 them he recites them with too much pathos, and he has more 
 than once quite put me out by this objectionable habit." 
 
 " And another of his peculiarities," observed Aurelia, 
 " caused me upon one occasion absolutely to break down in 
 my part." 
 
 " How could that happen with so attentive a person ?" 
 inquired Wilhelm. 
 
 " He becomes so deeply moved at certain passages," 
 answered Aurelia, "that he actually sheds tears and quite 
 loses himself, and they are not exactly the most pathetic 
 parts which produce this effect. They are, to express my 
 meaning clearly, those beautiful passages, from which the 
 pure spirit of the poet looks forth with bright beaming eyes ; 
 passages at which some rejoice deeply, but which many thou- 
 sands entirely overlook." 
 
 " And possessing such tender feelings, why does he not 
 appear on the stage ?" 
 
 " A hoarse voice and a formal carriage exclude him from 
 it, and his melancholy nature shuts him out from society," 
 answered Serlo. " How have I laboured in vain to make him 
 intimate with me ? He reads admirably, as indeed I have never 
 heard another read, and nobody better understands the deli- 
 cate boundary between declamatory and pathetic recitation." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 281 
 
 " We have found the man we want," cried Wilhelm. 
 " What a fortunate discovery ! He is the very man to recite 
 the passage of 'The rugged Pyrrhus.' " 
 
 "It requires your talent," said Serlo, "to turn every 
 object to its proper use." 
 
 " Indeed, I was sadly afraid," said Wilhelm, " that we 
 should have been obliged to omit that passage, and it would 
 have injured the whole performance." 
 
 " I cannot precisely see that," answered Aurelia. 
 
 "But I hope you will soon agree with me," said Wilhelm. 
 " Shakespeare has introduced the travelling players with a 
 double object. In the first place, the man who recites the 
 death of Priam with so much pathos, produces a deep 
 impression on the Prince himself ; he awakens the conscience 
 of the doubting youth, and thus the scene becomes the pre- 
 lude to that act in which the little play exerts such a 
 powerful effect upon the King. Hamlet feels himself re- 
 ouked by the actor, who can become so warmly interested 
 in fictitious woes, and the thought of testing the conscience 
 of his stepfather is thus suggested to him. What a glorious 
 soliloquy is that which concludes the second act ! How 
 delighted I shall feel when I recite it ! 
 
 " ' ! what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! 
 Is it not monstrous that this player here, 
 But in a fiction in a dream of passion, 
 Could force his soul so to his own conceit, 
 That from her working all his visage waned: 
 Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, 
 A broken voice, and his whole function suiting- 
 With forms to his conceit ! And all for nothing ! 
 For Hecuba ! What's Hecuba to him, 
 Or he to Hecuba, that he should weep for her ?' " 
 
 " If we could but bring our hero upon the stage !" said 
 Aurelia. 
 
 " We must accomplish the plan gradually," replied Serlo. 
 "He may read the passage at our* rehearsal, and we can 
 say that it is intended for an actor whom we expect, and 
 thus we may by degrees approach our object." 
 
 When they had agreed upon this point, the conversation 
 turned upon the character of the Ghost. Wilhelm would 
 not consent to give the part of the living King to the Pe- 
 
282 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 dant, that so the old man might play the Ghost : he proposed 
 that they should rather wait a little, as some ther actors 
 were expected, and amongst them they might pe haps find a 
 more suitable person. 
 
 We may therefore conjecture Wilhelm' s astonishment, 
 when upon his return home that evening, he found the fol- 
 lowing note lying upon his table, sealed with a strange 
 cypher, and addressed to him in his theatrical name : 
 
 " We know, O singular youth ! that thou art in a state of 
 great perplexity. Thou canst scarcely find actors for Ham- 
 let, to say nothing of the Ghost. But thy zeal deserves a 
 miracle. We cannot work miracles, and yet something 
 miraculous shall happen. Only have faith and the Ghost 
 si i all appear at the proper time ! Courage ! be collected ! 
 No reply is necessary, we shall know thy decision." 
 
 He hastened to Serlo with this extraordinary note, who 
 read and re-read it, and at length said with a grave air that 
 it was a matter of some importance, and they should consi- 
 der whether they might risk it. They turned the subject in 
 a thousand lights ; Aurelia in the mean time remained 
 silent, smiling occasionally, and when she adverted to the 
 topic a few days afterwards-, she expressed her firm opinion 
 that it was a joke of Serlo's. She desired Wilhelm to cease 
 his anxiety, and to expect the Ghost with patience. 
 
 Serlo was in the best of humours. The actors who were 
 on the point of leaving the company exerted themselves to 
 the utmost in order that their absence might be missed, and 
 from the zeal of the new performers the most favourable 
 results were anticipated. 
 
 Wilhelm's society had produced a decided influence upon 
 Serlo. He now conversed more about art ; but he was a 
 German, and these people seldom give much account of 
 themselves. Wilhelm took notes of many of their conver- 
 sations, but as we cannot so frequently interrupt our narra- 
 tive, we must communicate the substance of them to our 
 readers upon some other occasion. 
 
 One evening, Serlo was very merry in his remarks about 
 the character of Polonius, and the manner in which it 
 should be performed. '' I shall endeavour," he said, " to 
 represent a very worthy man in a favourable light. I shall 
 exert myself to pourtray his various characteristics in a 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 283 
 
 becoming manner, his repose and confidence, his emptiness 
 and self-importance, his pliancy and meanness, his candour 
 and sycophancy, his sincere roguery and deceptive truth. 
 I will paint this grey-headed, time-serving, and patient old 
 rogue in the most courtly colours, and the occasionally boid 
 strokes of our author's pencil will prove of some service to 
 my task. I will speak like a book where I am prepared, and 
 like a simpleton when I am in good spirits. I shall be 
 absurd enough to coincide with every one, and clever enough 
 never to notice when I am turned into ridicule. I have not 
 often found a part which affords me so much malicious 
 satisfaction." 
 
 " I wish I could hope as much from mine," observed Au- 
 relia. " I am neither young nor sufficiently tender-hearted 
 to like my character. Of one thing, however, 1 am unfor- 
 tunately conscious. I shall not be deficient in the feeling 
 which turns Ophelia's brain." 
 
 ' \\\ must not look at the character so strictly," said 
 Wilhelm, " for I am satisfied that my anxiety to play Ham- 
 let has caused me to commit many errors in my study of 
 the part. The more I consider the performance, the more 
 plainly I perceive that I possess no single trait of feature 
 or of form such as Shakespeare has intended for his hero ; 
 and when I consider how intimately every part is connected, 
 I despair of producing a proper effect." 
 
 " You are commencing your new course of life with a 
 becoming feeling of conscientiousness," observed Serlo. 
 " The actor adapts himself to his character as well as he 
 can, the part must suit itself to him. But how has Shake- 
 speare pourtrayed his Hamlet ? Is it so completely unlike 
 you ?'' 
 
 " In the first place, Hamlet is a fair-haired youth," 
 answered Wilhelm. 
 
 " That is a far-fetched idea," said Aurelia. " Where do 
 you find it P" 
 
 " He is a Dane a Northman, and of course fair-haired 
 and blue-eyed by descent." 
 
 " Do you suppose the thought occurred to Shakespeare ?" 
 
 " I do not mean to say that it is actually expressed, but in 
 connection with other passages it seems to me undeniable. 
 The fencing wearies him, he becomes easily heated by the 
 
284 WILHELM MEISTEK'S 
 
 exercise, and the Queen remarks, * He is fat and scant of 
 breath.' Can you suppose that he is otherwise than fair and 
 well-conditioned ? Dark haired people in their youth are 
 of a very different constitution. And does not his melan- 
 choly and inactivity, his soft sorrow, and his perpetual inde- 
 cision agree better with such a figure than with that of a 
 slender, dark haired youth ? From the latter, you would 
 expect more determination and resolution." 
 
 "You are destroying my ideal of the character," cried 
 Aurelia. " Do not talk of a fat Hamlet ! Do not think of 
 him as a stout prince. Give us rather a character that will 
 move and delight us. The intention of the author is of less 
 consequence than our pleasure, and we require a charm suited 
 to our ideas." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ONE evening the company was engaged in discussing the 
 question whether the novel or the drama was better entitled 
 to the favour of the public : Serlo, maintained that an argu- 
 ment upon such a question could be productive of no result, 
 as both kinds of composition might be excellent in their 
 way, although each should be restrained within its own 
 proper limits. 
 
 '* I am not quite certain about that," said Wilhelm. 
 " "Who can be so ?" replied Serlo, " and yet it were perhaps 
 worth while to examine the subject more closely." 
 
 After a long conversation the following may be considered 
 as the result of their discussion. 
 
 Human nature and human action are pourtrayed equally 
 in the drama and in the novel. And the difference which 
 exists between these two kinds of fiction, does not merely 
 consist in their outward form, that is to say, in the fact that 
 in one case the hero speaks, whilst in the other, his adven- 
 tures are only narrated. It happens, unfortunately, that 
 many dramas are but novels, which are carried on by means 
 of dialogue ; and it would be quite easy to compose a drama 
 in the epistolary form. 
 
APPBEXTICES1IIP. 285 
 
 Iii the novel, however, sentiments and events are specially 
 delineated in the drama, characters and deeds. The course 
 of the novel is necessarily slow. The sentiments of the 
 principal character must by some contrivance impede the 
 too rapid development of the plot. But the drama should 
 hasten forward, and the character of the hero should unfold 
 itself quickly and require an artificial restraint. The hero 
 A of the novel should be passive, or at least he should not be 
 3 active in a high degree, but in the drama we look for action and 
 deeds. Graudison, Clarissa, Pamela, the Vicar of Wakefield, 
 and Tom Jones himself, are 'if not passive, at least retarding 
 characters ; and all the incidents are formed upon the model 
 of their sentiments. But the hero of the drama models 
 nothing for himself, all the events oppose him, and he either 
 clears and removes every obstacle from his path, or else he 
 becomes their victim. 
 
 Every one agreed that in the novel something might be 
 left to the operation of chance ; subject, however, to the 
 constant control and guidance of the sentiments expressed 
 by the several characters ; whilst, on the other hand, that 
 fate which impels men forward in spite of themselves to an 
 unexpected catastrophe by the instrumentality of outward 
 independent circumstances, can only be admitted in the 
 drama ; they were moreover of opinion that chance might 
 occasion pathetic, but never tragic situations ; that fate on 
 the other hand should always be terrible, and become in the 
 highest degree tragic, when it confounds the guilty and 
 guiltless in one common ruin. 
 
 These reflections led them back to the consideration of 
 the wonderful character of Hamlet, and the peculiarities of 
 that tragedy. They admitted that the hero was a creature 
 of sentiment rather than of action, that events alone impel 
 him forward, and therefore that the play possessed somewhat 
 the characteristics of a novel. But inasmuch as the plan is 
 sketched by the hand of Fate, commencing with a fearful 
 deed, and the hero is ever urged on to the accomplishment of 
 a deed of terror, the play becomes in the highest degree 
 tragic, and can have no other than a tragic termination. 
 
 They resolved now to commence their reading rehear- 
 sals, an employment to which Wilhelm had looked 
 forward with the greatest delight. He bad long since 
 
286 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 collated the different parts of the play, so that his task 
 was rendered comparatively easy. All the actors were 
 familiar with the piece, and it was therefore only necessary 
 to convince them of the importance of these reading 
 rehearsals before they took them in hand. As it is expected 
 that every musician should, to some extent, be competent to 
 play at sight, so every actor and indeed every educated man, 
 should possess the art of reading from the book, and of seizing 
 the spirit of a play, a poem, or a narrative, and he should be 
 able to read them aloud with ease and elegance. It will 
 answer no end to learn a piece by heart, if the actor cannot 
 penetrate into the sense and meaning of his author the 
 mere letter will avail nothing. 
 
 Serlo promised to excuse the attendance of the performers 
 at all the acting rehearsals, even at the concluding one, if 
 they would only endeavour to do justice to these reading 
 exercises, " for usually," he said, ft nothing can be more 
 ludicrous than to hear actors speak of study, it is as if free- 
 masons were to talk about building." 
 
 The rehearsals succeeded admirably, and it may be said 
 truly, that the subsequent success and favourable reception 
 of the company were founded upon these few well employed 
 hours. 
 
 " You were right," observed Serlo, when they found them- 
 selves again alone, " to address our fellow labourers in an 
 earnest tone, though I doubt whether they will completely 
 fulfil your wishes." 
 
 " Why so ?" inquired Wilhelm. 
 
 " I have often found," replied Serlo, " that though it may 
 be an easy task to move the imaginations of men, and though 
 they may listen eagerly to works of fiction, yet we seldom 
 find that they are gifted with any great productive powers 
 of fancy. This is more especially the case with actors. Each 
 of them is quite pleased to accept a beautiful and brilliant 
 part, but he seldom does more than complacently assume his 
 hero's place, without once considering whether he is com- 
 petent to fill it. But to seize with spirit the exact conception 
 of the author, to know how completely you should forget 
 yourself in order to do justice to a character, to feel deeply 
 that you are another individual, to carry conviction home to 
 the bosom of the spectator, and by the inward force of imagi- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 287 
 
 nation to convert the stage into a temple, and the scenes 
 into reality, this is a talent which belongs to few. That 
 inward strength of soul, by means of which deception is pro- 
 duced, that lying truth by which alone the height of illusion 
 is attained, these are qualities of which few persons can ever 
 form even a distant conception. 
 
 " But let us not insist too strongly upon the necessity of 
 spirit and of feeling. Our safest course will be, first, patiently 
 to instruct our actors in the sense and meaning of their 
 parts, and so teach their understanding. Such of them 
 as possess the adequate talent, will afterwards readily acquire 
 a forcible and pathetic expression, and the others will be 
 saved from the danger of acting or declaiming altogether 
 falsely. But we should remember that actors cannot commit 
 a greater error than to think they can understand the spirit 
 of their parts, so long as they are not complete masters of 
 the sense and letter of their author." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IT was yet early when "Wilhelm arrived for the first rehear- 
 sal. He found himself alone in the theatre. The appear- 
 ance of the place surprised him, and brought back the 
 strangest recollections to his mind. The representation of a 
 wood and of a village which the scenery exhibited, exactly 
 resembled what he had seen in the theatre of his native 
 town. It was at a rehearsal which took place on that 
 morning when Mariana first confessed her love, and promised 
 him a happy interview. The peasants' cottages were so 
 like each other both on the stage, and in nature ; and the 
 rising sun was shining though a half-open shutter, and its 
 rays fell upon the corner of a bench, which was rudely joined 
 to a cottage door, but unfortunately, they did not now shine 
 upon Mariana's waist and bosom. He sat down and thought 
 over this strange coincidence, half expecting that she might 
 perhaps appear upon this very spot. The real fact however 
 was, that an afterpiece to which this scenery belonged, was 
 at that time frequently performed upon the German stage. 
 
288 WILUELM MEISTER'S 
 
 Wilhelm was roused from his reflections by the arrival 
 of the other actors. They were accompanied by two friends 
 who were patrons of the drama, and were accustomed to go 
 upon the stage. They saluted Wilhelm with much cordiality. 
 One of them was a warm admirer of Madame Melina, the 
 other was entirely devoted to theatrical art, and both were 
 general favourites with the company. It was not easy to 
 say whether their acquaintance with the stage, or their at- 
 tachment to it was the greater. But they loved it too well 
 to know it thoroughly, and they knew it sufficiently well to 
 choose the good and to reject the bad. Mediocrity was to 
 them intolerable and the cordial enjoyment with which they 
 relished the anticipation and the recollection of excellence 
 was inexpressible. The mechanical part of the profession 
 afforded them pleasure, the intellectual gave them delight, 
 and their love for the stage, was so strong that even an inter- 
 rupted rehearsal was to them a species of illusion. Defects 
 in their eyes disappeared in the distance, success touched them 
 like familiar objects. In fine they were amateurs of whom every 
 artist would be proud. Their most favourite walk was from 
 the stage to the parterre, and from the parterre to the stage, 
 their happiest place was behind the scenes, their most active 
 occupation had relation to the dress, the acting, the recita- 
 tion, or performance of the company, whom they always 
 endeavoured to support ; their most earnest conversation 
 was about the effect which the actors produced, and they 
 never ceased their efforts to render the performers attentive, 
 accurate and active, to do them a favour or a service, or to 
 contribute to their enjoyment without encouraging extrava- 
 gance. They had both received the exclusive right of 
 attending the theatre during rehearsals and performances. 
 With respect to the character of Hamlet, they did not in all 
 respects agree with Wilhelm, and though he had yielded to 
 them in one or two particulars, he had for the most part 
 firmly maintained his own opinion, and upon the whole their 
 intercourse contributed considerably to the improvement of 
 his taste. He had frequently testified his high opinion of 
 them, and they foresaw nothing less from their united exer- 
 tions, than the entire reformation of the German stage. 
 
 Their presence was found very useful at rehearsals. 
 They laboured to convince the performers that their action 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 289 
 
 and attitudes should at such times be in entire conformity 
 with the passages which they recited, in order that by habit 
 the whole might be united mechanically together. No 
 ordinary movement of the hands should be allowed during 
 the rehearsal of a tragedy they trembled for a tragedian 
 who took snuff upon such occasions, fearing lest upon 
 the recurrence of the passage in the actual performance 
 the actor might possibly miss his pinch. They also objected 
 to boots being worn at a rehearsal, when the character 
 required that the part should be performed in shoes. But 
 nothing distressed them more than when the actresses in 
 rehearsing buried their hands in the folds of their dresses. 
 
 In addition to all this, the persuasions of these amateurs 
 produced another very good effect all the actors A\VIV 
 instructed in the drilling exercise. For where military 
 characters are so constantly introduced, they felt that 
 nothing could be more painful than to see men in captains' 
 and majors' uniforms, strutting about the stage, without the 
 least regard to discipline. 
 
 Wilhelm and Laertes were the first who submitted to the 
 instructions of a subaltern officer, and they availed themselves 
 of the opportunity, zealously to resume their practice of 
 fencing. 
 
 In this manner did these patrons of the stage exert 
 themselves for the improvement of the actors, who had by 
 chance been brought together. And while strangers were 
 amused at the peculiarity of their taste, they were neverthe- 
 ess labouring for the future amusement of the public. And 
 people little knew how much they had to be thankful for, 
 particularly for the zeal with which they impressed upon the 
 actors, the important duty of never failing to speak in a loud 
 and intelligible tone. Upon this point they encountered a 
 greater degree of hostility and opposition than they could 
 have believed possible. Most of the actors wished to be 
 heard in their natural voices, and few of them would take the 
 trouble to speak so that they could be understood. Some laid 
 the blame upon the building, others maintained that it was 
 wrong to shout when their parts required that they should 
 speak in a quiet, natural, or tender tone. 
 
 Our two amateurs, who possessed an inexhaustible store 
 of patience, exerted themselves to correct this mistake, to 
 
 u 
 
290 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 subdue this determined obstinacy. They spared neither 
 arguments nor flatteries for the purpose. They triumphed at 
 length, and were mainly indebted for their success to the 
 kind offices of Wilhelm. In pursuance of his invitation they 
 took their seats, during the rehearsal, in the farthest corner 
 of the theatre, and he requested that whenever he was not 
 distinctly heard, they should knock upon the bench with 
 a key. Accordingly he spoke out plainly and deliberately, 
 raising his voice gradually, and never over exerting himself, 
 even in the most excited passages. As the rehearsals pro- 
 ceeded, the sound of the key became less frequently heard. 
 The other actors soon consented to undergo the same tuition, 
 and the company at last had reason to hope that the play 
 would be heard without difficulty in every part of the 
 house. 
 
 We may see from this example, how anxious men always 
 are to effect their object in their own way, how necessary 
 it often becomes to convince them of truths, which are even 
 self-evident, and how difficult it frequently is to persuade 
 men who have a definite purpose in view, of the primary 
 conditions under which alone their design can succeed. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THEY continued to make the necessary preparations for 
 the scenery and dresses and for whatever else was necessary. 
 Wilhelin had certain fancies of his own respecting some of 
 the scenes and passages of the play, which Serlo generally 
 indulged, partly in consequence of his agreement, and partly 
 because he thought they were correct, and because he hoped 
 by these concessions to make a friend of Wilhelm, and recon- 
 cile him more easily to his own plans. 
 
 The King and Queen, for example, were to appear at the 
 opening scene, seated upon their thrones, surrounded by 
 their courtiers, whilst Hamlet stood undistinguished amotngs 
 them. " Hamlet," he said, "must remain quiet, his mourn- 
 ing dress will render him sufficiently distinct. He should 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 291 
 
 rather avoid than seek observation ; and not until the 
 audience has terminated, and the King addresses him as a 
 son, should he advance, when the scene may proceed in its 
 course." 
 
 But a great difficulty was presented by the two pictures, 
 to which Hamlet refers in the passionate scene with his 
 mother. "It seems to me," said Wilhelm, "that they 
 ought both to be displayed at full length in the back ground 
 of the chamber, near the principal entrance The elder King 
 should be painted in full armour like the Ghost, and should 
 hang at the side where the latter makes his appearance. I 
 could wish that the figure assumed a commanding attitude, 
 with the right hand extended, the face a little turned away, 
 with a look directed over the shoulder, that it may perfectly 
 resemble the Ghost at the very instant when the latter dis- 
 appears through the door. It would produce a great effect 
 if Hamlet at that moment should fix his eyes upon the 
 Ghost, and the Queen should look upon the picture. The 
 stepfather may appear in royal costume, but not in very 
 rich attire.'* 
 
 Many other topics of this nature were discussed, of which 
 we may, perhaps, find another opportunity to speak. 
 
 " Are you inexorable that Hamlet should die at the con- 
 clusion of the play ?' ' inquired Serlo. 
 
 " How can I keep him alive/' asked "Wilhelm in reply, 
 " when every thing requires that the piece should finish with 
 his death ? But we have already fully discussed this point." 
 
 " But the public wishes him to live." 
 
 " I will gladly gratify the public on any other point, but 
 upon this it is impossible. You know we often wish that 
 some brave and useful man, who is dying of a chronic 
 disease, might live a little longer. The family weeps and 
 supplicates the physician, but the latter cannot save him ; 
 and as he is unable to resist a necessity of nature, we can- 
 not overcome an acknowledged necessity of art. It is a 
 false compliance with the wishes of the multitude to waken 
 the emotions which they wish to indulge, in place of those 
 which they ought to feel." 
 
 " But whoever pays his money can require the goods to be 
 according to his fancy." 
 
 " Unquestionably. But a great public is entitled to our 
 
292 WILHELM MEISTEIi'S 
 
 respect, and should not be treated like children from whom 
 one wishes merely to extract money. By accustoming them 
 to what is good, we may lead them gradually to feel and to 
 appreciate the excellent, and they will pay their money with 
 double satisfaction when their reason and understanding 
 approve the outlay. We may flatter the public as we 
 do a favourite child, for its improvement and instruction, 
 but not to perpetuate an error from which we expect an 
 advantage." 
 
 Thus were many things discussed in relation to the in- 
 quiry how far they might still venture to alter the play, and 
 what portions they might leave wholly untouched. "Wo 
 shall leave this subject for the present, and possibly upon 
 some future occasion we may submit the new re;uli 
 Hamlet to such of our readers as feel any interest in the 
 matter. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE first rehearsal had taken place, and lasted much 
 longer than had been expected. Serlo and Wilhelm 
 still found many things to perplex them, for notwithstand- 
 ing the long time they had devoted to the preparations, 
 many important matters had been postponed to the last 
 moment. 
 
 For instance, the pictures of the two Kings were not yet 
 ready, and the scene between Hamlet and his mother, from 
 which so powerful an effect was anticipated, seemed very 
 incomplete, inasmuch as neither the Ghost nor his painted 
 resemblance were forthcoming. Serlo joked at the disap- 
 pointment, saying, " We shall be rather badly used if the 
 Ghost refuses to appear : the guards in that case will be 
 obliged to fight with the air, and the prompter must supply 
 the Ghost's speeches from the side scenes." l( We ought not 
 to "scare away our mysterious friend by our incredulity," 
 observed Wilhelm, " he will doubtless come at the proper 
 time, and surprise us no less than the spectators." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP 293 
 
 "Well! at all events, I shall be glad," cried Serlo, 
 " when the piece has been acted. It has given us much 
 more trouble than I had expected*' 
 
 " No person in the world will rejoice more than I shall, 
 when it is over," added Philina, " notwithstanding that my 
 part has not given me much trouble. For to hear only one 
 topic for ever spoken of, from which, after all, nothing can 
 be expected but a representation, which will soon be for- 
 gotten, like its predecessors, I have not patience for 
 that. Do not, I beseech you, suggest so many difficul- 
 ties. Guests, when they rise from table, have always 
 something to object against the entertainment, and if you 
 could only hear their observations, you would not wonder 
 that they complained of the severe inflictions they had en- 
 dured." 
 
 " Allow me, Philina !" said Wilhelm, " to employ your 
 illustration for my own purpose. Think how much must 
 be accomplished by nature and art, by traders and men of 
 business, before an entertainment can be given. How many 
 years the stag must rove in the forest, the fish swim in the 
 river or the sea, before they are worthy to grace the festive 
 board ! And then consider how much the housekeeper, the 
 cook, and her assistants have to effect! And mark the 
 indifference with which your friends consume the products 
 of the distant vintage, the rarities which seamen and 
 merchants have provided, regarding them as things of 
 course. And can you expect that these men should abandon 
 their labour, their toil, and their preparations, or that the 
 careful householder should cease from providing and collect- 
 ing, because, forsooth, the enjoyment of such delicacies 
 affords but a transitory pleasure. In effect, however, no 
 enjoyment is transitory, the impression which it leaves 
 behind is lasting, and whatever is accomplished with dili- 
 gence and toil imparts a secret force to the spectator, of 
 which it is impossible to overestimate the effect/' 
 
 " I am indifferent to all this," interrupted Philina, "I 
 need only repeat my remark that men are a perpetual contra- 
 diction to themselves. For with all your conscientious dis- 
 inclination to mutilate Shakespeare, you have omitted the 
 most beautiful passage in the whole play." 
 
 " The most beautiful passage ?" exclaimed Wilhelm. 
 
294 WILHELM MELSTER'S 
 
 " Undoubtedly," said Philina, "and one which afforded 
 the most extreme delight to Hamlet himself." 
 
 " What do you allude to ?" enquired Serlo. 
 
 "If you wore a wig," replied she, " I would pluck it 
 from your head, for you require to have your wits sharpened." 
 
 The rest of the company were lost in thought, and a 
 pause ensued in the conversation. They rose from their 
 seats it was growing late, and they seemed disposed to 
 separate. Whilst they were standing together in a state of 
 indecision, Philina commenced a song which was set to a 
 very sweet and agreeable air. 
 
 Sing 1 no more in strains of sadness 
 
 Of the loneliness of night 1 
 Darksome hours were made for gladness, 
 
 Social joy, and love's delight. 
 
 Gift to man from bounteous heaven 
 
 Comes that precious boon his wife ; 
 So is night to mortals given, 
 
 As their better part of life. 
 
 How can noon-day hours elate us, 
 
 Checking joy's impetuous tide? 
 Daylight hours may recreate us, 
 
 But are good for nought beside. 
 
 But at midnight softly glowing, 
 
 When the stars shine pale above, 
 And from lip to lip are flowing 
 
 Joy and all the charms of love 
 
 When the youth so wild and daring 
 
 Yields to Beauty's magic power, 
 Captive to her charms ensnaring, 
 
 Lingering in her roseate bower 
 
 When the nightingale is wringing 
 
 Lover's bosoms with her strain, 
 To the sad and weary singing 
 
 Piteous notes so full of pain 
 
 Then with hearts so joyous beating, 
 
 Hearken to the distant bell, 
 Midnight's solemn hours repeating, 
 
 Which of peace and transport tell. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 295 
 
 Therefore when of daylight weary, 
 
 Tender youths, forget not this! 
 That though day be long- and dreary, 
 
 Midnight hours are full of bliss. 
 
 She made a slight curtsey upon coming to the end, 
 thereupon Serlo greeted her with loud applause. She then 
 ran to the door, and rushed from the room with a burst of 
 laughter. They heard her singing and laughing as she 
 tripped lightly down stairs. 
 
 Serlo retired to an adjoining apartment, and Aurelia 
 remained alone with Wilhelm. He wished her good night, 
 but she looked at him attentively for some minutes, and 
 then said, 
 
 " How I loathe that girl ! I loathe her from my very heart ! 
 even to the very least of her qualities. Her dark eyelashes 
 winch my brother finds so charming, I cannot endure, and 
 the scar upon her forehead is so repulsive, so vulgar, that I 
 shudder whenever I see her. She told us a few days 
 ago, as a joke, that when she was a child, her father 
 flung a plate at her hsad, of which she now bears the 
 mark. It is well that she can be so easily recognized by 
 her eyes and forehead, that those about her may be- 
 ware !" 
 
 Wilhelm returned no answer, and Aurelia continued in a 
 tone of still greater anger. 
 
 " I find it impossible to address her in a polite and friendly 
 manner, so intensely do I hate her, notwithstanding all her 
 artifices. I wish we could get rid of her. And you, my 
 friend, always treat her with a certain degree of kindness, 
 which grieves me to the very soul, you show her an attention 
 which looks like respect, and of which she is by no means 
 worthy!" 
 
 " Whatever she may be," replied "Wilhelm, " I owe her a 
 debt of gratitude, and though her conduct is blameable, I 
 must be just to her natural character." 
 
 " Her character !" exclaimed Aurelia, " and do you think 
 that such a creature can have a character ? O ! you 
 men, how well I understand you, you are worthy of such 
 women." 
 
 " And can you entertain a suspicion of me, my kind 
 
296 -WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 friend ?" enquired Wilhelm. " I can account for every 
 minute which I have ever spent in her company. " 
 
 " Well, never mind," added Aurelia, " it is growing late, 
 and we must not quarrel. But they are all alike. Gooc 
 night, my friend! Good night, my brilliant Bird of Paradise.' 
 
 Wilhelm asked how he had become entitled to that honour- 
 able designation. 
 
 " Some other time," cried she, " some other time. They 
 say it has no feet, but is always on the wing, and lives on 
 ether. But that is a fable," she continued, "a mere poetic 
 fiction, Good night, may your dreams be pleasant, if you 
 are happy." 
 
 She proceeded to her apartment and left him alone. He 
 immediately retired to his. 
 
 He walked discontentedly up and down the chamber. 
 The jocular but decided tone of Aurelia had annoyed him. 
 He felt keenly how unjust she had been. It was impossible 
 that he could be unkind or illnatured to Philina. She had 
 not injured him, and he felt so wholly indifferent to her, 
 that he could proudly congratulate his conscience upon the 
 subject. 
 
 He was about to draw his curtains that he might retire to 
 bed, when to his great astonishment, he saw a pair of lady's 
 slippers lying on the ground. They were PhiHna's, he re- 
 cognized them instantly. He fancied also that he could 
 observe a certain degree of disorder about the appearance of. 
 the bed curtains it seemed indeed as if they moved. He 
 stood and stared with fixed eyes. 
 
 An emotion, like anger, deprived him of his breath, but 
 recovering himself after a short pause, he exclaimed in a firm 
 voice 
 
 " Rise, Philina I What can this conduct mean ? Where is 
 your prudence, your modesty. To-morrow morning we shall 
 be the conversation of the whole house." 
 
 Nothing stirred. 
 
 " I am not jesting," he continued, " and I do not like 
 these tricks." 
 
 No sound ! no motion ! 
 
 Angry and determined, he at length went towards the 
 bed and tore the curtains asunder. " Get up," he said, " or 
 I will leave my chamber to you for the night." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 297 
 
 With the greatest astonishment he found the bed empty, 
 and the pillow and counterpane quite undisturbed. He 
 looked about, searched everywhere, hunted in every corner, 
 but could find no trace of the rogue. Behind the bed, be- 
 hind the stove, in the presses, there was nothing to be seen, 
 though he searched with the greatest diligence. A malicious 
 spectator might have supposed that he was seeking with a 
 wish to find. 
 
 Sleep had now quite forsaken him. He placed the slippers 
 upon the table, walked hastily up and down the room ; 
 he then stood still and a wicked spirit who observed him, 
 maintains that Wilhelm spent the greater part of the night 
 playing with those pretty slippers, that he regarded them 
 with deep interest, took them in his hands, toyed with them, 
 until towards morning he threw himself upon the bed in his 
 clothes, and fell asleep amid the strangest fancies. 
 
 In fact he was still asleep, when Serlo entered his apart- 
 ment, exclaiming, " What ! still in bed, impossible ! I have 
 been looking for you at the theatre, where so much still re- 
 mains to be done." 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 THE morning and the afternoon passed rapidly away 
 The theatre was already crowded, and Wilhelm hastened to 
 dress for the performance. But he did not now feel the joy 
 which he had experienced when for the first time he had as- 
 sumed the character he dressed for no other purpose than 
 that he might be ready in time. Upon joining the actresses 
 in the green room, they exclaimed unanimously that no part 
 of his attire became him that his beautiful feather was 
 awry the buckle of his hat did not fit : and they accordingly 
 commenced to rip, to sew and to remodel his dress. The 
 music began Philina had some objection to make against his 
 collar, Aurelia found fault with his mantle. " Leave me, my 
 kind friends," he at length exclaimed, " this appearance of 
 negligence will make me more resemble Hamlet." But the 
 
 dies would not consent to leave him ; they continued their 
 
298 TVILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 attentions. The music had now ceased, and the piece com- 
 menced. He looked at himself in the glass, pressed his hat 
 upon his brow and retouched his cheek with rouge. 
 
 At this moment a person rushed in with a cry of " the 
 Ghost, the Ghost!" 
 
 Wilhelm had not found time all day to think of the im- 
 portant question whether the ghost would appear or not. But 
 his fears were now removed, and he waited for the appearance 
 of some strange assistant. The manager came in frequently, 
 asking various questions, but Wilhelm had no time to enquire 
 about the Ghost ; and he proceeded to appear before the 
 throne where the King and Queen shone in full splendour, 
 surrounded by their brilliant court ; he just caught the last 
 words of Horatio's address, who was speaking in a confused 
 manner of the Ghost's appearance, and seemed to have al- 
 most forgotten his part. 
 
 The curtain rose. He saw a crowded house before him. 
 After Horatio had delivered his address and had been dis- 
 missed by the king, he hastened to meet Hamlet, and as if for 
 the purpose of introducing him to the Prince, he exclaimed, 
 " the Devil stands there clad in armour, and has fearfully 
 alarmed us all." 
 
 Two men attired in white mantles and hoods, were in the 
 mean time observed standing in the side scenes. In the 
 embarrassment, hurry and distraction of the moment, 
 Wilhelm had failed in his first soliloquy, but loud applause 
 had nevertheless accompanied his exit, yet it was with a cer- 
 tain uncomfortable feeling of dissatisfaction, that he com- 
 menced the scene in which he describes the nipping air of 
 the cold wintry night. But he took courage and gave the 
 appropriate passage respecting the feasting and drinking 
 of the Danes with proper composure, forgetting, like the 
 rest of the spectators, the appearance of the Ghost, till he 
 shrunk back in alarm when Horatio exclaimed, " Look, my 
 lord, it comes!" He turned round suddenly, and the tall, 
 noble figure, which advanced with slow and inaudible step, 
 the noiseless movement notwithstanding the heavy armour, 
 all impressed him so powerfully, that he stood petrified and 
 could only say in a half audible voice, " Angels and 
 ministers of grace defend me !" He stared at the apparition, 
 gasped for breath, and pronounced his address to the Ghost 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 299 
 
 in a style so confused, so interrupted and so constrained, 
 that the greatest art could not have succeeded half so well. 
 
 His own translation of the passage now rendered him good 
 service. He had kept close to the original, as the very order 
 of the words seemed to him to express a mind surprised, 
 alarmed, and seized with horror. 
 
 " Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damned, 
 Bring with thee airs from heaven, or Waste from hell, 
 Be thy intents wicked or charitable, 
 Thou com'st in such a questionable shape 
 That I will speak to thee I'll call thee Hamlet, 
 King father royal Dane 0, answer me !" 
 
 The audience was deeply affected. The Ghost beckoned, 
 and the Prince followed him amid the loudest applause. 
 
 The scene changed, and when they had both reached a 
 distant spot, the Ghost suddenly paused and turned round, 
 when Hamlet was brought into close proximity to him. 
 Wilhelm peered with anxious curiosity between the bars of the 
 lowered helmet, but could only discern two deeply seated eyes 
 and a well formed nose. Timidly he surveyed the Spirit, but 
 at the first sounds which came from the helmet, when a deep 
 toned and sonorous voice uttered the words, " I am thy 
 father's spirit !" Wilhelm started back several paces in 
 dismay, and the spectators shared his terror. It seemed as 
 if everybody recognized the voice, and Wilhelm thought he 
 could detect a resemblance to that of his father. These ex- 
 traordinary sensations and recollections, the curiosity he felt 
 to discover his mysterious friend, and his unwillingness to 
 offend him, and even the error into which he had fallen of 
 approaching him too nearly, affected Wilhelm with conflicting 
 emotions. He changed his place so often during the long 
 address of the Ghost, his air was so confused and perplexed, 
 he seemed so attentive, yet so absent, that his acting excited 
 universal admiration, whilst the Ghost inspired the spectators 
 with a general horror. The latter spoke with a voice of 
 subdued anger rather than of sorrow, but his anger was 
 spiritual, calm and enduring. It was the disappointment 
 of a noble soul, separated from all earthly cares and yet 
 succumbing to eternal woe. At length he disappeared 
 in a remarkable manner. A light grey transparent gauze 
 
300 TVILHELM MINSTER'S 
 
 arose like vapour from the chasm, seemed to envelop him 
 and sank down with him to the shades below. 
 
 Hamlet's friends now entered, and took their oath upon 
 the sword. And the spirit was then so busy under ground, 
 that wherever they stood, the cry of " Swear!" always seemed 
 to come from beneath their very feet, whilst they hastened 
 from place to place, as if the ground under them was on 
 fire. A little flame, which, upon these occasions, shot up 
 from below, seemed to increase the effect, and produced a 
 deep impression upon the spectators. 
 
 The play now proceeded uninterruptedly, without any 
 tendency to failure. Its success was complete. The audience 
 testified their satisfaction ; and the pleasure and the courage 
 of the actors increased with every scene. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 THE curtain fell ; and tumults of applause resounded from 
 all parts of the house. The four royal corpses sprang up, 
 and joyfully embraced each other. Polonius and Ophelia 
 came out of their graves, and listened with the greatest 
 satisfaction, as Horatio, who announced the repetition of 
 the play, was received with the loudest marks of approbation. 
 The audience would not permit any other play to be spoken 
 of, but loudly required the present piece to be repeated. 
 
 " We have succeeded at last," cried Serlo, " and so we must 
 not utter another sensible word this evening ! Everything 
 depends upon the first impression. No one can blame an 
 actor for being provident and self-willed upon his first 
 debut." 
 
 The box-keeper now made his appearance, and handed 
 Serlo a large sum of money. " We have made a capital 
 beginning," he exclaimed, " and the favourable opinion of 
 the public will now assist us. But where is our promised 
 supper ? "We must enjoy it this evening." 
 
 They had arranged that the whole company should as- 
 semble in their acting dresses, and have a feast. Wilhelm 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 301 
 
 had made the arrangements, and Madame Melina had laid 
 out the entertainment. 
 
 An apartment, which, upon other occasions was used as 
 a painting room, had been properly prepared, and adorned 
 with all sorts of decorations, and looked partly like a garden, 
 and partly like a colonnade. The company upon entering 
 were dazzled with the brilliancy of the lights, which shed 
 a radiance over a highly ornamented and well-furnished 
 table, from which a vapour of the most fragrant odours 
 ascended. The preparations were universally praised, and 
 the guests took their places with an assumed air of dignity. 
 It seemed as if some royal family had assembled together in 
 the kingdom of the shades. "Wilheliii was seated between 
 Aurelia and Madame Melina, Serlo between Philiua and 
 Elmira. No one was dissatisfied, either with himself or 
 with his place. 
 
 Our two theatrical patrons, who were also present, added 
 to the happiness of the company. During the representa- 
 tion, they had several times appeared upon the stage, and 
 could not sufficiently express their own delight or the satis- 
 faction which animated the public. They condescended now 
 to enter into details, and the exertions of the whole company 
 were loudly extolled. 
 
 The services of all the actors, and the beauty of every 
 ;!ge were in turn commended in the most hearty manner. 
 Even the prompter, who had modestly taken his place at the 
 end of the table, was warmly praised for the passage of " the 
 rugged Pyrrhus." The fencing-scene between Hamlet and 
 Laertes was highly admired. Ophelia's sorrow had been 
 inexpressibly beautiful and exalted. Of Polonius, one could 
 scarcely say too much, and in fine every individual present 
 received an appropriate tribute. 
 
 Even the absent Ghost received his share of applause. He 
 had pronounced his speeches with a most impressive voice, 
 and with. a lofty conception of his character; but it excited 
 general surprise that he had seemed so well informed 
 about the aftairs of the company. He resembled the por- 
 trait as closely as if he had sat to the artist for his picture, 
 and the two amateurs, highly approved the effect which had 
 been produced by the spirit when he entered, near the 
 picture, and crossed over the stage before his own 
 
302 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 image. Truth and error had been strangely mingled, and 
 every one felt convinced that the Queen had not observed 
 the mysterious form. Madame Melina also received her 
 share of applause for having fixed her eyes wildly upon 
 the picture, at the time when Hamlet stood pointing to the 
 Ghost. 
 
 They now enquired by what means the spirit had obtained 
 admission to the theatre, and they learned from the manager, 
 that a side door, which was generally blocked up by deco- 
 rations, had been left open that evening, as the Gothic hall 
 had been required ; and they were informed that two tall 
 figures, wrapped in white mantles and hoods, who could 
 scarcely be distinguished from each other, had gained ad- 
 mittance by that entrance, and had probably disappeared in 
 the same manner, at the end of the third act. 
 
 Serlo praised the Ghost particularly for not having whined 
 like a tailor ; and for having, at the conclusion, introduced 
 a passage which was worthy of a hero, in order to encourage 
 his son. Wilhelm still retained it in his memory, and 
 promised to add it to his manuscript. 
 
 In the excitement of the feast, it had escaped observation, 
 that the children and the Harper were not present. But 
 they soon made their appearance, dressed in romantic attire. 
 Felix was playing upon the triangle, and Mignon carried a 
 tamborine. The old Harper had his harp suspended from his 
 neck, upon which he played as he went along. They, made 
 a little procession round the table, and sang a multitude of 
 songs. They were richly feasted, and the guests conceived 
 that they rendered the children a great favour, by giving 
 them as much sweet wine as they could drink. Indeed, the 
 company themselves had not spared the bottles, which the 
 two amateurs had contributed as a present upon the occasion. 
 The children danced and sang without interruption, but 
 Mignon was more lively than she had ever been before. She 
 played upon the tamborine with great skill and grace, at 
 one time with her finger pressed against the parchment, 
 she hummed quickly across it to and fro, then she struck it 
 with her knuckles or with the back of her hand, and then 
 changing the time, she struck it upon her head or against 
 her knee, or shaking the little bells, she allowed them to 
 ring by themselves, and in this manner from the most simple 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 303 
 
 of instruments, she elicited a (.reat variety of sounds. 
 After the children had amused themselves for a considerable 
 time, they sat down in an arm-chair, which was standing 
 empty at the table exactly opposite to Wilhelm. 
 
 " Keep away from the chair !" cried Serlo, " it is intended 
 for the Ghost, and should he appear, he may treat you ill." 
 
 " I do not fear him," answered Mignon, " if he comes, we 
 can rise. He is my uncle, and will not injure me." This 
 speech was an enigma to all those who did not know that 
 her reputed father had been called "The great devil." 
 
 The actors looked at each other; and their suspicions 
 were strengthened that Serlo knew something about the 
 appearance of the Grhost. They chatted and drank together, 
 and the girls from time to time looked with fearful glances 
 towards the door. 
 
 The children, who were seated in the large arm-chair, 
 their heads scarcely reaching higher than the edge of the 
 table, resembled the puppets in Punchinello, ai.d they soon 
 commenced to give an imitation of that entertainment. 
 Mignon imitated the nasal tone of the figures admirably, 
 and they knocked their heads together against the edge of 
 the table, in a way that only wooden images could endure. 
 Mignon was in the highest state of excitement, and the 
 company, who had laughed heartily at the beginning of the 
 performance, were at length obliged to interfere. But en- 
 treaties were vain, for she sprang up and raved, running 
 round the table with the tamborine in her hand. Her hair 
 was streaming over her shoulders, and with her head held 
 back, and her limbs flung wildly in the air she resembled 
 a figure of the ancient Moenades, whose strange and almost 
 impossible attitudes upon antique monuments fill us with 
 astonishment. 
 
 Excited by the noise and talents of the children, the other 
 guests contributed also to the general amusement. The 
 young ladies sang several duets, Laertes imitated the 
 singing of the nightingale, and the pedanb played a concert 
 pianissimo upon the Jew's harp. The rest of the company 
 amused themselves with various sorts of games, and their 
 hands coming continually into close contact they indulged 
 in many an affectionate pressure, which gave evidence of well- 
 intentioned kindness. Madame Melina did not fail to evince 
 
304 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 her warm partiality for Wilhelm. It was now growing late, 
 and Aurelia, the only person who seemed to preserve her 
 self-composure, rising from her seat, reminded the others 
 that it was time to retire. 
 
 Serlo closed the entertainment with fireworks, giving 
 with his mouth an inconceivably clever imitation of the 
 explosion of rockets, crackers, and Catherine-wheels. It 
 was only necessary to close your eyes to render the illu- 
 sion complete. At length they all rose to depart, and the 
 gentlemen offered their arms to the ladies, to conduct them 
 to their homes. Wilhelm followed the others, accompanied 
 by Aurelia. The manager of the theatre met them on the 
 stairs, and said, " Here is the veil in which the ghost dis- 
 appeared. He left it behind him at the place where he 
 vanished; and we have only this moment found it." "An 
 interesting relic !" exclaimed Wilhelm, as he took possession 
 of it. 
 
 He was seized at the same instant by the left arm, and he 
 felt considerable pain. Mignon had rushed from her hiding 
 place, where she had been concealed, and bit his arm. She 
 passed him quickly on the stairs, and disappeared. 
 
 Upon coming into the open air the company at once per- 
 ceived that they had enjoyed themselves too freely. They 
 separated without taking leave of eacli other. 
 
 Wilhelm undressed himself immediately upon gaining 
 his apartment, and having extinguished his candle hastened 
 into bed. He was about to fall asleep, when his attention 
 was attracted by a noise which seemed to issue from behind 
 the stove. Just then the figure of a king in full armour 
 appeared to his imagination, he rose up in his bed to address 
 the Ghost, when he felt himself suddenly locked in the 
 embrace of two tender arms, his mouth was closed with a 
 shower of the most passionate kisses, and he felt a bosom 
 pressed against his own, from which he had not resolution 
 to disengage himself. 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 305 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ON" the following morning, Wilhelm started up with a 
 feeling of discontent and found his bed unoccupied. His 
 mind was still confused with the tumult of the preceding 
 night, from which he had not fully recovered, and the recol- 
 lection of his mysterious nocturnal visitant rendered him 
 uneasy. His first suspicion fell upon Philina, and yet she 
 was not the person whom he had held in his arms. He 
 sprang to his feet, and whilst dressing, he observed that his 
 door, which he usually locked was unfastened, though he 
 could not remember whether he had secured it on the 
 previous night. 
 
 He was above all things astonished at the sight of the 
 ghost's veil, which was found on his bed. But as he had 
 brought it with him, he had probably thrown it there him- 
 si'lt'. It was of grey gauze, and upon the border a sentence 
 was worked in black letters. He unfolded it and read the 
 words, " For the first and last time fly, youth, fly !" He 
 was surprised and knew not what to say. 
 
 Mignon entered just at this moment with his breakfast. 
 "Wilhelm was astonished, nay alarmed at the appearance of 
 the child. She appeared to have grown taller during the 
 night, she approached him with a proud, noble look, and 
 surveyed him so anxiously that he could not meet her eye. 
 She did not touch him, though she had always been accus- 
 tomed in the morning, to press his hand, or to kiss his 
 cheek, his lips, his arm, or his shoulder, and after she had 
 arranged his things, she withdrew in silence. 
 
 The time 'which had been appointed for a rehearsal having 
 now arrived, our friends all assembled, though they had not 
 recovered from the effects of the previous day's entertain- 
 ment. "Wilhelm exerted himself to his utmost, that he 
 might not be the first to violate those principles of regularity 
 which he had so lately broached. The facility which he had 
 acquired from long practice helped him through, for in every 
 art, habit and practice will always supply the deficiencies 
 which genius and temper so often leave unfilled. 
 
 Our friends had good reason to observe, in the present 
 
306 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 instance, the truth of the observation, that a pursuit which 
 is intended to be followed for a continuance, such as a busi- 
 ness or a profession, ought never to be commenced with a 
 festivity. Festivals are proper when an enterprise has been 
 successful, but ceremonies at the commencement only 
 waste the zeal and strength which should be husbanded to 
 encourage us during our struggle, and to support us in a 
 laborious career. But of all festivals, marriage feasts seem 
 most inappropriate : calmness, humility, and quiet hope 
 would seem especially becoming at such a season. 
 
 Thus did the day pass over, and to Wilhelin it had proved 
 particularly insipid and interesting. "When evening arrived, 
 instead of indulging in their usual conversation, the com- 
 pany began to yawn. The interest which they had hitherto 
 taken in the play of Hamlet, seemed to be exhausted, and 
 they were all disappointed that the play was to be repeated 
 on the following evening. Wilhelm produced the ghost's 
 veil in evidence that the unknown performer of that charac- 
 ter had no intention of appearing again. Serlo was likewise 
 of this opinion ; he seemed to have been admitted into the 
 confidence of the ghost, but then, on the other hand, the 
 words, " fly, youth, fly !" were upon this supposition not 
 easily explained. How could Serlo have conspired with any 
 one to deprive the company of their most accomplished 
 actor. 
 
 It now became essential to provide a substitute for the 
 character of the ghost, and they resolved to make the 
 Pedant play the King. Both parts had been already 
 thoroughly studied, and it was not surprising after so many 
 rehearsals, and so ample a discussion of the play that all the 
 actors had become perfectly familiar with it, so that each 
 might readily have exchanged his part with that of his neigh- 
 bour. They proceeded nevertheless with the rehearsal, 
 but they went through it hastily, and when they were on 
 the point of separating, Philina approached Wilhelm and 
 whispered to him softly as she passed, " I must have my 
 slippers back again, and you must not bolt the door." The 
 words perplexed Wilhelm beyond measure, as he reflected 
 upon them in his chamber. The suspicion that the ghost of 
 the preceding night had been Philina, was thereby consider- 
 ably strengthened ; and we must ourselves coincide in this 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 307 
 
 idea, particularly as we are prevented from explaining the 
 reasons which awakened in our friend's mind, another 
 suspicion of a similar nature. He continued to pace his 
 room in a restless state of mind, and he had not yet bolted 
 his door, when Mignon rushed suddenly into the apartment 
 exclaiming wildly, " Save the house ! it is on fire." Wilhelm 
 ran to the door and he became instantly enveloped in a dense 
 smoke which issued from the upper story. A cry of fire 
 had been raised in the street, and the harper appeared upon 
 the stairs breathless from the smoke, carrying his instrument 
 in his hand. Aurelia ran from her chamber, having thrown 
 the little Felix into Wilhelm's arms. 
 
 " Only save the child !" she exclaimed, " and we will see 
 after every thing else." 
 
 AVilbelrn who did not consider that there was any great 
 danger, wished to find out where the fire had originated, 
 that he might extinguish it at once. He accordingly com- 
 mitted the child to the care of the Harper, desiring him to 
 descend the stone stairs which led through a little vault 
 into the garden, and to wait with the children in the open 
 air. Mignon carried a light to shew the way, and Wilhelm 
 begged Aurelia to deposit her things in the same place. He 
 himself endeavoured to force his way through the smoke, but 
 in vain did he boldly encounter every danger. The flames 
 seemed to proceed from a neighbouring house, they had already 
 communicated to the woodwork .of the floor, and the small 
 flight of stairs, and some other persons who had hastened 
 to his assistance, were suffering like himself from the effects 
 of the vapour and the flames. Nevertheless he continued to 
 encourage them, calling loudly for water, imploring the 
 bystanders to redouble their exertions and promising to 
 stand by them to the last. At this moment Mignon came 
 running towards him, exclaiming, " O, master ! save little 
 Felix, the old Harper is mad, he is killing him." Without 
 taking a moment to reflect, Wilhelm rushed down the stairs 
 and Mignon followed close behind him. 
 
 He was petrified with horror upon reaching the foot of 
 the stairs which communicated with the garden. Some 
 heaps of straw and firewood which had been collected on 
 the spot, were burning with a fierce flame. Felix lay 
 crying upon the ground ; the Harper with his head sunk 
 
308 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 upon his bosom, stood leaning against the wall. " "What are 
 you doing, wretched man !" cried Wilhelm. The Harper 
 was silent, Mignon raised Felix and carried him with diffi- 
 culty through the garden, whilst "Wilhelm exerted himself 
 to disperse the faggots and to extinguish the flames. At 
 length he was compelled with burnt hair and singed eye- 
 lashes to make his escape into the garden, dragging the old 
 man with him through the flames who, with his beard all 
 consumed, reluctantly accompanied him. 
 
 "Wilhelm without loss of time sought for the children. 
 He found them at the entrance of a summer house at some 
 distance, and Mignon was exerting herself to quiet her little 
 companion. Wilhelm took the boy in his lap, asked him 
 some questions, examined him to ascertain if he had sustained 
 any injury, but could gain no satisfactory information from 
 either of the children. 
 
 The fire had now communicated to several houses, and 
 illuminated the whole neighbourhood. Wilhelm examined 
 the child in the bright glare of the flames, but he could not 
 observe no blood, no wound, no iniury of any kind. He 
 pressed little Felix with his hand, but the latter gave no 
 sign of pain. By degrees he became tranquil, seemed 
 to wonder at the fire, and to evince delight at the sight of 
 the blazing rafters and frames which were burning with the 
 i L^ularity of an illumination. 
 
 Wilhelm did not bestow a thought upon his own losses. 
 He only felt how dear to him were the two creatures whom 
 he had succeeded in saving from so sad a fate. He kissed 
 the little Felix with fresh rapture, and was about to embrace 
 Mignon also, but she gently disengaged herself from him, 
 and seizing him by the hand, held it firmly in hers. 
 
 " Master," she said before that evening, she had 
 scarcely even addressed him by such a title, at first she 
 used to call him, Sir, and subsequently Father, " Master ! 
 we have escaped a fearful danger ; little Felix was at the 
 point of death." 
 
 Wilhelm learned, upon making inquiry, that the Harper 
 having descended into the vault, had snatched the light 
 from Mignon' s hand, and had set fire to the straw. He had 
 then placed the little Felix down, and having made some 
 strange gestures, had laid his hands on the head of the child, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 309 
 
 and drew forth a knife as if he had intended to sacrifice him. 
 Mignon rushed forward and snatched the knife from him, 
 and alarmed at her loud screams, some person had rushed from 
 the house to her assistance, but had retired again in the 
 confusion, leaving the Harper and the child alone: 
 
 Two or three houses were now in flames. In consequence 
 of the conflagration in the vault, no one had taken refuge in 
 the garden. Wilhelm was uneasy about his friends, and 
 also, though in a minor degree, about his own property, and 
 aa he did not dare to leave the children, he was obliged to look 
 on in silence and to watch the increase of the misfortnne. 
 
 He spent some hours in this painful situation. Felix had 
 fallen asleep in his lap. Mignon was lying at his side, and 
 still held his hand clasped in hers. The exertions of the 
 bystanders finally extinguished the flames. The burning 
 houses were in ruins, the morning dawned, the children felt 
 the cold intensely, and even Wilhelm who was clad in light 
 attire, suffered from the extreme chilliness of the falling dew. 
 He led the children to the ruins and they warmed themselves 
 amongst the ashes and the embers of the fallen buildings. 
 
 The early morning brought together by degrees the various 
 friends and acquaintances of the party. They had all escaped, 
 and no one had sustained the slightest loss. 
 
 Wilhelm' s trunk had been once more saved. "When it 
 approached ten o'clock, Serlo summoned them to a rehearsal 
 of Hamlet, at least of those scenes in which new players 
 were to act. But some objections to the intended 
 entertainment were offered by the police authorities. The 
 Clergy, moreover, expressed a wish that after such a judg- 
 ment of Providence, the theatre should remain closed, but 
 Serlo maintained, on the contrary, that in order to repair 
 his own losses, and to cheer the depressed spirits of the 
 people, the performance of some interesting play was essen- 
 tial. This opinion prevailed, and the house was full. The 
 actors displayed unusual energy and performed with more 
 than their accustomed success. The spectators were more 
 disposed to relish something out of the ordinary routine, as 
 their feelings had been roused by the terrors of the preced- 
 ing night, and their desire for entertainment had been excited 
 by the tedium of an anxious and unprofitable day. The 
 greater part of the spectators were new, and had been 
 
310 WILHELM MEISTERS 
 
 brought together by the reputation of the piece, and they 
 could not institute any comparison between the present and 
 the past evening. The new actor played the Ghost's part 
 and the Pedant successfully imitated the character of his 
 predecessor, finding hia own woe-begone condition of especial 
 service to him, and notwithstanding his purple cloak and 
 ermine collar, it was impossible to deny that Hamlet was 
 right in styling him " a king of shreds and patches." 
 
 A more singular path had never conducted a monarch to 
 the throne, and although the other actors, and especially 
 Phi Una jested about his promotion, he himself asserted that 
 the Count, who was an excellent judge, had from the very 
 first made this prediction about him. On the other hand 
 Philina recommended him to practise humility, saying that 
 she would powder the sleeve of his coat, to remind him of 
 the luckless night which he had passed in the castle, in order 
 that he might wear his crown with becoming modesty. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 THE company had been obliged to provide themselves 
 hastily with new apartments, and they were in consequence 
 widely separated from each other. Wilhem took a fancy to 
 the garden house, where he had taken refuge on the night of 
 the fire. He according procured the key without much diffi- 
 culty, and established himself in those quarters, and as 
 Aurelia's new abode was small and inconvenient he kept 
 possession of Eelix, and it was impossible to induce Mignon 
 to separate from the little boy. 
 
 The children had been placed in a nice little apartment on 
 the first floor, whilst "Wilhehn resided in the lower room. 
 The children soon fell asleep, but he sought repose in vain. 
 
 Close to the lovely garden, which the rising moon had 
 just illuminated, stood the melancholy ruins, from which the 
 smoke was still ascending. The air was pleasant and the 
 night was extremely beautiful. Upon leaving the theatre, 
 Philina had touched him with her elbow, and whispered 
 something in his ear, which he did not exactly understand. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 3 LI 
 
 He felt puzzled and perplexed, and scarcely knew what he 
 ought to do, or what he should anticipate. Philina had 
 avoided him of late, although she had to-night given him a 
 second signal. Unfortunately the doors were wholly con- 
 sumed, which he had been cautioned not to bolt, and the 
 perplexing pair of slippers had been reduced to ashes. He 
 was at a loss to conjecture by what means she intended to 
 procure admission to the garden, if such was her design, 
 He felt no wish to see her, and yet he would very willingly 
 have heard any explanation which she might desire to offer. 
 
 But he felt most of all perplexed about the fate of the Har- 
 per, who had not been seen since the fire. "Wilhelm was 
 afraid that in removing the rubbish, his body might be found 
 among the ruins, and he had very carefully concealed the 
 suspicion which he entertained, that the old man had been 
 the author of the fire. He had first seen him as he rushed 
 from the conflagration and smoke of the house, and the 
 fearful adventure in the vault, seemed to be the result of 
 that desperate deed. And yet from the examination which 
 the police had instituted, it seemed probable that the fire 
 had not commenced in the house where Wilhelm had resided, 
 but in the third dwelling from that, and had been com- 
 municated from the adjoining roofs. 
 
 Wilhelm was seated alone in a bower in the garden, re- 
 flecting upon the accident which had occurred, when he 
 heard a low footstep in an adjoining walk. He at once 
 recognized the old Harper, by the melancholy strain which 
 met his ear. The song which he could easily comprehend, 
 had for its subject the consolation of a wretched being, con- 
 scious that he was about to fall into insanity. Unfortunately 
 Wilhelm could only remember the concluding stanza. 
 
 When to the mansions of the good 
 The Minstrel's footsteps meekly stray, 
 Some pioup hands shall bring- him food, 
 And he will then pursue his way. 
 Whene'er his pilgrim form appears, 
 Each friendly heart with joy shall glow, 
 And every eye be filled with tears, 
 Though he their cause may never know. 
 
 Having finished his song, he proceeded to the garden 
 door, which communicated with the neighbouring street, 
 
312 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 but finding it locked, he endeavoured to climb over the 
 railings. Wilhelm however held him back, and addressed 
 him in a friendly voice. The old man implored him to 
 unlock the gate, as he was determined not to be kept a 
 prisoner. But "Wilhelm represented to him that though he 
 might succeed in escaping from the garden, he could not 
 possibly do so from the town, and he explained moreover 
 the suspicious light in which his conduct would thus appear. 
 Eut all in vain the old man seemed resolved. But Wil- 
 helm would not yield, and leading him half by force into the 
 garden house, he locked the door upon the Harper and 
 himself. They now entered into a strange conversation 
 together, but that we may not distress our readers with a 
 detail of so many unconnected subjects, and disagreeable 
 emotions, we had rather omit them than relate them at 
 length. 
 
 CHAPTEK XY. 
 
 ON that same morning, the advice of Laertes relieved 
 Wilhelm from the perplexity in which he found himself, as 
 to the course which he ought to take with this unhappy 
 man, who shewed undoubted signs of madness. Laertes 
 when roaming through the town as usual, happened to meet 
 with a stranger in a coffee house, who for some time, had 
 suffered extremely from violent attacks of melancholy. He 
 had been placed under the care of a country clergyman, who 
 made it his especial business to take charge of persons so 
 afflicted. He had proved successful in the case to which we 
 allude, he was now in the town and the friends of his patient 
 were paying him the greatest honour. 
 
 Wilhelm hastened to find out the clergyman ; he related 
 the case and they soon agreed about the terms. It was 
 determined that the Harper, by some means or other, should 
 be committed to his charge. The separation which ensued 
 pained Wilhelm deeply, and nothing but the hope of soon 
 seeing him once more restored to his reason, could afford 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 313 
 
 him any relief, so accustomed had he become to the society 
 of the old man, and to the delight of his inspired and sooth- 
 ing strains. His harp had been burnt in the fire, but they 
 had procured another for him, and had presented it to him 
 upon his departure. 
 
 Mignon's little wardrobe had also been consumed, and 
 when they were about to provide her with new apparel, 
 Aurelia proposed that they should dress her as a girl. 
 
 "No, no !" she cried, and insisted so obstinately, that 
 they where compelled to let her have her own way. 
 
 The company had not much time for reflection, the per- 
 formances proceeded without interruption. 
 
 Wilhelin was diligent in ascertaining the general opinions 
 of the public upon the performance of Hamlet, but criticisms 
 were seldom offered which he found it agreeable to hear, and 
 he was compelled much more frequently to listen to remarks 
 which filled him with vexation and annoyance. For instance 
 after the first performance, a young man related that he had 
 been highly amused, that evening, at the threatre. "Wilhelm 
 listened attentively, and heard the youth describe how he had 
 obstinately kept his hat on during the entire entertainment, 
 to the great annoyance of those who were behind him, and 
 he now looked back upon his heroic conduct with feelings of 
 the highest satisfaction. 
 
 Another person remarked that "Wilhelm had played the 
 character of Laertes with great judgment, but that no one 
 could possibly approve of the manner in which the part of 
 Hamlet had been performed. This mistake, however, was 
 not wholly unnatural, as Wilhelm and Laertes resembled 
 each other in a slight degree. 
 
 A third critic warmly praised his performance, especially 
 in the scene with his mother, only regretting that in one of 
 the most exciting passages a white strap should have 
 appeared beneath Hamlet' b waistcoat, by which the illusion 
 was wholly destroyed. 
 
 Many changes were taking place, in the mean time, 
 amongst the other members of the company. Since the 
 evening subsequent to the fire, Philina had not paid Wilhelm 
 the least attention. She had hired an apartment situated 
 at a distance from his, formed an intimacy with Elmira, 
 and visited Serlo very seldom, a course of conduct, which 
 
314 WILHELM MEISTEK'S 
 
 seemed to be particularly gratifying to Aurelia, Serlo 
 who was still partial to her, went to see her frequently, 
 especially when he hoped to meet Elmira in her company. 
 One evening he took Wilhelm with him. They were both 
 very much astonished, upon entering the house, to see 
 Philina in an inner apartment, locked in the embraces of a 
 young officer, who, they could observe, was dressed in a 
 scarlet uniform and wore white pantaloons, but his face was 
 turned away in such a manner that they could not distin- 
 guish his features. Philina advanced to meet her visitors as 
 they entered the anteroom, at the same time shutting the 
 door of the apartment which she had just left. 
 
 (t You have caught me," she exclaimed, " in the very 
 middle of a strange adventure!" 
 
 " Not so strange after all !" observed Serlo. " But let us 
 see this pretty young enviable friend of yours," he con- 
 tinued, " you have us all in a state of such complete con- 
 trol, that there is no fear of our proving jealous." 
 
 " I must leave you to your own conjectures for the pre- 
 sent,* ' said Philina in a tone of raillery, "I assure you, 
 however, that my visitor is a lady, who wishes to remain in 
 concealment for a few days. You shall hear her whole his- 
 tory at the proper time perhaps you may even be introduced 
 to my interesting friend herself, and then I may require 
 to exercise all my prudence and discretion, for I am not 
 without some apprehensions that the gentlemen may forget 
 me in this new acquaintance." 
 
 Wilhelm stood as if petrified. At the very first glance 
 the scarlet uniform had reminded him of Mariana, the figure 
 and the fair hair which he had seen were hers, though per- 
 haps the officer might have been a little taller. 
 
 " For heaven's sake !" exclaimed Wilhelm, " give us fur- 
 ther information of your friend. Let us see this disguised 
 lady. "We have been entrusted with your secret, we will 
 promise, or will swear not to divulge it only let us see the 
 lady." 
 
 " How excited he is !" said Philina, " but be calhi and have 
 a little patience, you shall learn nothing from me to-day." 
 
 " Only tell us her name !" cried Wilhelm. 
 
 " Then it would be a precious secret, indeed!" answered 
 Philina. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 315 
 
 " Well, her Christian name at least." 
 
 " You may guess it, if you like. You shall have three 
 guesses, no more, otherwise you might lead me through 
 the whole calendar." 
 
 "Well!" said Wilhelm, Cecilia!" 
 
 " No !" 
 
 "Henrietta!" 
 
 " Not at all ! Take care, or your curiosity will remain 
 unsatisfied." 
 
 Wilhelm paused and trembled. He tried to speak, but 
 could not. " Mariana !" he stammered out at length, 
 " Mariana !" 
 
 " Bravo !" cried Philina, " You have guessed it," and she 
 whirled round on her heel according to her usual custom. 
 
 Wilhelm was dumb and Serlo, who did not observe his 
 emotion, entreated Philina to open the door of the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 To the astonishment of both of them, Wilhelm suddenly 
 put a stop to their raillery, by throwing himself at Philina' s 
 feet, begging and imploring her with the most earnest sup- 
 plications to let him see the lady. " She is mine !" he ex- 
 claimed, " she is my Mariana ! She for whom I have been so 
 long pining, she who is dearer to me than all the women 
 in the world ! Go to her, and tell her that I am here I 
 who devoted to her all my earliest feelings of love and the 
 unsullied happiness of my youth. Say he will explain 
 satisfactorily why he left her unkindly he will implore her 
 forgiveness, he will pardon her, forgive her all her offences, 
 and withdraw all his pretensions, if she will only let me see 
 her if I may convince myself that she is alive and happy." 
 
 Philina shook her head, and replied, " My friend, whisper 
 low, do not betray us ! If the lady is really your friend, 
 you must spare her feelings, for she has no idea that you are 
 here. Far different business has brought her hither, and 
 you know right well that there are times, when one would 
 rather encounter a ghost, than a former lover. I will speak 
 to her and prepare her, we can then consider what is best to 
 be done. I will write you a note to-morrow, naming an 
 hour for an interview, or saying whether she will meet you 
 at all. Obey me punctually, for I vow that no person shall 
 see the lady without her own and my permission. I shall 
 
316 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 lock my doors securely, and you will scarcely venture to 
 burst them open." 
 
 Wilhelm entreated, Serb implored but all in vain. They 
 were compelled to yield, and they left the apartment and the 
 house. 
 
 "We may easily conceive that Wilhelm spent a sleepless 
 night, and that the hours passed drearily away whilst he lay 
 in expectation of a note from Philina. Unhappily he was 
 obliged to act that evening, and never had he endured more 
 intense agony. As soon as he had finished his part, he has- 
 tened to Philina's residence, without inquiring whether he 
 had received an invitation. He found the doors fastened, 
 and the servants stated that she had started off at an early 
 hour in the morning, accompanied by a young officer ; that 
 she had said something about returning in a few days, but 
 that they did not believe her, as she had paid all her accounts 
 in the neighbourhood, and had taken her things with her. 
 
 Willielin was distracted at this information. He went at 
 once to Laertes, entreating that he would pursue her and 
 employ every means, and run every risk, to obtain information 
 about her companion. Laertes rebuked Wilhelm for his 
 sudden passion aad for his easy credulity. " I would wager 
 a trifle/' he said, "that it is only Friedrich. I know per- 
 fectly well that he is of good family, and that he is des- 
 perately in love with Philina, and probably he may have 
 succeeded in obtaining a sum of money from his friends, and 
 this will enable them once more to live together for a time." 
 
 Wilhelm half believed these statements, although they 
 were not sufficient to convince his reason. But Laertes 
 sought to persuade him of the great improbability of the 
 tale with which Philina had endeavoured to amuse them all, 
 reminding him how closely the officer resembled Friedrich 
 both in his figure and in the colour of his hair, assuring him 
 that with the twelve hours start which the fugitives had ob- 
 tained, they could not easily be overtaken, and that above all 
 things, Serlo could not possibly dispense with their presence 
 at the theatre. 
 
 These arguments finally persuaded Wilhelm to abandon 
 his intention. Laertes, that same evening, procured an 
 active messenger to whom the task of pursuing Philina was 
 entrusted. He was a steady person, who had frequently 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 317 
 
 acted as a guide and courier to travellers, and he was at that 
 moment without employment. They supplied him with 
 funds and gave him all necessary instructions, desiring him 
 to find out the fugitives, to keep his eye upon them, and 
 instantly to inform Wilhelm where and how he might over- 
 take them. He started on horseback that very hour in pur- 
 suit of Philina and her companion, and by these means 
 Wilhelm partly succeeded in recovering his usual composure 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 ' s absence did not produce any extraordinary 
 sensation either within the walls of the theatre or in the 
 public mind. Her character was wholly devoid of earnest- 
 ness, her fellow-actresses thoroughly disliked her, and the 
 men relished her company far more during a tete-a-tete, than 
 upon the boards. For these several reasons her talents for 
 theatrical display were not sufficiently appreciated. The 
 different members of the company now exerted themselves 
 to the utmost to supply her place, and Madame Melina's zeal 
 and diligence in this respect were very remarkable. She was 
 a follower of Wilhelm' s principles, was thoroughly guided 
 by his theories and example, and her conduct had lately 
 undergone a most favourable change. Her acting had 
 become correct, her tone of conversation was now natural, and 
 in her delineation of lively motion she was much improved. 
 Moreover, she humoured Serlo in all his particular fancies, 
 she exerted herself to please him with her singing, and she 
 succeeded so far as to render herself a most agreeable com- 
 panion. 
 
 The company was soon strengthened by the arrival of 
 some new performers, and whilst Wilhelm and Serlo were 
 busy in their several departments, the former insisting on 
 the general spirit and expression of the whole, the latter, 
 upon the faithful representation of the various parts, a 
 praiseworthy zeal animated the performers, and the public 
 took a lively interest in their success. 
 
318 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 " We are now in the right path," observed Serlo upon one 
 occasion, " let us continue our course and the public will 
 soon join us. It is an easy matter to mislead them by wild 
 and extravagant displays, but they are zealous admirers of 
 whatever is rational and refined. 
 
 " The principal defect in our theatre, and which affects 
 both the actor and the spectator, consists in the variety of 
 its objects, and in the want of a proper support to sustain 
 onr judgment. It does not seem to me to be any advantage 
 that we have enlarged our theatre, till it has become a bound- 
 less arena for the display of nature, and yet neither manager 
 nor actor ought to limit its range until the taste of the nation 
 shall indicate the proper boundaries. Every good society 
 exists under certain restraints, and this must be the case with 
 every good theatre. Particular manners and forms of ex- 
 pression, certain objects and courses of conduct must be 
 unequivocally abandoned. No one becomes poorer by con- 
 tracting his household expenses." 
 
 Our friends agreed or differed more or less upon these 
 subjects. Wilhelm, and the majority of the actors, advo- 
 cated the English system. Serlo, and some others, defended 
 the French theatrical arrangements. 
 
 They had determined, during some of their leisure hours, 
 of which an actor unfortunately has too many, to peruse 
 together the most celebrated plays in the French and English 
 languages, and to mark particularly those passages which 
 seemed to be most excellent and most worthy of imitation. 
 They accordingly commenced with some French productions, 
 but Aurelia invariably disappeared when the reading com- 
 menced. At first it was thought that she was unwell, but 
 Wilhelm upon one occasion questioned her upon the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 " I will not consent to be present at those readings," she 
 observed, " for how could I pay attention and exercise my 
 judgment when my heart is broken ? I hate the French 
 language beyond measure." 
 
 "How can you dislike a language," inquired "Wilhelm, 
 " to which we owe the greater part of our accomplishments, 
 and to which we must become even still more indebted before 
 our nature is rendered perfect ?" 
 
 "I am not prejudiced," continued Aurelia, "but a sad 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 319 
 
 impression, a detested recollection of my faithless friend, has 
 destroyed all my powers of enjoying this beautiful and refined 
 language. I hate it from the bottom of my heart ! During 
 the existence of our affectionate intercourse, he always cor- 
 responded with me in German, in cordial, sincere, and vigor- 
 ous Germ an, but when he wished to abandon me, then he began 
 to write in French, as he had done several times previously 
 for amusement. I felt, I understood what he meant. All that 
 he would have blushed to say in his native tongue, he could 
 now write with a safe conscience. It is a language well 
 adapted for reservations, equivocations, and lies ; it is a per- 
 fidious language ! Thank Heaven, 1 can find no German 
 word to express the meaning of 'perfide' in all its force. 
 Our poor expression * treulos' is an innocent babe in compari- 
 son with it. 'Pcrfide* is 'treulos* with delight, with insolence, 
 and malice. Well may we envy the refinement of a nation 
 which can express so many shades of meaning with a single 
 word. French is, indeed the language of the world, worthy 
 of becoming the universal language, that we may learn how 
 to cheat and to betray each other ! It is true his French 
 letters always read pleasantly enough ! To the fancy they 
 sounded warmly and even passionately, but *when closely 
 examined they were nothing but phrases, unmeaning phrases. 
 lie has spoiled all my taste for the language, for the whole 
 range of French literature, even for the most choice and 
 beautiful sentiments of the noblest souls when uttered in 
 that tongue. I shudder when I hear a French word." 
 
 Thus would she for whole hours continue to express her 
 vexation, and interrupt every other species of conversation. 
 Serlo generally silenced her peevish complaints by some 
 bitter observation, but the amusement of the evening was 
 by this means generally disturbed. 
 
 It seldom happens that objects which are to be accom- 
 plished by the united exertions of men and circumstances 
 combined, long continue perfect. This applies as fully to a 
 theatre, as to a kingdom, and you may generally find in a 
 circle of friends, as well as in an army, that there is a pre- 
 cise moment, when all things may be said to have attained the 
 highest degree of perfection, harmony, and activity. But 
 before long, individuals change, new persons appear upon the 
 scene, some no longer suit existing circumstances, or existing 
 
T20 WILUEL^I MEISTEE'S 
 
 circumstances no longer suit them, a general alteration 
 ensues, and the previous union becomes dissolved. Thus, a 
 short time ago, it might have been truly said that Serlo' s 
 company was as complete as a German company could possi- 
 bly be. The majority of the actors filled their proper 
 places, all were fully occupied, and they all entered zealously 
 into their respective duties. Their personal circumstances 
 were prosperous, their profession held out prospects of 
 success, for they all played with energy and animation. But 
 it soon appeared that some of them were automatons, who 
 could only succeed in parts where feeling was not required. 
 Moreover those personal antipathies soon appeared amongst 
 them, which so frequently ruin every arrangement, and 
 destroy that harmony which reasonable men are so anxious 
 to see preserved. 
 
 Philina's departure was of more importance than was at 
 first apprehended. She had always displayed a great degree 
 of cleverness in amusing Serlo, and in entertainiug the rest 
 of her companions. She had borne Aurelia's violence 
 patiently, but her most favourite employment was to flatter 
 Wilhelin. Thus she had been the means of keeping the 
 whole company united, and her loss was therefore sensibly 
 felt. 
 
 Serlo could not live without carrying on some little 
 love intrigue. Elmira's person had improved considerably of 
 late : she was now considered beautiful. She had long since 
 attracted Serlo's attention, and Philina had been clever 
 enough to encourage his passion, as soon as she had observed 
 its existence. Serlo and Elmira soon became acquainted 
 with each other, and after Philina's departure a close 
 intimacy commenced between them, and the little romance 
 in which they soon engaged, proved the more interesting, as 
 they found it necessary to conceal it carefully from the girl's 
 father, who would not have endured conduct of a suspicious 
 nature. Elmira's sister had been entrusted with the secret, 
 and Serlo was on this account obliged to overlook many 
 irregularities in both of them. One of her greatest faults 
 was an immoderate indulgence in eating, which indeed 
 amounted to actual gluttony, and in this respect, she differed 
 altogether from Philina, wlio had possessed a peculiar charm 
 from her appearing to subsist on air. She ate but sparingly, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 and seldom drank more than the foaming cream of a glass 
 of champagne, which she sipped with the most exquisite 
 grace imaginable. 
 
 Now, however, in order to please his favourites, Serlo 
 was obliged to connect the breakfast with the dinner, to 
 which, moreover, the supper was united by means of a late 
 luncheon. He had moreover formed a plan, the accomplish- 
 ment of which gave him the greatest trouble. He thought he 
 had discovered a sort of attachment to exist between Wil- 
 helm and Aurelia, and he was above all things anxious that 
 it should assume a serious form. He hoped by this means 
 to throw the entire burden of his theatrical establishment 
 upon Will) elm, expecting to find in him, as in his former 
 brothcr-in- la \v, an honest and industrious coadjutor. He 
 had already by degrees engaged him in all the cares of the 
 management ; Aurelia took care of the money, and Serlo 
 oiuv more led a free and easy life, as he had done in former 
 timed. Yet there was one circumstance, which gave both 
 him and his sister much secret annoyance. 
 
 The public has a peculiar mode of acting towards men of 
 acknowledged talent. It generally treats them with indif- 
 ference, and favours persons of less merit and of m<"e 
 moderate endowments. It makes excessive demands upon 
 the former, and is content with almost anything from the 
 latter. 
 
 Serlo and Aurelia had sufficient cause to make their own 
 reflections upon this peculiarity. The new actors, especially 
 those who were young and handsome, gained all the atten- 
 tion of the public, and the others, notwithstanding their 
 utmost exertions, were generally obliged to retire without 
 mi_ r a welcome tribute of applause. This, however, 
 arose from certain especial causes. Aucelia's pride w^as 
 manifest, and her contempt for the public was generally 
 known. It is true that Serlo flattered every one in turn, 
 but his satirical observations were frequently circulated and 
 repeated. The new actors, on the other hand, were either 
 strangers and wholly unknown to the public, or were young, 
 amiable, and in want of assistance, and for those reasons 
 they found abundance of patrons. 
 
 Ere long, feelings of discontent and dissatisfaction were 
 observable amongst the company, and they no sooner saw 
 
 y 
 
322 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 that "Wilhelm had undertaken the task of manager, than most 
 of the actors grew inattentive and remiss, notwithstanding 
 that he strove earnestly to introduce order and economy 
 amongst them, and particularly insisted that all mechanical 
 duties should be performed with punctuality and precision. 
 
 In a short time, the whole establishment, which seemed 
 lately to have attained an ideal perfection, became as tho- 
 roughly vulgar as the most ordinary strolling company, and 
 unfortunately when Wilhelm, by his diligence, attention, 
 and exertions, had completely comprehended the demands of 
 his profession, and had perfectly trained his person and his 
 habits in conformity therewith, he began to think, in moments 
 of sadness, that this branch of the art did not deserve so 
 large an expenditure of his time and talents as he had 
 devoted to it. His duties were irksome and his remunera- 
 tion was insufficient. He would have preferred some other 
 pursuit in which, after his toils were ended, he might enjoy 
 repose of mind, to an employment in which, after the most 
 excessive mechanical labour, his end could not be attained 
 without the most strenuous efforts both of thought and 
 feeling. Moreover, he had to endure the complaints of 
 Aurelia with respect to her brother's extravagance, and to 
 misunderstand, as it were, the artifices of Serlo in his 
 attempts to bring about a marriage between himself and his 
 sister. He had also to conceal the sorrow which so deeply 
 afflicted him, at the continued absence of the messenger, 
 whom he had sent in quest of the ambiguous officer, and 
 from whom no tidings had arrived. Wilhelm was filled 
 with apprehension lest he might lose his Mariana for the 
 second time. 
 
 Just at this time a public mourning was announced, which 
 caused the theatre to be closed for several weeks. Wilhelm 
 availed himself of this opportunity for visiting the'clergyman, 
 who had taken charge of the old Harper. He resided in a 
 pleasant neighbourhood : and the first object which met 
 Wilhelm' s eye, upon his arrival, was his aged friend, em- 
 ployed in giving lessons to a boy upon his instrument. The 
 Harper evinced great joy at seeing Wilhelm ; he rose from 
 his seat, and holding out his hand, observed, " You see that 
 I can even still be of some use in the world, but allow me 
 to continue my labours, for my whole time is engaged." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 323 
 
 The clergyman received "Wilhelm cordially, informing him 
 that his patient was progressing very favourably, and gave 
 hopes of a complete recovery. 
 
 The conversation turned naturally upon the different 
 methods employed for the cure of insane persons. 
 
 " I find the means of restoring the insane to reason 
 very simple,' ' said the clergyman, " except in those cases 
 where physical causes place insuperable difficulties in the 
 way, upon which occasions I always have recourse to the 
 advice of an experienced physician. They are precisely the 
 means by which a sane person is prevented from becoming 
 deranged. Excite their personal activity, accustom them to 
 order, shew them that their own existence and fate is the 
 com mon lot of millions of their fellow creatures, that extraor- 
 dinary talents, the greatest prosperity and the deepest misery 
 are but slight variations from the general lot of man, and then 
 no mental derangement will make its appearance,, or if it 
 should, will gradually disappear. I have apportioned out 
 the old man's time, he instructs a few children upon the 
 harp, he assists the workmen in the garden, he has already 
 become much more cheerful. He likes to taste the vegeta- 
 bles which he has himself planted, and as he has bequeathed 
 his harp to my son after his own decease, he is anxious to 
 instruct him carefully, in order that the youth may be able 
 to enjoy his legacy. I have not interfered in my character 
 of clergyman with his mysterious scruples, but a life of 
 occupation occasions so many incidents, that he will soon 
 feel how quickly every kind of doubt will give way to 
 activity. I go quietly to work and if I can only 
 induce him to get rid of his beard and his hood, I shall 
 have achieved wonders. Nothing more disposes us to mad- 
 ness than affecting singularity, and nothing assists more to 
 preserve our common sense, than a life spent in the ordinary 
 manner, amidst general society. But, in truth, there aiv 
 many things in our system of education, and in our civic 
 institutions, to predispose us and our children to mental 
 derangement.'' 
 
 Wilhelm spent several days in the society of this intelli- 
 gent man, and learned some interesting particulars, not only 
 of men who are actually deranged, but of others 
 
324 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 considered, not merely rational, but wise men, and yet are 
 possessed of peculiarities which closely resemble insanity. 
 
 Upon the entrance of the doctor, the conversation became 
 trebly interesting. He was in the habit frequently of 
 visiting his friend, the clergyman, and of aiding him in his 
 humane exertions. He was somewhat advanced in years, 
 infirm in health, and had passed a great portion of his life in 
 the exercise of the noblest virtues. He was an ardent lover 
 of a country life, and could hardly exist except in the open 
 air ; at the same time he was active, and fond of society, 
 and he had for many years evinced an anxiety to form an inti- 
 macy with all the country clergymen who would receive his 
 visits. He endeavoured to assist all those who were engaged 
 in any useful occupation, and to encourage a taste for active 
 pursuits, in those who were unemployed. His acquaintance 
 was considerable with the nobility, the judges, and the public 
 officials ; and he had, during a period of twenty years, 
 secretly encouraged many branches of agriculture, and had 
 done much to improve the breed of animals, and the educa- 
 tion of men, thus promoting the public good in the very 
 truest sense. He was accustomed to say, that the greatest 
 misfortune which could happen to man, was his becoming 
 the victim of some idea, which rendered him inactive, and 
 withdrew him from the pursuits of a busy life. " I have, at 
 this very time," he said, " a case before me, and hitherto my 
 treatment has not proved successful. Your advice, my 
 worthy Pastor, may prove of service, and your young com- 
 panion here will not mention the circumstance again. 
 
 " During the absence of a distinguished personage, some 
 persons, in a frolic of which we cannot approve, dressed up 
 a young man in the clothes of the master of the house. The 
 object was to impose upon his wife, and though the circum- 
 stance has been told to me as a jest, I fear that it was done 
 with the intention of leading the noble and amiable lady 
 astray. Her husband returned unexpectedly, proceeded to 
 his own apartment, and conceiving that he had witnessed 
 his own apparition, fell into a state of melancholy, under the 
 conviction that his death was near. He now gives himself 
 up to the society of men, who encourage his religious 
 feelings ; and I fear, that both he and his wife will join the 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 325 
 
 Herrnhuters, and deprive their children and relations of 
 the greater part of their fortune." 
 
 " His wife !" exclaimed Wilhelm in the greatest excite- 
 ment, as he had been more than a little alarmed at the story. 
 
 " And, alas !" continued the physician, who mistook 
 Wilhelm's exclamation for a mere expression of humane 
 sympathy, " the lady is herself the victim of a deeper sorrow, 
 which makes her wish to retire from the world. The young 
 man, whom I have mentioned, was bidding her farewel 1 , 
 she was not sufficiently prudent to conceal an incipient 
 affection which she entertained for him. He grew oold, 
 clasped her in his arms, and pressed a large portrait of her 
 husband, which was set in diamonds, forcibly against her 
 bosom. She felt a pain at the time, which, however, soou 
 disappeared ; a little redness was at first perceptible in the 
 spot, but finally no mark whatever remained^ I am con- 
 vinced, as a man, that she has no cause for reproach ; and I 
 am certain, as a physician, that the slight wound can have 
 no evil effect ; but it is impossible to persuade her, that a 
 hardening of the part will not ensue ; and if you try to 
 convince her of her error by appealing to her sensations, she 
 will answer that she is only free from temporary pain, and 
 is certain that the disease -will end in cancer, and so her 
 youth and personal charms are entirely lost both to herself 
 and others." 
 
 " Unfortunate being that I am !" cried Wilhelm, striking 
 his forehead, and suddenly rushing from the company. He 
 never felt himself in such a desperate condition. 
 
 The clergyman and the physician were astonished beyond 
 measure at this strange discovery ; and they had much 
 trouble with him when he returned in the evening, and cir- 
 cumstantially confessing the whole occurrence, accused 
 himself in the most unequivocal manner. His friends felt the 
 warmest interest in his sufferings, particularly as his de- 
 pressed state of mind caused him to paint the circumstance 
 in the darkest colours. 
 
 On the following day the physician did not need much 
 persuasion to accompany him to the town, both for the B 
 of his society, and that he might, if possible, assist Aurelia, 
 whom our friend had left in a somewhat serious condition. 
 Thy found her rather worse than they had expected. She 
 
326 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 suffered from an attack of intermittent fever, which was 
 more difficult to treat, as she herself intentionally encouraged 
 and stimulated its attacks. The stranger was not announced 
 as a physician, and he displayed much courtesy and prudence. 
 They conversed together about the state of her mind and 
 body, and the stranger related many anecdotes of persons, 
 who, in spite of similar attacks, had attained a good old age, 
 but he observed that nothing was more injurious in such 
 cases than an intentional renewal of passionate excitement. 
 In particular he considered it very fortunate, when, in 
 diseases which were not easily cured, the patient entertained 
 genuine feelings of religion. He stated this in an indifferent 
 manner, as it were incidentally, and promised his new friend 
 the perusal of an interesting manuscript, which he had 
 lately received from the hands of an excellent lady, who was 
 since deceased, "it is to me of inestimable value," he re- 
 marked, " but I will entrust you with the original. The 
 title alone is written by me. I have named it The Con- 
 fessions of a fair Saint" 
 
 With regard to the medical treatment of the unhappy and 
 excited Aurelia, the physician gave Wilhelm the best advice, 
 promised to write to him, and, if possible, to return. In 
 the mean time, during Wilhelm's absence, a very unexpected 
 change had taken place. During his management of the 
 theatre, he had conducted the establishment with great 
 freedom and liberality, considering chiefly the ultimate result, 
 and he had always provided the dresses', the decorations, and 
 every other material, in the most plentiful and abundant 
 manner, and for the purpose of winning the good-will of the 
 actors, he had always flattered their self-interests, as they 
 could not be influenced by any nobler motives. He was the 
 more justified in this course, because Serlo himself made no 
 pretensions to being a good economist ; he was more anxious 
 about the brilliancy of his theatre, and was quite satisfied 
 if Aurelia, who conducted the whole establishment, assured 
 him that she was free from debt, and could spare what was 
 necessary to defray the expenses which Serlo incurred by his 
 extraordinary liberality to his favorites. 
 
 Melina, who had undertaken the management of the ward- 
 robe, had thought over all these things in silence in his own 
 cold and selfish spirit, and upon Wilhelm' s departure and 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 327 
 
 during the increasing illness of Aurelia, he suggested to 
 Serlo, that it was possible to save more, and to spend less, 
 and consequently to lay by something, or else to lead a life 
 of still greater dissipation. Serlo listened with pleasure, 
 and Melina proceeded to unfold his plans. 
 
 " I do not mean to say," he observed, "that any of the 
 actors are at present too extravagantly paid. They are 
 meritorious people, and would be well received any where ; 
 but, nevertheless they are paid too much, considering our 
 receipts. My advice would be to establish an opera, and as 
 for the theatre, I must say that you are the very man tb 
 carrv out such an undertaking without assistance. Do you 
 not observe how your merits are at present neglected ? And 
 it is not because your fellow-actors are excellent, but only 
 good, that you do not receive full justice. Appear upon the 
 boards alone, as you used to do formerly, engage middling, 
 or even inferior actors at small salaries, amuse the public, as 
 you are BO competent to do, with mechanical exhibitions, 
 devote yourself to the opera, and you will find that with the 
 same labour and expense you will give greater satisfaction, 
 and obtain infinitely more money than you have hitherto 
 done." 
 
 Serlo was too highly flattered not to feel the full force of 
 these arguments. He acknowledged to Melina that his love 
 for music had for a long time made him anxious for such an 
 arrangement, but he thought that the public taste would 
 thus become seriously vitiated, and that with a theatre of 
 the proposed description, which would neither be an opera 
 nor a playhouse, any remains of proper feeling for regular 
 and perfect works of art would quickly disappear. 
 
 Meliua ridiculed, in rather coarse terms, Wilhelm's pedan- 
 tic ideas upon this subject, as well as his expectations of 
 leading the public taste, in place of being guided by it, and 
 both he and Serlo at length agreed that their sole object 
 should be to make money, to become rich, and to enjoy a 
 luxurious life, and they made no secret of their wish to get 
 rid of every person who seemed likely to oppose their plan. 
 Melina affected to lament the delicate state of Aurelia's 
 health, which, he said, threatened a fatal termination, though 
 he really thought the contrary. Serlo regretted that AVil- 
 lielm was not a singer, thus intimating that his engagement 
 
328 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 with the company was not absolutely indispensable. Melina 
 now produced a long list of intended savings, and Serlo 
 beheld in him a vision of his brother-in-law three times 
 restored. They both felt the necessity of keeping their 
 intentions quite secret, but this obligation only served to 
 unite them more closely together they, therefore, conversed 
 in private upon everything that occurred, found fault with 
 all the projects of Aurelia and Wilhelm, and proceeded in 
 their endeavors to bring their own plans to perfection. 
 
 But though they were silent with respect to their views, 
 and never allowed their words to betray them, they were 
 not always polite enough in their conduct, wholly to conceal 
 their intentions. Melina, for instance, frequently opposed 
 Wilhelm, in matters which lay especially within the province 
 of the latter, and Serlo, who had never been very kind 
 towards his sister, became now more harsh in his conduct, in 
 proportion as her illness increased, and as her uncertain and 
 excitable disposition seemed to require his indulgence. 
 
 Just at this time they gave a representation of Amelia 
 Galotti. The characters were very well distributed, and 
 within the confined circle of this tragedy, the whole company 
 could display their various powers of acting. Serlo was 
 at home in the part of Marmelli, Madame Melina played 
 the mother with great judgment, Elmira received much 
 applause as Amelia, Laertes was a dignified Appiani, and 
 Wilhelm had devoted several months to the study of the 
 Prince's character. Upon this occasion, he often discussed 
 the following point, not only with himself, but with Serlo 
 and Aurelia, " What is the difference between a noble and a 
 well-bred manner, and how far must the former necessarily 
 be included in the latter, though the latter need not be in- 
 cluded in the former ?" 
 
 Serlo, who, in the part of Marinelli, had to perform the 
 perfect courtier wholly free from caricature, expressed him- 
 self very happily upon this subject. " A well-bred manner," 
 he said, " is difficult to imitate, because its qualities are 
 negative, and it requires a long continued training. It is 
 not necessary, for instance, that your conduct should display 
 a show of dignity, for then haughtiness of deportment and 
 formality will probably be the consequence, but you must 
 avoid all that is undignified and vulgar. Tou must never 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 329 
 
 forget yourself, you must pay strict attention to yourself 
 and others, overlook no fault in your own conduct, and 
 exact from others neither too much nor too little. Nothing 
 must be allowed to agitate or to disturb you, nothing to 
 surprise you. You must keep yourself perfectly collected, 
 and preserve an outward calm, whatever storms may rage 
 within. A person of noble character may sometimes yield 
 to his emotions the well-bred man can never do so. The 
 latter resembles a person attired in the neatest apparel he 
 may not lean against any support, or allow another to touch 
 him. Though he separates himself from others, he may not 
 stand alone, and it happens in this art as in every other, that 
 the greatest difficulties are at length accomplished with ease. 
 The well-bred man, in spite of his real isolation, always 
 appears to form one of the society around him ; he is never 
 stiff but always complaisant ; he should always be recog- 
 nized as the first, yet never insist upon the recognition of 
 his claims. 
 
 " It is evident, therefore, that in order to seem well- 
 bred, one must really be so. And we may clearly see why 
 it is that women can generally assume the airs of high 
 breeding more successfully than men, and why courtiers and 
 officers can so easily attain to that distinction. " 
 
 Wilhelm now almost despaired of his capabilities to per- 
 form the part, but Serlo proved of great assistance to him, 
 making the wisest observations on particular passages, and 
 instructing him so fully, that upon the performance of the 
 play, he passed for a highly respectable prince in the opinion 
 of the public. 
 
 Serlo had promised, that after the play was ended, he 
 would offer such observations upon it as might suggest 
 themselves to him, but an unfortunate disagreement between 
 himself and his sister prevented the communication of his 
 criticisms. Aurelia had acted the character of Orsina in a 
 very unusual style. She was well acquainted with the part ; 
 and had, therefore, been negligent at the rehearsals, but during 
 the performance she displayed all the deep sources of her 
 personal sorrow, and thus produced a representation such as 
 no poet in the earliest gkrw of inspiration could have anti- 
 cipated. The rapturous applause of the public rewarded 
 her painful exertions, but at the conclusion of the piece, she 
 
330 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 was obliged to seek repose upon a sofa in a half-insensible 
 state. 
 
 Serlo had already expressed his dissatisfaction at her 
 exaggerated acting, as he termed it, and at her display of 
 the secret feelings of her heart, as the public were more or 
 less acquainted with her unfortunate history. He had dis- 
 played his anger according to his usual custom, by frowning 
 and stamping with his feet. 
 
 " Let her have her own way," he exclaimed, when he saw 
 her reclining upon the sofa, surrounded by the other actors, 
 " before long she will go upon the stage perfectly naked, 
 and then the applause will be unbounded." 
 
 On the following morning she enjoyed a quiet hour. She 
 sent for Wilhelm and handed him a letter. 
 
 " This sheet," she sold, " has long been prepared for the 
 present moment. I feel that the end of my life is approach- 
 ing, promise, then, that you will keep this paper, and that 
 by a few words you will avenge my death upon the faithless 
 object of my attachment. He is not devoid of feeling, and 
 my death will afflict him for a time." 
 
 Wilhelm took the letter, endeavouring at the same time 
 to comfort her, and to lead her mind from dwelling upon the 
 thoughts of death. 
 
 " No !" she said, " do not deprive me of my dearest hope, 
 I have long waited for his appearance, and I will embrace 
 him gladly when he comes." 
 
 Shortly after this, the manuscript arrived, which had been 
 promised to her by the doctor. She sent for Wilhelm, that 
 he might read it to her, and the effect which it produced 
 will be better understood, when the reader has perused the 
 next book of our narrative. The wayward and violent 
 temper of Aurelia was at once softened by the perusal. She 
 took back her letter, and wrote another in a milder tone, 
 and she begged Wilhelm to console her friend, if he should 
 be afflicted at the news of her death, to assure him that she 
 had forgiven everything, and that she wished him the most 
 perfect happiness. 
 
 From this time, she became more quiet ; her attention 
 being absorbed by a few ideas, which she sought to appro- 
 priate to herself 'from the manuscript, which Wilhelm con- 
 tinued to read occasionally for her amusement. The decay 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 331 
 
 of her strength was imperceptible ; and, one morning when 
 Wilhelm went to visit her, he found her unexpectedly 
 dead. 
 
 The respect which he had entertained for her, and his 
 long-habitual enjoyment of her society, caused him to feel 
 her loss very sensibly. She was the only person who really 
 cared for him, and he bitterly felt the coldness which Serlo 
 had for some time exhibited towards him. He exerted 
 himself, therefore, to discharge the commission with which 
 she had entrusted him, and he was anxious to absent him- 
 self for a time. The journey which he contemplated was 
 highly gratifying to Melina. The latter had, in the course 
 of his extensive correspondence, lately engaged two opera 
 singers, and he intended that their performance at interludes, 
 should prepare the public for his future opera. 
 
 The loss of Aurelia and the absence of Wilhelm were to 
 be supplied by this means ; and Wilhelm was satisfied with 
 ;MI\ arrangement that should facilitate his absence for 
 several weeks. 
 
 He entertained a singular idea of the great importance 
 of his duty. The death of Aurelia had affected him deeply, 
 and as he had seen her depart so early from this transitory 
 scene, he could not help feeling exasperated against a man, 
 who had not only shortened her life, but had embittered 
 the brief term of her existence. 
 
 In spite of the last kind and forgiving words of the 
 dying Aurelia, he determined upon delivering his letter, to 
 pronounce a severe judgment on her faithless friend, and, as 
 he did not wish to depend upon the accidental impressions 
 of the moment, he prepared a speech which during its com- 
 position became highly pathetic in its tone. When he was 
 quite satisfied with the style of his essay, and during the 
 time that he was committing it to memory, he made prepara- 
 tions for his departure. Mignon was present at the packing 
 up of his wardrobe, and she inquired whether he was about 
 to travel towards the south or towards the north, and when 
 he answered in the latter direction, she replied, that, in that 
 case, she would rather wait till he should return. She begged 
 that he would give her the pearl necklace, which had be- 
 longed to Mariana, a request which he could not refuse. He 
 had already given her the neckhandkerchief. She, on her 
 
332 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 side, placed the veil of the ghost in his travelling-bag, 
 although he assured her that it would be wholly useless 
 to him. 
 
 Melina now undertook the directorship ; his wife pro- 
 mised to watch the children with a mother's eye, and 
 Wilhelm bade her adieu with great sorrow. Eelix was in 
 good spirits at the moment of his departure, and when he 
 was asked what present he wished that Wilhelm should 
 bring him upon his return, he cried, " Listen, bring me a 
 papa." Mignon seized Wilhelm' s hand, and standing 
 upon her tip-toes, she pressed it to her lips, with a warm 
 and cordial kiss, in which, however, there was no touch of 
 tenderness, exclaiming, at the same time, " Master ! do not 
 forget us, and return soon." 
 
 And now, leaving Wilhelm to pursue his journey, amid a 
 thousand conflicting thoughts and emotions, we will here 
 subjoin, by way of conclusion, a little poem which Mignon 
 had several times recited with great feeling, and to which 
 the pressure of so many extraordinary events has hitherto 
 prevented us from directing the attention of our readers. 
 
 0, do not bid me speak, I pray, 
 
 For silence is my duty now ; 
 I could my inmost soul display, 
 
 But fate may not such deed allow. 
 
 The morning sunbeams rise in strength, 
 Their gladdening rays o'er night to fling 
 
 And hardest rocks reveal at length 
 
 To earth some sweet refreshing spring. 
 
 In friendship's arms while some repose, 
 
 And all their sorrows freely speak, 
 A solemn oath my lips doth close, 
 
 Which God alone can bid me break. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 333 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 CONFESSIONS OF A FAIR SAINT. 
 
 UNTIL I had reached my eighth year, I was a healthy 
 child, but I can remember no more of the intervening period 
 than of the day of my birth. At the commencement of my 
 eighth year, I suffered from a serious illness, and from that 
 time all the powers of my soul became absorbed in feeling 
 and in memory. The most trifling circumstances connected 
 with that event, are now before my eyes as vividly as if 
 they had happened only yesterday. 
 
 During the nine months of my tedious confinement to 
 bed, (a misfortune which I endured with great patience), the 
 foundation of my whole tone of thought was laid, for my 
 mind then found the first opportunity of developing itself. 
 
 I suffered and I loved this was the peculiar property of 
 my heart. During the most violent fits of coughing and of 
 wasting fever, I lay as still as a snail would do within its 
 shell, but the instant that I obtained relief, I panted for 
 some enjoyment, and as every other gratification was for- 
 bidden, I sought innocently to entertain my ears and my 
 eyesi I was plentifully supplied with dolls and pictures, 
 and whoever came to my bed side was. obliged to amuse me 
 with an anecdote. 
 
 I was charmed with my mother's relation of the Bible his- 
 tories, and my father entertained me with a display of natural 
 curiosities. He possessed a very choice museum, from which 
 he exhibited to me the several compartments in succession, 
 pointing out the various contents and explaining their dif- 
 ferent properties. Dried plants, insects, and anatomical 
 preparations of human skin, bones, mummies, and so forth, 
 were in turn laid out upon the bed of the little invalid, and 
 the birds and animals which had been obtained in field 
 
334 WILIIELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 sports, were always shown to me before they were taken to 
 the kitchen. And in order that the prince of the world 
 might not be wholly excluded, my aunt frequently amused 
 me with a relation of love stories and fairy tales. Every- 
 thing was received by me and took root in my imagination. 
 There were hours in which I held intimate communication 
 with the unseen Being. I still remember some verses which 
 my mother wrote down at the time, from my dictation. 
 
 I frequently recapitulated to my father the information 
 which I had acquired from him. I seldom took a medicinal 
 preparation, without asking where the several materials had 
 grown, of which it was composed, and without inquiring into 
 their various properties, and asking their names. It was soon 
 evident that the anecdotes recounted by my aunt had not 
 fallen upon dry ground. I sometimes fancied myself attired 
 in fine clothes, and hastening to meet the most handsome 
 princes, who were unable to find either rest or repose till 
 they had ascertained who the unknown beauty was. A 
 similar adventure with a charming little angel, who courted 
 me, attired in a white dress and golden wings, took such 
 firm hold of my imagination, that his form was almost visible. 
 
 At the expiration of a year, I was nearly restored to 
 health, but I had lost all the giddiness of youth. Dolls no 
 longer afforded me any pleasure,! panted for some living thing 
 which should be capable of returning my love. Dogs, cats, 
 and birds, of which my father had a large collection, afforded 
 me extreme delight, but what would I not now have given, 
 to possess one of those creatures which used to play so im- 
 portant a part in the stories of my aunt ? I mean a lamb, 
 which had been found by a peasant girl and nourished in 
 a wood, but under the appearance of this innocent animal 
 an enchanted prince had lain concealed, until at length he 
 assumed his real shape and rewarded his benefactress with 
 his hand. How would I have been delighted with the 
 possession of such a lamb ! 
 
 But no such happiness was in store for me, and as the 
 whole course of events seemed quite natural and common- 
 place, I gradually abandoned all hope of meeting such a 
 precious treasure. In the mean time, however, I found 
 comfort in books which contained an account of the most 
 wonderful adventures. My favourite work was the " Chris- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 335 
 
 tian German Hercules" that pious love story was quite 
 after my heart. The hero of the tale, when any thing 
 happened to his Yaliska (and dreadful events were constantly 
 occurring), was always accustomed to pray, before he 
 ued to her assistance, and the prayers were given at full 
 length in the book. How highly did that delight me ! My 
 love for the Invisible which I had always felt in a mysterious 
 manner, was by this means increased, for God was hence- 
 forth always to be my confidant. 
 
 My reading became more desultory as I grew older, but 
 I valued the "Roman Octavia" beyond every other work. 
 The persecutions of the first Christians, which were related 
 in the style of a romance, excited the warmest interest in my 
 mind. 
 
 My mother at length began to complain of my continual 
 reading, and my father, in order to gratify her wishes, 
 deprived me of my books, but never failed to restore them 
 to me on the following day. My mother was clever enough 
 to perceive that she coum not thus attain the object which 
 she had in view, and therefore she sought to impress upon 
 me, the necessity of readiug my Bible, with the same atten- 
 tion \*hich I bestowed upon other works.. I needed no 
 compulsion to obey, and I perused the holy Scriptures with 
 the greatest interest. My mother was at all times careful 
 that no bad books should fall into my hands, immoral 
 writings I should instantly have rejected of my own accord, 
 for my princes and princesses were all remarkable for their 
 love of virtue. 
 
 I had to thank my mother, as well as my own love of 
 learning, for my acquaintance with the art of cookery, with- 
 out applying to books for information. Much was to be 
 learnt from observation. I took great delight in cutting up 
 a fowl or any other animal. I would then show the different 
 parts to my father, who discoursed to me about them, as he 
 would have done with a young student of anatomy, and 
 with real but silent joy, he would call me his strangely dis- 
 positioned child. 
 
 I was now in my thirteenth year. I had learnt French, 
 dancing and drawing, and had received the customary in- 
 struction in religion. This latter study awakened my feel- 
 ings and my thoughts, but I found nothing in it which 
 
WILHELM MEISTER S 
 
 properly affected my own condition. I was pleased to hear 
 God spoken of, and I was proud that I could converse about 
 him better than my equals. I read many books which enabled 
 me to talk about religion, but it never occurred to me to 
 reflect upon my own situation, to ask whether my soul was 
 trained according to the required standard, whether it 
 resembled a mirror which reflected back the rays of the 
 eternal Sun all this I had taken for granted. 
 
 I learnt French with much eagerness. My master was a 
 clever man. He was no thoughtless empiric, no dry gram- 
 marian, he possessed much knowledge and had seen the 
 world. Whilst teaching me the language, he satisfied my 
 anxiety for information in a thousand ways. I loved him 
 so much, that I always expected his arrival with a palpitating 
 heart. I did not find drawing difficult, and I should have 
 made much more decided progress therein, if my master had 
 possessed a head and more science, as it was, he possessed 
 only hands and practice. 
 
 Dancing at first aflbrded me the smallest amount of amuse- 
 ment. My constitution was too delicate, and I took lessons 
 only in the society of my sister. But our master soon 
 adopted the plan of inviting his pupils of both sexes to a 
 ball, and the pleasures of dancing were by this means won- 
 derfully increased. 
 
 Amongst the crowd of youths and maidens who were 
 present, two sons of the Marshal of the Court were parti- 
 cularly remarkable. The younger was of my own age, and 
 the other w r as two years my senior, they were both of sur- 
 passing beauty, and it was universally admitted that no one 
 had ever seen their equals. Scarcely had I observed them, 
 than I ceased to notice any other person, from that moment 
 I paid attention to my steps, and became anxious to dance 
 well. How did it happen that, on their parts, these two 
 youths also distinguished me from all my companions ? But 
 enough in an hour we had become the very best friends, 
 and before the little entertainment had concluded, we had 
 arranged where and when our next interview was to take 
 place. Imagine my delight ! But I was positively en- 
 raptured, when on the following day, they both inquired for 
 me in a polite note, accompanied by a bouquet. I have 
 never since felt the sensations which I then experienced. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 337 
 
 Compliments wore then mutually paid, and a constant 
 interchange of letters took place. The church and the 
 public promenades were henceforth converted into places of 
 rendezvous, and all our young friends invited us together 
 upon every occasion, though we were prudent enough 
 to conceal our attachment so carefully, that our parents 
 observed no more of it than we judged advisable. 
 
 I had now won two lovers, although I had as yet formed 
 no decision in favour of either, in point of fact they both 
 pleased me, and we were on the best of terms together. 
 Suddenly the elder brother became unwell, and as I myself 
 had frequently been ill, I had acquired some experience of 
 the dainties which were suited to an invalid, and I was thus 
 enabled to contribute to his comfort. His parents were 
 t'ul for my attention, and they soon acceded to the 
 request of their dear son, and invited me and my sister to 
 visit him, when he had risen from his bed. The affection 
 with which he received me, was not the feeling of a child, 
 and from that day 1 decided in his favour. At the same 
 time he warned me to hide our secret from his brother, but 
 our love could not be concealed, and the jealousy of the 
 younger one rendered our romance complete. He played 
 us a thousand tricks, he strove to ruin our happiness, and 
 by that means only increased those feelings of love w r hich he 
 sought to annihilate. 
 
 I had now at length found my long wished for lamb, and 
 the passion which I indulged affected me like an illness, 
 rendering me calm and withdrawing me from all noisy plea- 
 sures. I loved solitude I felt deeply agitated and thoughts 
 of God again took possession of my mind. He was once 
 more my confidant, and well do I remember the tears with 
 which I used to pray for the dear youth, whose recovery was 
 not yet complete. 
 
 The thorough innocence of this proceeding contributed 
 extremely to the formation of my heart. In compliance with 
 the directions of our French master, we now exchanged our 
 customary translations, for letters of our own composition. 
 I gave an account of my love adventure, under the convenient 
 names of Phyllis and Damon. The old man saw through tin 4 
 disguise, and in order to render me communicative, he 
 highly praised the execution of my task. I became bolder, 
 
338 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 spoke out more freely, and actually carried some truth into 
 my details. I do not now remember the passage, which caused 
 him upon one occasion to observe, " How pretty, how 
 natural all this is ! But the good Phyllis must beware, or 
 it may become serious !" 
 
 I felt distressed that he did not consider the affair as 
 serious already, and I asked him in a tone of dissatisfaction, 
 what he meant by serious ? It was not necessary to repeat 
 my inquiry, for he at once explained himself so clearly, that 
 I was unable to conceal my alarm. But a feeling of anger 
 soon succeeded, and I was indignant that he should entertain 
 such thoughts, but willing to defend my imaginary maiden, 
 I answered, with blushing cheeks, " But, my good Sir! 
 Phyllis is an honorable girl!" 
 
 He was wicked enough to jest with me about my honorable 
 heroine, and as our conversatiou was carried on in French, 
 he played upon the meaning of the word " honnete" and 
 pursued the honour of Phyllis through all its significations. 
 1 felt the absurdity of this, and was beyond measure per- 
 plexed. But he, unwilling to alarm me too much, broke off 
 for a time, though, he returned to the subject upon many 
 subsequent occasions. Plays and little romances, which I 
 read and translated for him, afforded him frequent oppor- 
 tunities of demonstrating how weak is the protection of our 
 boasted virtue against the solicitations of love. I ceased to 
 contradict him, though I was secretly offended and I felt 
 his observations to be distressing. 
 
 But my communications with Damon were soon brought 
 to a close. The chicanery of the younger brother had 
 destroyed our intercourse, and a short time afterwards these 
 promising youths died. I was sorry for a time, but both of 
 them were soon forgotten. 
 
 Phyllis now grew rapidly she was in the bloom of youth 
 and health, and anxious to see the world. The hereditary 
 Prince married about this time, arid soon afterwards, upon 
 the decease of his father, he commenced his reign. The 
 court and town were alive with excitement, and my feelings 
 of curiosity were gratified to the fullest extent. There was 
 an abundance of plays and balls with their usual accompani- 
 ments, and though my parents were anxious for retirement, 
 they were obliged to appear a' v^irt. where my introduction 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 339 
 
 accordingly took place. Strangers flocked to the palace in 
 crowds, entertainments were given in every house, many 
 dashing cavaliers were introduced and recommended to me ; 
 and at my uncle's house, I may say that there was an actual 
 congregation of nations. 
 
 My trustworthy Mentor continued his warnings in a 
 del irate but decided tone, and in my secret heart I was not 
 displeased at his interference. But I was by no means 
 convinced of the truth of his assertion, "that women are 
 under all circumstances weak ;" he might have been right 
 or wrong in his opinion, but his tone became so earnest that 
 I grew alarmed and observed to him upon one occasion, 
 in a tone of seriousness, u if the danger is so great, and the 
 human heart so weak, I will implore of God to preserve 
 me." 
 
 This simple observation appeared to please him, he praised 
 my resolution, though I had then no actual intention of ful- 
 filling it. They were but empty words for in point of tact 
 every feeling of reverence for the Invisible was at that time 
 well nii^h extinguished within me. The scenes of dissipation 
 in which I was perpetually engaged perplexed and confounded 
 me, and bore me along in an irresistible torrent. This was the 
 most unprofitable portion of my existence. For whole days 
 I abstained from instructive conversation, I avoided all useful 
 thoughts and devoted myself to the merest dissipation. 
 Never for a moment did I think of my beloved books. The 
 people by whom I was surrounded had not the slightest 
 acquaintance with literature. They were a class of German 
 courtiers, and at that period such people were destitute of 
 every species of mental culture . 
 
 One would have thought that society of this kind must 
 have led me to the brink of ruin. I passed an existence 
 of mere corporal cheerfulness; I never examined myself, I 
 never prayed, I never even thought of my own condition, or 
 of God. Yet I must thank Heaven that I was not capti- 
 vated by any of the handsome, rich, and well dressed men 
 by whom I was surrounded ; they were dissipated in their 
 conduct, and made no secret of their vices, this terrified 
 me. Their conversation was obscene and painful, on which 
 account I became reserved in my intercourse with them 
 
340 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 occasionally their improprieties surpassed belief, and then I 
 could not avoid behaving rudely to them. 
 
 In addition, my experienced adviser had upon one occasion 
 informed me in confidence, that with the greater part of the 
 gentry, not only virtue but health itself was in danger. I 
 became afraid of them from that moment, and I trembled if 
 one of them approached me. I avoided henceforth all the 
 glasses and drinking cups, and even the very chairs which 
 they had touched. Thus, both in a moral and physical sense, 
 I became wholly separated from them, and I satisfied myself 
 with haughtily receiving as my right, all the compliments 
 which they bestowed upon me. 
 
 Among the strangers who at this time resided with us, one 
 young man was particularly distinguished, whom, in jest, we 
 named Narcissus. He had acquired some fame in the diplo- 
 matic circles, and amongst the many changes which were 
 then occurring at court, he hoped to obtain some lucrative em- 
 ployment. He soon became acquainted with my father, and 
 his acquirements and elegant manner immediately ensured 
 his admission to the most select and accomplished circles. 
 My father was constant in his praises, and his handsome 
 figure would ha,ve produced a still greater impression, if he 
 had not been so thoroughly imbued with conceit. I had 
 already seen him and he had won my good opinion, but we 
 had never conversed together. 
 
 We met upon one occasion at a large ball, where we 
 danced a minuet together, but our acquaintance did not 
 thereby become more intimate. I was accustomed to avoid the 
 more violent dances, in deference to my father's wishes, as 
 he felt so much anxiety about my health, and during one 
 of these, I had retired to an adjoining apartment, where I 
 found amusement in conversing with some of my older com- 
 panions, who were engaged at cards. 
 
 Narcissus being fatigued with dancing, entered the apart- 
 ment to recover himself a little, and he soon fell into 
 general conversation with me. Before half an hour had 
 elapsed, we were so agreeably entertained, that we could 
 not think of returning to the ball room, and though our 
 friends jested with us upon the circumstance, we were not 
 turned from our agreeable occupation. On the following 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 evening we met again, and our pleasant conversation was 
 resumed. 
 
 A perfect acquaintance was now established between us. 
 Narcissus paid constant visits to me, and to my sisters, and 
 from that time I began to inquire into the extent of my 
 knowledge, to examine into my feelings and sensations, and 
 to improve my powers of conversation. My new friend, 
 who had always moved in the best society, in addition to his 
 historical and political acquirements, which were per fort, 
 possessed very extensive literary knowledge, and he was 
 a stranger to nothing that issued from the press, especially 
 in France. It was his habit to bring or send me many a 
 delightful book, but this we kept as profound a secret as we 
 should have done forbidden love. Learned women were at 
 that time considered ridiculous, and even well instructed 
 ladies were scarcely tolerated, probably because it was 
 deemed impolite to put so many ignorant men to the blush. 
 my father, who was quite delighted with this new oppor- 
 tunity of cultivating my mind, expressly insisted that our 
 literary intercourse should not be divulged. 
 
 Our intimacy had now lasted for a whole year, and I 
 cannot say that Narcissus had ever even indirectly expressed 
 the least love or tenderness for me. His conduct was inva- 
 riably kind and complaisant, but wholly devoid of affection ; 
 indeed he seemed to be rather attracted by the charms of my 
 younger sister, who was then extremely beautiful. In jest he 
 iier many friendly foreign names, for he spoke several 
 languages fluently, and he frequently introduced foreign ex- 
 pressions into his conversation. She did not return his 
 civilities with any cordiality, as her thoughts were otherwise 
 engaged, and as she was of rather a wayward disposition and 
 he was particularly sensitive, they were constantly quarrel- 
 ling about trifles. He agreed very well with my mother and 
 aunts, and thus he gradually became a member of the family. 
 Who can say how long we might have continued to 
 live in this manner, if a singular accident had not all 
 at once occurred. In company with my sisters I had 
 received an invitation from a certain family, which I uas 
 very reluctant to accept. The society was not select, and 
 the house was often frequented by rude and uneducated 
 persons. On the present occasion, Narcissus was invited 
 
$12 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 to accompany us, and I was inclined to go on his account, 
 as I could then make sure of finding somebody with whom 
 I could be entertained in my own way. Even during dinner 
 many things occurred, of which we had reason to complain, 
 for some of the guests had drunk to excess, and subsequently 
 they insisted on playing a game of forfeits. A general noise 
 and tumult ensued. Narcissus had lost a forfeit, and he 
 was directed to redeem it by whispering something agreeable 
 in the ear of every individual in the company. He lingered 
 too long, as it appears, with a lady who was sitting near me, 
 the wife of a military officer : whereupon the latter struck 
 him so violent a blow upon the ear, that the powder flew 
 from his hair in all directions. When I had recovered a 
 little from my alarm, I observed that they had both drawn 
 their swords. Narcissus was bleeding, and the other, ex- 
 cited by wine, anger, and jealousy, could scarcely be restrained 
 by the whole company from doing some further act of 
 violence. I seized Narcissus by the arm, and led him from 
 the apartment. I conducted him to a room up-stairs, and 
 as I did not deem that my friend even here was safe from 
 his enraged enemy, I bolted the door. 
 
 "We did not think the injury a serious one, for we per- 
 ceived only a slight cut across the hand ; but we were soon 
 alarmed by the sight of blood which was flowing down his 
 back, and which issued from a deep wound in his head. I 
 felt alarmed. I ran to the stairs to procure assistance, but 
 1 could see no one, for the whole party had remained below 
 to assist in quieting the infuriated captain. At length one 
 of the daughters of our hostess appeared, and her air of 
 mirth distressed me, as she could not help laughing heartily 
 at the extraordinary scene which had occurred. I implored 
 her to send for a surgeon, whereupon she rushed down stairs 
 for the purpose. 
 
 I returned to my wounded friend, and tied my handker- 
 chief about his hand, and bound his head with a napkin 
 which hung against the door. Streams of blood still flowed 
 from the wound. He turned pale, and appeared about to 
 faint. There was no one near to render any assistance, so 
 I took him without farther ceremony in my arms, and sought 
 to cheer his spirits by patting his cheek, and speaking kindly 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 343 
 
 to him. The good effect was immediate, he continued to 
 retain his senses, but he was still deadly pale. 
 
 At length our hostess entered, and she evinced the 
 greatest alarm at seeing my friend in such a condition, lying 
 in my arms, whilst we were both covered with blood. No 
 one had informed her that Narcissus had been wounded, all 
 imagined that I had taken him away in safety. 
 
 Wine, scent-bottles, and every thing else that could refresh 
 and stimulate him, were now produced in abundance. The 
 surgeon also arrived, and it seemed high time for me to 
 : but Narcissus held me firmly by the hand, though 
 indeed 1 should have remained without any such compulsion. 
 Whilst they bound his wounds I continued to supply him 
 with wine, and 1 was wholly indifferent to the presence of 
 the rest of the company. When the surgeon had completed 
 his task, my friend took a silent but affectionate leave of me, 
 and he was then carried home. 
 
 Our hostess now conducted me to her bed-room, she 
 insisted on undressing me, and whilst they washed the 
 blood from my person, I could perceive with pleasure 
 for the first time, in a mirror, that I might be considered 
 beautiful without the aid of clothing. I could not resume 
 any part of my own apparel, and as my friends were all 
 either taller or shorter than myself, I returned home to the 
 astonishment of my family, dressed in the strangest possible 
 disguise. The latter were indignant at the fright which I 
 had sustained, as well as at the wound of my friend, at the 
 follv of the captain, and, indeed, at the whole occurrence. 
 }I\ lather was on the very point of avenging his friend, by 
 challenging the captain on the spot. He censured the gen- 
 tlemen who had been present, for not having instantly 
 punished the murderous attack ; for it was too clear that the 
 captain, after he had struck Narcissus the first blow, had 
 drawn his sword, and wounded him from behind : the cut 
 upon the hand had not been given, until Narcissus was in 
 the act of drawing his sword. I was affected and distressed 
 beyond measure. I know not how to describe my sensa- 
 tions The emotions which had lain asleep within my heart 
 were aroused at once, like flames when they receive the 
 air. And if a state of happiness and joy are well adapted 
 for the first production, and the secret nourishment of love, 
 
344 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 this feeling, which is impetuous by nature, is most easily 
 impelled by terror to a declaration and decision. I was re- 
 commended to retire to bed ; and iny father, on the following 
 morning, visited our wounded friend, and found him suffering 
 from an attack of fever. 
 
 My father communicated to me but little of the conversa- 
 tion which ensued ; but he sought to tranquillise my mind 
 as to the probable results of the event which had occurred. 
 It was doubtful whether they should accept an apology, or 
 whether the affair should be brought before a Court of 
 Justice. I knew my father too well to suppose that he 
 would be satisfied at seeing the matter end without a duel ; 
 but I remained silent, having long since learnt from him, 
 that it was wrong for our sex to interfere with things of this 
 description. It did not seem that any other circumstance 
 had happened between them, in which my interests were 
 much concerned ; but before long my father communicated 
 in confidence the purport of his further conversation to my 
 mother. He stated, that Narcissus appeared to be much 
 affected at the assistance which I had rendered him, that he 
 had embraced my father, and declared that he was my 
 everlasting debtor, and that he desired no happiness which 
 he could not share with me ; and begged that he might be 
 pmnitted to consider my father as his own. My mother re- 
 peated all this to me, adding the prudent reflection, " that 
 as these expressions of my wounded friend had escaped from 
 him in the first agitation of his mind, no great importance 
 ouuht, perhaps, to be attributed to them." " You are quite 
 ri^ht," I replied, with affected indifference, though Heaven 
 alone can tell the nature of my feelings at the moment. 
 
 Narcissus remained ill for two months, and the wound in 
 his right hand prevented him from writing ; but in the mean 
 time he evinced his attachment for me by the most obliging 
 attentions. Uniting all these unusual civilities with the 
 account which I had received from my mother, my mind 
 became filled with all sorts of fancies. The whole city talked 
 of the circumstance. I was myself addressed by my friends 
 in a tone of seriousness, and they drew inferences from the 
 occurrence which affected me deeply, notwithstanding all 
 ny efforts to avoid them. All that before had seemed but 
 ae result of habit and trifling, assumed now the form of a 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 345 
 
 serious attachment, and my continued anxiety became the 
 stronger, the more I sought to hide it from my acquaintance. 
 I \v;is terrified at the apprehension of losing him, and the 
 possibility of forming a nearer connection made me tremble. 
 The very thought of marriage is alarming to the mind of a 
 mere girl. 
 
 These ceaseless agitations compelled me once more to re- 
 collect myself. The bright picture of a thoughtless life, 
 which had ever been before my eyes, now completely 
 vanished. My soul awoke ; but my long interrupted in- 
 timacy with my Invisible friend was not so easily renewed. 
 We still continued widely separated something of my old 
 feeling towards him returned ; but I could observe a strange 
 difference. 
 
 A duel had taken place without my knowledge, in which 
 the captain was severely wounded, and the public opinion 
 was expressed loudly in favour of my friend, who appeared 
 once more upon the scene. He had already visited us with 
 a wounded head and hand, and violent were the beatings of 
 my heart upon the occasion. The whole family was present, 
 and nothing more occurred on either side, than mere expres- 
 sions of thanks and formal displays of politeness ; but he 
 found an opportunity to afford me some private evidences of 
 his affection, which once more rendered me restless. Upon 
 his complete recovery Narcissus resumed his visits, and 
 during the entire winter he continued on the same intimate 
 footing as formerly ; but notwithstanding all his secret tokens 
 of attachment ana love, the whole affair remained undecided. 
 
 Thus was I kept in a constant state of excitement. But 
 I could not entrust any one with my secret, and I was too 
 far removed from God to enjoy happiness. For four long 
 years I had quite forgotten him : and now, when I thought 
 of him once more, my feelings had grown cold, and my visits 
 to him were those of mere ceremony ; and, as upon those 
 occasions, I always dressed myself in my very best attire, 
 and never failed to make a display of my virtue, honour, and 
 superior excellence, he failed to recognise me in my finery. 
 
 A courtier would have been much disappointed if a Prince, 
 from whom he expected promotion, had acted towards him 
 in this manner, but it did not, in the least, affect me. I 
 had everything that I needed, health and the ordinary 
 
346 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 comforts of life. I was content if it should please Grod to 
 think of me, and if he should not, I flattered myself that I 
 had at least discharged my duty. 
 
 This, however, was not my opinion at that period, but it 
 is the true description of my state of mind. But prepara- 
 tions were already in progress which were to change and 
 purify my thoughts. 
 
 The season of spring arrived. One day Narcissus visited 
 me unannounced, when I was quite alone. He declared 
 himself to be my lover, and asked me whether I would enrich 
 him with my heart, and bless him with my hand as soon 
 as he* should succeed in obtaining some honourable and lucra- 
 tive appointment. 
 
 He had already been taken into the service of the state ; 
 but he had been kept back, and his promotion had been 
 impeded by misapprehensions of his ambitious character ; 
 and as he was possessed of a small private fortune, the salary 
 which he received was inconsiderable. 
 
 Notwithstanding my affection for him, I knew that he 
 was not a person towards whom one could act with perfect 
 frankness. I determined therefore to refer him to my 
 father ; and though Narcissus did not apprehend his refusal, 
 he was anxious first to obtain my own consent. At length 
 I accepted him, but made the approbation of my parents 
 an indispensable condition of our engagement. He spoke 
 formally to them both ; and they expressed their satisfaction 
 and agreed to his proposal, upon the prospect of his ap- 
 proaching promotion, which was anxiously looked for. Sisters 
 and aunts were informed of the arrangement ; but a promise 
 of secresy was exacted from them. 
 
 My lover was now converted into a bridegroom. The 
 difference between these characters soon shewed itself to be 
 considerable. If the lovers of all honorable maidens could 
 be converted into bridegrooms, it would confer a great benefit 
 upon the whole sex, even though marriage should not always 
 be the result. The love of affianced persons undergoes no 
 change : but it becomes more reasonable. Countless little 
 follies, coquetteries and humours instantly vanish. Should 
 the bridegroom say that we look better in a morning cap 
 than in the most elaborate head-dress, no prudent young 
 lady will henceforth trouble, herself about the latter ; and 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 347 
 
 nothing is more natural, than that a husband should think 
 of solid advantages, and should rather prefer to form a 
 careful housewife for himself than to decorate a dull for 
 others. And it is the same in every other affair of lift 4 . 
 
 If a young lady so circumstanced has the good fortune to 
 possess a bridegroom of talents and education, she learns 
 more from his instruction, than she could do from univer- 
 sities or foreign travel. She not only receives his informa- 
 tion gladly, but she exerts herself strenuously to improve 
 herself. Love renders impossibilities themselves possible. 
 Before long that obedience begins, which is so necessary and 
 so becoming in the female sex, but the bridegroom does not 
 exercise authority like the husband ; he merely asks, and 
 his intended partner tries to anticipate his wishes, and to 
 fulfil them before he can solicit their performance. 
 
 Jn this way did I learn from experience lessons which I 
 would not, on any account, have missed. And I now felt as 
 happy as any woman in the world could feel for a time. 
 
 A summer passed away amid these quiet joys. Narcissus 
 never gave me the smallest reason to complain. He grew 
 dearer to me every day. My whole soul was his that he 
 well knew, and he knew how to prize his knowledge. In 
 the meantime something arose from the veriest trifles, 
 which threatened, by degrees, to prove injurious to our 
 union. 
 
 Narcissus conducted himself respectfully towards me as 
 his affianced bride, and never dared to solicit the concession 
 of any unlawful freedom. But our opinions differed as to 
 the proper boundaries of modesty and virtue. It was my 
 wish to walk securely, and to permit nothing which the 
 whole world might not have observed. But he had been 
 otherwise brought up, and did not approve of such strict- 
 nessconstant disputes thus arose between us, but he 
 never failed to praise my modesty though he sought to 
 undermine my resolution. 
 
 And now the serious observations of my old French 
 teacher occurred to me, as well as the measures of protec- 
 tion which I had spoken of at the same time. 
 
 I had once more resumed my intercourse with heaven. 
 God had provided me with a dearly loved bridegroom, and 
 I felt grateful for the favour. My earthly love had concen- 
 
348 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 trated my whole soul and awakened all its energies, and these 
 were not opposed to my intercourse with heaven. I poured 
 out my complaints to God about everything that alarmed 
 me, without observing that I was all the time seeking to 
 possess the very object which occasioned my apprehensions. 
 With full confidence in my own powers I did not pray, 
 " Lead me not into temptation ;" for, with regard to temp- 
 tation, I had neither a thought nor a fear. Attired in this 
 flimsy tinsel work of virtue, I presented myself before God : 
 He did not reject me. The slightest advance which I made 
 towards Him left the softest impression upon my sou], and 
 this feeling induced me again to seek his presence. 
 
 In the whole world no other being lived for me except 
 Narcissus, and no other object possessed the smallest 
 charm. My love for dress had no other end than to please 
 him, for if I had been certain that I was not to meet his 
 eye, I should have neglected it altogether. I loved dancing, 
 but when he was not near, the amusement was hateful to 
 me. To appear at a brilliant entertainment to which he 
 was not invited, I would neither purchase new dresses nor 
 arrange old ones according to the prevailing fashion. I 
 was, in that case, indifferent to everything, or, rather, one 
 thing was equally distasteful to me as another. I thought 
 my evenings well spent when I could assist at a card party, 
 although formerly I disliked amusements of that description, 
 and wlien some kind old friend rallied me upon the change, 
 I would smile, perhaps, for the first time during the whole 
 evening. It was the same with promenades and every 
 other social entertainment 
 
 I had chosen him for my own 
 I seemed to live for him alone, 
 I longed for nothing but his love. 
 
 Thus, even in the midst of society, I was often alone, and 
 perfect solitude was my greatest delight. But my busy 
 mind could neither sleep nor dream. I felt, and thought, 
 and wished for power to describe my feelings and my inter- 
 course with God. Certain other emotions soon became un- 
 folded in my mind, which were not discordant with those I 
 have described. My love towards Narcissus was in perfect 
 harmony with the great plan of nature, and was in no 
 respect opposed to my duties. They did not contradict 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 349 
 
 each other, and yet they were essentially different in 
 character. Narcissus was the only being who filled my 
 mind and engaged all my affections, but the other feeling of 
 which I have spoken, bore relation to nothing which existed, 
 though it was unspeakably pleasant. But I possess it no 
 longer now, and am incapable of imparting it to another. 
 
 My lover, who was acquainted with almost all my secrets, 
 knew nothing of this. I soon found that we did not wholly 
 coincide in thought, as he occasionally lent me books which, 
 with frivolous or serious arguments, controverted the idea of 
 a connection with the Invisible. I perused the books 
 because they came from him, but I never remembered a 
 single word that they contained. 
 
 His conduct with regard to my studies of the sciences, 
 and of the other branches of knowledge, was no less 
 incomprehensible. After the fashion of men, he laughed at 
 the idea of learned women, and yet he never ceased to 
 instruct me. With the exception of law, he was accustomed 
 to converse with me upon all subjects, and whilst he pro- 
 vided me with books of every description, he always re- 
 peated the doubtful maxim, " that a woman ought to 
 conceal her knowledge more closely than a Calvinist his 
 faith in Catholic countries." And whilst I, therefore, en- 
 deavoured not to display my learning, more than I had 
 formerly been accustomed to do, he could not resist the 
 vanity of perpetually boasting of me and of my acquire- 
 ments. 
 
 A person of much celebrity, and who was also highly 
 esteemed for his talents and influence, was at this time 
 residing at the court, and was received everywhere with great 
 applause. He had selected Narcissus for his companion, 
 and kept him constantly in his society. An argument arose 
 between them upon one occasion about female virtue, 
 ssus related the conversation to me at length, and I 
 offered my own remarks upon the subject, in consequence of 
 which, he requested that I would reduce my opinions 
 to writing. I could correspond easily in French, as I had 
 been well grounded in that language by the instructions of 
 ray teacher. I had also frequently written to Narcissus in 
 French ; and, at that period, the higher branches of instruc- 
 tion could only be derived from French books. The Count 
 
350 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 was pleased with my essay, and I was requested to furnish 
 him with some little songs which I had formerly composed. 
 In short, Narcissus took the greatest pleasure in making a 
 display of the talents of his beloved. The whole affair 
 ended, to his unfeigned delight, with a poetical epistle in 
 French, which the Count forwarded to him upon his de- 
 parture. It alluded to the friendly argument which they 
 had formerly had together, and my friend was cordially 
 congratulated upon being destined, after so many doubts 
 and errors, to learn what virtue was, in the arms of a virtuous 
 and loving wife. 
 
 This poem was shewn to me in the first place, and then to 
 almost all our friends, every one forming his own opinion 
 upon its merits. He acted generally in this manner, and 
 almost every stranger whom he valued, became intimate at 
 our house. 
 
 A family of rank was passing some time in the place, to 
 secure the attendance of a certain eminent physician. Nar- 
 cissus was regarded by them as a son, and having introduced 
 me, we both experienced, in the society of these worthy 
 persons, the most delightful recreation both for mind and 
 heart, and even the ordinary amusements of society appeared 
 in this house to be less insipid than elsewhere. The relation 
 in which we stood towards each other was well known, we 
 were treated as circumstances allowed, and the most impor- 
 tant feature in our case was never alluded to. I mention 
 this acquaintance because subsequently it exerted an impor- 
 tant influence upon my life. 
 
 We had now been engaged for a year, and the spring was 
 drawing to a close. The summer came, and brought its heat 
 and dry discomfort. 
 
 Some state appointments had become vacant, to which 
 Narcissus might have laid claim. The moment was now 
 approaching which was to decide my fate; and whilst 
 Narcissus and his friends were exerting themselves earnestly 
 to remove some unfavourable impressions w T hich existed 
 against him at court, in order to secure the vacant situation, 
 I addressed my appeal to the Invisible. I was received so 
 kindly that I returned. I candidly expressed my anxiety 
 that Narcissus might obtain the place, but my prayer was 
 not importunate, and I did not beg that success might be 
 the result of my petition. 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 351 
 
 The place was obtained by a rival of far inferior preten- 
 sions. I was terrified at the news, and hastened to my 
 chamber, the door of which I locked securely behi IK! inc. 
 The first shock of grief disappeared in a flood of tears ; my 
 reflection was " it has not happened by chance/' ami 
 then followed a determination, on my part, to be resi 
 and satisfied, as this apparent evil might be intended for 
 me advantage. The softest emotions now succeeded 
 the dark clouds of sorrow were dispersed and I felt that 
 with such support, I was capable of bearing whatever might 
 happen. To the great astonishment of my companions, I 
 uded cheerfully to dinner. 
 
 Narcissus had less firmness than I possessed, and I 
 was obliged, therefore, to comfort him. He had many 
 difficulties to contend with in his own family, and as a 
 perfect confidence existed between us, he had confided them 
 all to me. His negoriations for entering into foreign service 
 were not more fortunate; I felt his disappointment keenly, 
 botfi on his account and on my own, and, in the end, I 
 carried all our difficulties to that place where my prayers 
 had already been so favourably received. 
 
 The consolations which I derived from them, were so 
 sweet, 'that I was eager to renew iny experience of them, 
 and I expected that they would always be found where 
 they had so often appeared. But comfort did not continue 
 to visit me. I resembled a man who wishes to bask in the 
 sun's rays, but cannot succeed on account of some obstacle 
 which perpetually casts a shadow. " What can the matter be?" 
 was a question which I often asked myself. Upon instituting 
 a strict inquiry, I found that it all came from the condition 
 of my soul, and observed that if it were not turned wholly 
 towards God, I remained cold and received no answer to my 
 supplications. I then asked a second question, " Whence 
 arises the obstacle ?" and this inquiry opened to me a wide 
 field, until I found myself entangled in an investigation 
 which continued even during the second year of my engage- 
 ment. I might have ended the inquiry sooner, for, before 
 long, I found a clue to the mystery, but I was uiiwillinir to 
 acknowledge it, and I had recourse to a thousand subterfuges 
 to deceive myself. 
 
 I soon perceived that the proper inclinations of my soul 
 
352 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 were impeded by senseless dissipations and unworthy pur- 
 suits the How and the "Where seemed evident enough, 
 yet I was at a loss to know by what means 1 could disen- 
 tangle myself from the claims of a world, in which every- 
 thing was marked by indifference or extravagance. I would 
 willingly have allowed matters to remain as they were, and 
 have passed a quiet life, like other people who appeared quite 
 happy, but I dared not, my conscience was averse to such 
 a course for, even if I had wished to forsake society and 
 change my mode of life, I could not do so I was confined 
 within the limits of a circle, I could not detach myself 
 from certain influences ; and, upon the question which 
 so deeply concerned me, the obligations of life oppressed 
 me more and more. Oftentimes did I retire weeping to my 
 bed, and, after a sleepless night, I rose again in tears. I 
 required some strong support, but God would not grant it 
 to me, so long as I continued to wear the cap of folly. 
 
 I proceeded now to consider attentively what had been 
 my course of life. My love for dancing and for play formed 
 the first subjects of inquiry. I examined every objection 
 which had ever been conceived, spoken, or written against 
 these amusements; I weighed and considered them all, 
 aggravating and plaguing myself upon the subject. If I 
 were willing to give them up, I felt certain that Narcissus 
 would be offended, as he had always trembled at the ridicule 
 with which the world never fails to visit conscientious per- 
 sons ; and, on the other hand, it was to me beyond measure 
 distressing to pursue my present career of folly, not from 
 any taste of my own, but for his sole gratification. It would 
 be impossible for me, without having recourse to disagreeable 
 prolixities and repetitions, to explain the trouble which I 
 took to disengage myself from those pursuits which dis- 
 turbed my peace of mind, in order that I might open my 
 heart to the influences of the Invisible; but I perceived with 
 pain that I could not attain my object by this means, for 
 the garment of folly had been to me more than a mask its 
 effects had pierced me through and through. 
 
 May I here wander a little from this historical narrative, 
 to reflect for a moment upon what was going on within my 
 mind ? How did it happen that, in my twenty-second year, 
 my habits of thought were so changed that 1 had lost all 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 353 
 
 taste for those pleasures in which so many young persons 
 find an innocent delight ? Why did I consider them to be 
 no longer innocent ? I reply, because, for me, they were 
 not innocent ; because, I was not now, like so many of my 
 equals, ignorant of the state of my soul. No ; I knew 
 from experience which had come to me unsought, that there 
 are higher emotions, which afford us a more genuine satis- 
 faction than can be found in the pleasures of the world, and 
 that these higher joys contain a secret treasure for support- 
 ing the spirit in misfortune. 
 
 But social pleasures and the dissipations of youth must 
 have possessed a peculiar charm for me, since I found it 
 impossible to feel indifferent to them. How many things 
 could I now do with perfect indifference which, at a former 
 period, would have led me astray or obtained the mastery 
 over me. There could be no middle course here, the charms 
 of pleasure or the active and salutary emotions of my soul 
 must be abandoned. 
 
 But the contest had been already decided in my own mind, 
 and that without my knowledge. Even if I had still re- 
 tained a wish to pursue earthly indulgences, I was no longer 
 able to relish them. The greatest lover of wine would lose 
 all appetite for drinking if he were placed in a well- filled 
 cellar, where the foul air threatened to suffocate him. Pure 
 air is more valuable than wine. This I felt too sensibly, 
 and with me it would have needed but little reflection to 
 prefer the good to the agreeable, if I had not been checked 
 by the fear of losing the favour of Narcissus. But at length, 
 after many an inward struggle, and much quiet reflection, 
 and many a look cast upon the bonds which united me to 
 him, I perceived that they were after all but weak, and that I 
 could easily rend them asunder. I perceived that it was but 
 a bell of glass which enclosed me within its airless space, and 
 that if I had strength enough to break it in pieces, I should 
 become free ! 
 
 I thought, and I resolved. I laid the mask aside, and 
 acted thenceforth pursuant to the dictates of my heart. I still 
 loved Narcissus dearly, but the thermometer of my affections, 
 which had stood previously in warm water, was now exposed 
 to*the natural air, and would not rise higher than the heat 
 of the surrounding atmosphere. 
 
 2 A 
 
354 witHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 Unfortunately, the latter cooled exceedingly. Narcissus 
 drew back, and assumed an air of coldness. He was at 
 liberty to do so, but my thermometer fell in proportion to 
 his reserve. My family observed the change : they ques- 
 tioned me, and expressed their astonishment. I declared 
 with firm determination that I had already made sacrifices 
 enough, that I was ready to share all his embarrassments 
 with him, even to the end of his life, but that I required 
 perfect freedom for my own actions, and that my conduct, 
 whether active or passive, must be regulated by my own 
 convictions ; that I would never obstinately insist on my 
 opinion, as I was always willing to be convinced, but since 
 my happiness was in question, I was entitled to decide 
 without being subject to any species of compulsion. The 
 arguments of the greatest physician could never force me 
 to take a single article of food, which, however agreeable it 
 might be to many, experience should prove to be injurious 
 to myself, coffee, for example, and so, I should never 
 allow a course of conduct, which might mislead myself, to be 
 recommended as morally profitable. 
 
 After a long course of silent reflections, I found discussions 
 < f this kind to be rather pleasant than otherwise. I breathed 
 freely once more, and found the full value of my determination. 
 I refused to make the least concession, and the arguments of 
 all those to whom I owed a filial duty were quickly disposed of. 
 At home I very soon had my own way. The views which I 
 entertained had been my mother's from her very youth, though 
 in her case they had never been matured, for she had been 
 subject to no necessity, nor had her resolution ever been put 
 to the test. She was pleased now to see me fulfil the wishes 
 which she had indulged in silence. My younger sister was 
 wholly on my side. My second sister was attentive, but said 
 nothing. We had the greatest difficulty with our aunt. Her 
 arguments appeared to be unanswerable, but they were alto- 
 gether common-place. At length, I was compelled to insist 
 that she should have no voice in the matter, and after this 
 we could not easily learn whether she persisted in her senti- 
 ments. She was the only person who viewed the affair 
 without being more or less affected. Without calumny, I 
 may say that she had no character, and that her ideas were 
 of the most limited nature. 
 
 My father acted upon his own convictions. He spoke 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 355 
 
 little, but frequently, with me upon the matter, but his argu- 
 ments were sound, and being his, they could not be opposed. 
 Indeed, nothing but tho fullest consciousness of my own 
 right gave me courage to dispute with him. But the scene 
 soon changed. I was compelled to appeal to his heart. 
 Overcome by his reasonings, I had recourse to the most 
 pathetic pleadings. I gave full scope to my tongue, and to 
 my tears. I proved to him how much I loved Narcissus. I 
 showed him what I had suffered for the last two years, how 
 convinced I was of being in the right, which I was ready to 
 prove by giving up my beloved bridegroom and every hope 
 of happiness, and if it were necessary, by the loss of every 
 thing that I possessed, assuring him that I would rather 
 forsake my native land and all my relatives and friends, and 
 toil for my daily bread amongst strangers, than act in oppo- 
 sition to my convictions. He concealed his emotion, remained 
 silent for some time, and at length declared himself openly 
 in my favour. 
 
 Narcissus had for some time discontinued to visit us, and 
 my father soon ceased to attend the club which the former 
 was accustomed to frequent. The whole affair was canvassed 
 publicly at court and in the town. But I was sufficiently 
 well acquainted with the world to know that our conduct 
 is often censured by the very persons who would have acted 
 in a similar way themselves, and, moreover, I was sufficiently 
 composed to be wholly indifferent to their passing observa- 
 tions. 
 
 I did not, however, seek to stifle my affection for Nar- 
 cissus. Though I saw him no more, my heart had not 
 changed in the least towards him. I still loved him tenderly, 
 as it were anew, and much more steadfastly than before. If 
 he were only satisfied not to violate my conscientious feel- 
 ings, then I was his, but without this condition, I would 
 have rejected a kingdom with him. These feelings and 
 thoughts had filled my mind for some months, and finding at 
 length that I was sufficiently calm and collected, I wrote him 
 a polite note, inquiring why he had ceased to visit me. 
 
 I was acquainted with his habit of avoiding to enter into 
 an explanation of small matters, whilst he still pursued his 
 (\vn course in silence, and therefore I insisted on receiving 
 an answer. He sent me a long and unsatisfactory r< 
 
356 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 couched in a vague style, and full of unmeaning phrases. 
 He said that until he had obtained his promotion he could 
 not offer me his hand, that I was aware of all the vexations 
 he had hitherto endured, that he feared our continued inti- 
 macy might prove injurious to my reputation, and he hoped, 
 therefore, that I would consent to his absence for a time, 
 assuring me, however, that as soon as he should find himself 
 in a condition to render me happy, he would redeem the 
 pledges he had given to me. 
 
 I replied to him upon the spot, that as our engagement was 
 known to all the world it was somewhat late to think of 
 saving my reputation, and that for this, my own conscience 
 and my own innocence were the surest guarantees, but that 
 I unhesitatingly released him from his engagement and 
 trusted he would find happiness. I received a short answer, 
 which echoed the sentiments contained in his first letter. 
 He continued to state that upon obtaining an appoint- 
 ment, he would share his good fortune with me. 
 
 This was equivalent to saying nothing. I thereupon in- 
 formed my friends and relations that the matter was at an 
 end, as in very truth it was. Nine months afterwards he 
 obtained the wished-for appointment, when he once more 
 offered me his hand, with the stipulation, that as the head 
 of his household, I should consent to alter the opinions 
 which I had expressed. I thanked him politely, and then 
 took leave of the whole transaction as a man does when he 
 leaves the theatre after the curtain has fallen. And as a 
 short time afterwards he formed a rich and advantageous 
 connection, and I knew him to be perfectly happy in his own 
 way, my peace of mind was completely restored. 
 
 I must not omit to mention, that several times before he had 
 obtained his promotion', and afterwards, I received more than 
 one favourable proposal, which, however, I unhesitatingly 
 refused, although my father and mother earnestly wished for 
 my compliance. 
 
 'And now, after a stormy March and April, I enjoyed the 
 most lovely May weather. I had excellent health, and I 
 felt an indescribable tranquillity of mind, and turn myself 
 where I would, I seemed in all respects to be a gainer. 
 Young and full of sensibility as I was, the world appearc d 
 to me a thousand times more beautiful than it had seemed 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 357 
 
 before, when I had thought society and dissipation necessary 
 to dispel the tedium of existence. And now, as I was not 
 ashamed of my religious feelings, I took courage to avow 
 my love for the arts and sciences. I drew, I painted, I read ; 
 and I found numbers of persons ready to support me. In 
 place of the great world which I had left, or rather which 
 had abandoned me, I formed a smaller society around mo, 
 which was much richer and far more interesting. I had a 
 love for social life, and I shall not deny that when I forsook 
 my former acquaintances, I trembled at the very thought of 
 solitude. But I was nmv abundantly recompensed. My 
 circle of friends soon became numerous, not only in mv own 
 neighbourhood, amongst persons whose tastes were similar to 
 my own, but even amongst strangers. My story had been 
 generally spoken of, and men were curious to see the 
 maiden, who had pri/.ed her God more than her lover. 
 Moreover, at that time a certain religious tone was observ- 
 able in Germany. In many noble families an anxiety about 
 spiritual things had been aroused, and even amongst the lower 
 classes, thoughts of the same nature very generally pre- 
 vailed. 
 
 The noble family of whom I have already spoken sought 
 my closer intimacy. Their number had lately increased, as 
 many of their relatives had joined them in the town. T 
 estimable persons sought my society as anxiously as I did 
 theirs. Their connections were amongst the highest circles, 
 and in their family I became acquainted with most of the 
 princes, nobles, and grandees of the realm. My habits of 
 thought were a secret to no one, and whether my new friends 
 respected them or not, I obtained my object and escaped all 
 controversy. 
 
 But a new course of events soon led me back into the 
 world. About this time, a step-brother of my father, who 
 had formerly only visited us occasionally, took up his abode 
 at our house. He had left the service of his court, because 
 the business there was not conducted according to his wish, 
 although he enjoyed universal honour and respect. His 
 understanding was just, and his character was firm. He 
 resembled my father in these respects, but the latter had a 
 certain degree of softness, which rendered him more liable 
 to yield in matters of business, and to permit, if not to 
 
358 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 perform, certain things against his own conviction, to which 
 he would reconcile himself in silence, or in confidential 
 intercourse with his family. My uncle was many years his 
 junior, and his mental independence was not a little strength- 
 ened by his worldly circumstances. His mother had been 
 very rich, and his expectations were considerable from her 
 near and distant relatives ; he therefore needed no stranger's 
 assistance, whilst my father's very moderate fortune bound 
 him to his place by the consideration of his salary. 
 
 Domestic unhappiness had soured my uncle's temper. 
 He had early lost a beloved wife, and a promising son ; 
 and from the time of their death he had sought to dis- 
 engage himself from all unnecessary connection with other 
 people. 
 
 It was rumoured with some degree of satisfaction in our 
 family, that in all probability he would not marry again ; 
 and that we children might therefore calculate on inheriting 
 his property. I paid no attention to this ; but the con- 
 duct of the others was influenced in no slight degree by 
 their expectations. His decision of character prevented him 
 from ever contradicting any one in conversation ; on the 
 contrary, he was accustomed to listen kindly to the opinions 
 of others, which he would seek to support and defend by 
 his own reasons and arguments. Strangers always supposed 
 that he adopted their sentiments, for his intellect was strong, 
 and he couldalways fall into another person's styleof thinking. 
 He did not succeed so happily with ine ; for as the emotions 
 of the mind generally formed the subject of our discourse, 
 and he had not the smallest idea of their nature, it mattered 
 little that he spoke with sympathy and toleration of my 
 sentiments, since it was clear that he could not in the least 
 comprehend the motives of my conduct. 
 
 In spite of his reserve, we soon learned the secret of his 
 protracted residence amongst us. We discovered in the 
 sequel that he had taken a fancy to my youngest sister, 
 and that he wished to have her married and made happy 
 according to a plan of his own ; and her mental and personal 
 accomplishments were such, that coupled with the prospect 
 of a handsome fortune, she might aspire to forming the 
 highest connection. Before long he displayed the opinion 
 which he entertained of me, by procuring for me an appoint- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 359 
 
 ment of Canoness, the income of which I soon commenced to 
 receive. 
 
 My sister had less reason to be satisfied with his patronage. 
 She now disclosed to me a little secret of her affections, which 
 she had hitherto prudently concealed, fearing that I might use 
 my influence with her, to oppose a match of which I could not 
 but disapprove. I exerted myself and succeeded. My uncle's 
 intentions were too evident and too important, and the 
 prospects of my sister, with her worldly ideas, possessed 
 stronger allurements for her, than a passion of which her 
 judgment disapproved. 
 
 As soon as she had yielded to the gentle guidance of my 
 uncle, the foundation of his plan was speedily laid. She 
 was appointed Maid of Honour at a neighbouring court, 
 where she was committed to the superintendence and in- 
 structions of a lady, who filled the situation of governess 
 vith great applause. I accompanied her to her new resi- 
 dence, and we were proud of the reception which we then 
 received ; and frequently I was unable to restrain a smile at 
 the part which as Canoness, as a young and pious Canoness, 
 I was henceforth to play in the world. 
 
 Formerly the character, which I was now called upon to fill, 
 would have been enough to confound me, nay, would probably 
 have turned my head; but, now, I was quite calm, amid 
 ill the excitement by which I was surrounded. For a 
 couple of hours I allowed myself to be curled and dressed, 
 and thought no more of the matter, than that I was required 
 by my situation to assume a gay attire. I addressed every 
 one whom I met in the well-fitted rooms of the palace, 
 although no individual produced the least impression upon 
 me. Upon my return home I had no recollection than that 
 of extreme fatigue. Nevertheless I learned much from the 
 crowds with whom I came in contact. I also became ac- 
 quainted with many ladies, who excelled in every virtue, and 
 whose conduct was noble and irreproachable. Amongst 
 them was the governess, by whom the character and manners 
 of my sister were to be matured. 
 
 I found, upon my return home, that the result of this 
 journey was not favourable to my health. Notwithstanding 
 my extreme temperance and the strictest attention to diet, 
 I was mistress neither of my time nor of my strength. My 
 
360 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 food 'and exercise, my hours for rising and retiring, for 
 dressing and visiting, did not depend, as at home, upon my 
 own will and inclination. In the circle of society one dares 
 not pause without an infringement of decorum, and I dis- 
 charged every necessary duty, from a conscientious motive, 
 because that I knew that it would be soon over ; and because 
 I felt myself in perfect health. But nevertheless my new 
 and restless mode of life must have affected me in an un- 
 usual manner, for scarcely had I reached home, and gratified 
 my parents with a satisfactory account of my doings, than 
 I was seized with illness, which, though not of a dangerous 
 nature, reduced me to a state of deplorable weakness. 
 
 And now I had a new lesson to learn. I learnt it wil- 
 lingly. I felt no attachment to the world, as I was con- 
 vinced that no real good was to be found there, and this 
 conviction rendered me tranquil and happy. Nevertheless I 
 was retained in existence, although I had long since aban- 
 doned every wish to survive. 
 
 But a further trial was in store for ine. My mother was 
 attacked by a painful sickness, which she had to endure for 
 five long years, before she paid the debt of nature. During 
 this time our Bufferings were severe. Frequently when she 
 became alarmed, she would summon us all to her bed-side in 
 the night-time, in order that she might be comforted, and 
 encouraged by our presence. 
 
 At length the load became oppressive, and, in truth, intoler- 
 able, when my father also began to suffer. From his earliest 
 youth he had been subject to the most violent headaches, 
 wlii oh, however, had never continued longer than six-and- 
 thirty hours. But now they were incessant ; and when they 
 became excessive, his sufferings rent my very heart asunder. 
 During these hours of trial, I was most sensible of my 
 bodily infirmity, because it forbad the fulfilment of the 
 holiest, the dearest duties, or rendered their discharge in the 
 highest degree difficult. 
 
 I had now the full means of ascertaining, whether the 
 path of life, which I had selected, was the way of phantasy 
 or of truth ; whether the object of my faith possessed a 
 reality ; and to my great support I always felt encouraged to 
 persevere. The entire devotion of my heart to Gk>d my com- 
 panionship with his beloved saints rendered every difficulty 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 361 
 
 light and supportable. As a traveller in the dark, when I 
 felt the violence of outward pressure, I flew to the place of 
 refuge, and never returned without experiencing relief. 
 
 Certain champions of religion, who possess more zeal than 
 experience of its influence, have sometimes required the 
 faithful to furnish a distinct proof, that earthly prayers have 
 been actually heard in Heaven, wishing no doubt to be pro- 
 vided with seal and signature that they might institute legal 
 and diplomatic proceedings. But how unacquainted must 
 these persons be with the genuine feelings of religion ! How 
 worthless their experience of its effects ! 
 
 I may safely say, that whenever I have sought the aid of 
 Heaven in moments of distress and sorrow, I have never 
 failed to find relief. This is much to say, and I dare not 
 add more. For though my experience of the divine mercy 
 has been of infinite importance to myself at the time of its 
 occurrence, the detail would be insipid, and perhaps dis- 
 believed, were I to specify individual cases. I felt happy, 
 that a thousand trifling circumstances combined, proved to 
 me as clearly as my own breathing established my existence, 
 that I was not without Grod in the world. He was at my 
 side I was in his presence. This much I can assert, even 
 though lemploy no technical theological terms for the purpose. 
 
 How sincerely do I wish that I had been at that time free 
 from the restraints of system. But which of us can easily 
 attain the happiness of being conscious of his own particular 
 individuality, unmingled with extraneous forms ? I was in 
 earnest about my happiness. I consulted the opinions of 
 others with reluctance, and I adopted finally the Hallean 
 principle of conversion, though my natural feelings were not 
 wholly in harmony with it. 
 
 According to this plan, a change of heart must begin with 
 a deep alarm at our past sinful life ; the heart in its tribula- 
 tion must be fully conscious of the punishment which it has 
 deserved, thus acquiring a foretaste of the pains of hell, 
 which embitters all the alluring charms of sin. At length 
 we become conscious of a positive assurance of forgiveness, 
 though this impression may subsequently fade away, and 
 must be renewed again by earnest prayer. 
 
 But this was not my case. When I sought God sincerely, 
 he condescended to visit me, and did not reproach me for 
 
362 WILHELM METSTEE'S 
 
 my past life. And, though upon taking a retrospect of 
 bygone days, I felt conscious of my own deep continued 
 unworthiness ; yet I could confess my sins without being 
 overcome by terror. I did not tremble at the fear of hell, 
 nor did my thoughts dwell upon the idea of an evil spirit, 
 or upon a place of punishment and torment after death. It 
 seemed to me that those men who lived without God in the 
 world, who closed their hearts against all love, and trust in the 
 Invisible, were already so-unhappy, that a hell and sensible 
 pains would rather alleviate, than increase their misery. 
 And when I observed those persons, who nourish revengeful 
 feelings within their bosoms, who harden their hearts against 
 every species of good, and subject themselves and others to 
 the influence of evil, who close their eyes in the open day- 
 light, that they may be able to deny the brilliancy of the 
 sun, how utterly wretched did they appear to me ! "What 
 hell could render their condition worse ? 
 
 I continued in this state of mind for a period of ten years. 
 It endured through many trials, and even survived the painful 
 (Irath-bed of my beloved mother. I was unreserved enough 
 upon that occasion, to afford evidence of my happy mental 
 condition in the presence of certain pious and orthodox 
 people ; and I had, on that account, to suffer many a 
 irirndly reproof. They seized the opportunity to remind 
 mo with what earnestness we ought to lay a good foundation 
 whilst our health continues. 
 
 And I was resolutely determined to succeed. I yielded 
 to their views for the moment; and I would gladly have 
 passed my life in tears and terror. But, to my surprise, 1 
 found that this was impossible. When I turned my thoughts 
 to God, I at once became cheerful and happy ; and even the 
 remembrance of my dear mother's painful death did not 
 make me shudder at the thought of dissolution. But in 
 those solemn hours I learned many other things, to which 
 my gratuitous instructors were themselves strangers. 
 
 By degrees I began to doubt the correctness of the re- 
 ligious views adopted by these celebrated people ; and I 
 maintained my own sentiments in silence. A certain lady, 
 to whom I had already disclosed too much, interfered per- 
 petually with me, until I was compelled to rid myself of her. 
 I was obliged, upon one occasion, to tell her in a decisive tone, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 3GS 
 
 that she must spare her unnecessary labour, as I did not 
 stand in need of her advice, that I trusted in G-od, and would 
 have no guide but Him. She was highly incensed ; and I 
 believe has never forgiven me to this day. 
 
 This resolution to dispense with the advice and assistance 
 of my friends in spiritual affairs, encouraged me to follow 
 my own guidance in temporal matters. But I could not 
 have been successful without the aid of my Invisible Guide, 
 and I cannot conceal my astonishment at the wise and 
 fortunate inspirations with which I was favoured. No 
 person knew how I was circumstanced, I myself was scarcely 
 conscious of my own condition. 
 
 That thing, that evil and inexplicable thing, which separates 
 us from the Being to whom we are indebted for our "exis- 
 tence, from that Being who supports within us all that 
 merits the name of life, that evil which we call Sin was 
 wholly unknown to me. 
 
 Mv intercourse with the Invisible secured to me the 
 sweetest enjoyments of all my mental and bodily powers. 
 My anxiety to render this happiness perpetual became 
 so great that I willingly abandoned every thing by which 
 it might be impaired, and here experience proved my most 
 unerring instructor. But I resembled an invalid, who for 
 want of medicine, endeavours to find relief in diet. Some- 
 thing is effected but not enough. I was unable to live in 
 perpetual solitude, although I found in such a state the 
 best security against the dissipation of my thoughts. But 
 when I returned to active life, I felt the strong impression 
 which had been produced upon me by the change. It was a 
 great advantage to me that my love for quiet was so over- 
 powering, and I always turned insensibly to that mode of 
 existence. I had a dim twilight perception of my misery 
 and weakness, and I sought to save myself by avoiding 
 unnecessary exposure. 
 
 For seven years I obeyed the dictates of my own sugges- 
 tions. In my own estimation I was not wicked, and I even 
 thought my condition enviable. But for some peculiar circum- 
 stances, I should have continued to be of this opinion ; a 
 remarkable occurrence however induced me to follow a new 
 course of conduct. Contrary to the advice of all my friends, 
 I formed another connection, and though their objections 
 
3(34 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 caused me to hesitate at first, I sought advice from my In- 
 visible Guide, and as he offered no objection, I advanced 
 without apprehension. 
 
 An intellectual, kind and talented personage had purchased 
 some property in our neighbourhood. He and his family 
 became intimate with my friends, and as in our manners, 
 habits and domestic arrangements, we closely resembled 
 each other, the acquaintance which we formed soon ripened 
 into friendship. 
 
 Philo, for by that name I shall designate him, was of 
 mature age, and in the transaction of certain matters of 
 business, he had already proved of great assistance to my 
 father, whose strength was now decaying visibly. He soon 
 became intimate with our family, and as he frequently stated 
 that he found in me, a person free alike from the extravagance 
 and insipidity of the great world, and from the closeness and 
 illiberality which is occasioned by a life of retirement, he 
 sought my intimacy, and before long he succeeded in winning 
 my confidence. I found him an agreeable and useful friend. 
 
 Although I had not the least talent or taste for general 
 business, nor any wish to mingle in its concerns, I liked to 
 hear of public occurrences, and to know what happened far 
 and near. I was anxious to possess a clear though calm 
 perception of worldly things, whilst I reserved my feelings, 
 my sympathies, and attachments for my God, my family and 
 my friends. 
 
 I must admit that the latter were jealous of the new 
 acquaintance which I had formed, and for more reasons than 
 one they were right in warning me against it. I suffered 
 much in private, for I could not consider their apprehension 
 as altogether groundless or selfish. I had always been 
 accustomed to examine and to justify my conduct, but in 
 this case I could not conquer my convictions, I prayed to 
 God that he would warn, .restrain and guide me, and as I 
 had the approval of my own heart, I pursued my course with 
 comfort. 
 
 Upon the whole, there was some distant resemblance 
 between Philo and Narcissus, but the pious education of the 
 former rendered his feelings more active and concentrated. 
 He possessed less vanity and more character than the latter, 
 and if Narcissus in worldly matters was precise, exact, per- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 365 
 
 severing, and unwearied, Philo on the other hand was c 
 prompt, quick, and able to work with incredible ease. 
 From him 1 learned the private history of almost every 
 distinguished person with whom I had become acquainted 
 in society, and I took pleasure in observing the com 
 their career from my watch tower from afar. He could 
 
 :d i loll ling from me. By degrees he confided to me 
 all his inward emotions, and informed me of his outward 
 ciivumstaner;. 1 trembled on his account, as I foiv-aw 
 
 n conditions and entanglements that must ensue, and 
 the evil came sooner than I had reason to eipect. He had 
 always withheld certain confessions from me, and even at last 
 he only unfolded sufficient of them to enable me to guess 
 the worst. 
 
 "What an effect this produced upon my heart ? I acquired 
 
 e\j>eiit!i r which was wholly ncv. With indescrib- 
 
 I saw before me an Agathon who had been brought 
 
 np within the groves of Delphi, but who still owed his edu- 
 
 . a debt which he was now discharging with heavy 
 
 interest ; and this Agathon was my firmly attached friend. 
 
 My sympathy was warm and complete. I suffered with 
 
 him, and we Doth found ourselves strangely circumstanced. 
 
 Having employed myself long in reflecting upon the 
 qualities of his mind, I at length turned to the consideration 
 of my own. The reflection that I was really no better than 
 he, rose like a little cloud before me, and gradually expanded 
 until it enveloped my whole soul in darkness. 
 
 My apprehension upon this point soon amounted to 
 conviction, and my feelings became so painfcil that 1 should 
 not like again to experience them. And this was no pas- i UK 
 impression. For more than a year I felt that if some invisi- 
 ble hand had not withheld me, I might have become a 
 Cartouche, a Girard, a Damiens, or any other monster. I 
 
 tie inclination for crime too plainly within my heart, 
 and the discovery made me tremble. 
 
 experience had never previously convinced me of the 
 
 really existed within my breast, its possibility 
 
 illy apparent. It is true that I was not 
 
 acquainted with evil, I only feared it I felt that guilt was 
 
 Me for me, although there was in reality nothing of 
 which I could be accused. 
 
366 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 Although my conviction was deep that in such a condition 
 of my soul I could never become fitted for that union with the 
 Eternal which I hoped to enjoy after death, I had no appre- 
 hension of a final separation from Him. I loved Him, not- 
 withstanding all the evil which I had discovered within myself, 
 but I hated what I felt, and wished to hate it still more strong- 
 ly; my whole wish was to be freed from this infirmity this 
 tendency to evil, and I knew that the great Physician would 
 not withhold his assistance. 
 
 The only question now was what remedy would cure the 
 malady ? The practice of virtue. Of this I could not for a 
 moment be persuaded, since for ten long years I had been 
 unwearied in the practice of something more than virtue, and 
 during all that period the horrors which I now observed had 
 lain concealed within my soul. Might they not suddenly 
 have burst forth as occurred with Pavid when he saw Bath- 
 sheba and was not he also a friend of God, and did I not 
 feel thoroughly convinced that God was my friend ? 
 
 Is sin then to be considered as an unavoidable weakness 
 of human nature ? Must we satisfy ourselves with feeling 
 and acknowledging the predominance of our passions, and in 
 spite of our best resolutions have we no alternative than to 
 detect the crime which we have committed, and repeat it 
 again when a similar temptation occurs ? 
 
 The teachings of morality afforded me no consolation. 
 Neither their severe rules which seek to subdue our passions, 
 nor their mild regulations which would enlist our inclina- 
 tions on the side of virtue, could content me. The principles 
 which I had learned from the intercourse with my Invisible 
 Guide possessed for me a far more sterling value. 
 
 When, upon one occasion, I was engaged in studying the 
 Psalms which David composed after his dreadful fall, it 
 seemed to me that he had perceived the evil which dwelt 
 within him to exist in the very substance out of which his 
 nature was formed, and yet he wished to be freed from this 
 slavery of sin, and earnestly prayed for purity of heart. 
 
 But how was this to be obtained ? I was well aware of 
 the answers which the Scriptures afford, and it was for me a 
 Bible truth that " the blood of Jesus clean seth from all 
 sin." But I soon perceived that as yet I had never under- 
 stood this oft repeated saying. The question " "What does 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 367 
 
 that mean? how is it to happen?" agitated me day and 
 night. At length, I thought I perceived, as by a slimmer- 
 iiiLT H^ht, that the object of my search was to be discovered 
 in the incarnation of the Eternal "Word, by whom we and 
 thing had been created. That the everlasting God 
 descended into the depths whieh we inhabit, and dwelt 
 amongst us, that he sees and understands all things, that he 
 passed through every alternation of our condition, from his 
 conception and birth, to the grave, and that by this wo 
 ful course he ascended once more to those blessed lit i 
 which we also must attain, in order to be happy, all this 
 was revealed to me, though in a dim and indistinct manner. 
 
 But why. in order to understand sueh things, mis- 
 employ figures whieh can only express exterior situations ? 
 \Vhat object can be either high or deep, dark or bright in 
 Sil ryes : \V r e alone possess an under and an above, a day 
 and a night, and therefore was it that He became like unto 
 us, because otherwise we could have no part in Him. 
 
 But how can we participate in this invaluable benetit ? 
 " By faith," the holy Scripture replies. And what is faith Y 
 To believe the relation of an event as true. How can 
 that assist me ? I must become imbued with its effects, 
 its consequences ; and this appropriating faith must be a 
 peculiar condition of the mind, to which the natural man is 
 unaccustomed. 
 
 " And now, Almighty ! grant me faith !" I prayed in the 
 deepest anguish of my heart. I bent my head down upon 
 a small table before which I sat, and I buried my tear- 
 stained face within my hands. I was now in that condition 
 in which every man must be, if he expects that God will 
 i to his prayers, a condition in which, alas ! we seldom 
 find ourselves. 
 
 O that I could but describe my feelings at that moment. 
 A sudden attraction brought my soul to the foot of the 
 cross upon which Jesus died; it was an inward const; 
 I cannot describe it by any other expression, it resembled 
 impulse which attracts our soul to an absent lover, by 
 in invisible contact which is perhaps more true and real 
 we suppose. Thus was my soul brought near to th< 
 
 A ho (lied upon the cross, and in the same moment 
 I recognized what i'aith really was. 
 
368 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 "This is faith," I exclaimed, and I sprang half terrified 
 to niy feet. I sought to assure myself of my feelings, of my 
 senses, and I now became convinced that my spirit had 
 acquired a capability of soaring to heaven, which it had 
 never possessed before. 
 
 Words cannot describe my sensations. I could distinguish 
 them wholly from every resemblance to imagination. They 
 had no connection with fancy or with figure. They 
 brought before me the actuality of some object, which the 
 mind sees when it paints the features of an absent lover. 
 
 When the first feeling of delight had subsided, I saw that 
 I had at other times experienced this condition of the soul, 
 but I had never felt it so forcibly as at present. I had 
 never retained it, nor made it my own. I believe that every 
 man has experienced this at one time or another. Doubt- 
 less, it is this sensation which teaches us that there is a 
 God. 
 
 I had previously been satisfied with my occasional expe- 
 riences of this influence, and if an unexpected sorrow had 
 not unhappily afflicted me for a year, beyond my ability and 
 strength to bear, I might, perhaps, have been for ever con- 
 tent to remain in this condition. 
 
 But now, since that exalted moment, I had, as it were, 
 acquired wings. I could soar aloft, above all obstacles, as a 
 bird can fly singing, and with ease, across the swiftest stream, 
 which a dog, with all its barking, is unable to pass. 
 
 My joy was unspeakable, and though I explained the 
 circumstances to no one, my friends observed an unwonted 
 cheerfulness in my demeanour, for which they could not 
 account. If I had only remained silent and sought to 
 preserve the pure feelings of my soul, if I had not per- 
 mitted myself to be betrayed by circumstances to reveal 
 my secret I should have escaped an infinity of pain. 
 
 During the previous ten years of my Christian career, my 
 soul had not possessed its necessary powers, and I resembled 
 the greater part of other worthy people. I had been accus- 
 tomed to store my fancy with images which bore some refe- 
 rence to G-od, and in trutn this course was not wholly un- 
 productive of benefit to me. They seemed to exclude all 
 injurious impressions, as well as evil effects, and fre- 
 quently my soul, seizing one or other of these spiritual 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 369 
 
 images, soared aloft like a young bird fluttering from bough 
 to bough. And, therefore, in default of better advantages, 
 this practice should not be hastily condemned. 
 
 The institutions of the Church provide us with an abun- 
 dance of ideas and impressions, which direct the soul to 
 God, such as organs, bells, hymns, and, above all, the ser- 
 mons of our pastors. To all these things, I was especially 
 devoted. No unfavourable weather, no bodily indisposition 
 could prevent my attendance at church, and whenever 1 was 
 confined to bed by illness, the sound of the church bells was 
 the only thing that rendered me impatient. I always 
 attended the instructions of the Court chaplain with the 
 :est delight, was pleased with his assistants, and I 
 could select the golden apples of God's word from the com- 
 mon fruit with which it was often mingled. Private devo- 
 tions of various kinds were combined with the public prayers, 
 and these nourished my spiritual fancies and improved my 
 finer sensibilities. I soon became so accustomed to these 
 pursuits and felt so high a degree of reverence for them, 
 that even now I can conceive no idea more exalted. For 
 my soul has no eyes it is all sensibility it feels, but does 
 not see. O, that it could acquire the power of sight, and 
 would dare to look forward ! 
 
 I continued to attend sermons with a mind full of desire 
 and anxiety, but, alas ! they had ceased to furnish me with 
 the same exalted pleasure as formerly. The preachers 
 seemed to be engaged with the shell of the fruit, whilst I 
 was enjoying the kernel. I soon became weary of them. 
 They could offer me nothing, which I could not find with- 
 out their assistance. I required food for my imagination. 
 I wanted impressions from without, and thought that the 
 craving which I felt was of the purest spiritual nature. 
 
 Philo's relations had been connected with the Herrn- 
 huthers, and his library contained several works which had 
 been written by the Count who had founded the society, 
 He had frequently conversed with me upon the subject, in the 
 most unreserved manner, and had invited me to look through 
 some of those treatises, if it were only as a psychological 
 study, as I am far from considering the Count and his ad- 
 herents to be orthodox, and therefore I had not read thr 
 Ebersdorf hymn book which my friend had pressed upon inc. 
 
 2 B 
 
370 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 But in my absolute want of all outward sources of ex- 
 citement, I accidentally took up that hymn book, and, to my 
 surprise, I found that it contained some compositions, 
 which, under a strange form, appeared to furnish all that I 
 desired. I was attracted by the originality and simplicity 
 of their style. Peculiar emotions were expressed in an 
 unusual manner, and there were no technical expressions to 
 suggest formal or common-place ideas. I was convinced 
 that these people felt as I did, and I found extreme delight 
 in learning some of their hymns by heart and repeating 
 them for several days in succession. 
 
 Three months had passed away in this manner from the 
 moment when I had received the gift of truth. At length I 
 formed the resolution of imparting every thing to my friend 
 Philo, and of asking him to lend me those writings which I 
 had now become extremely curious to read and I did so, 
 notwithstanding the secret reluctance of my heart. 
 
 I told him my whole story in detail, and, as he was one 
 of the chief persons who figured in my narrative, which 
 conveyed a sort of rebuke to himself, he was in the highest 
 degree excited and affected. He burst into tears. I felt 
 delighted, and believed that he had undergone a total change 
 of mind. 
 
 He gave me all the writings that I could require, and my 
 imagination was now provided with an excess of nourish- 
 ment. I made rapid progress in the Zinzendorf style of 
 thinking and of speaking. But it must not be supposed 
 that I do not properly appreciate the merits of the Count. 
 I am anxious to do him justice. He is no empty dreamer. 
 He announces mighty truths in the boldest figurative style, 
 and those by whom he is condemned, can neither value nor 
 distinguish his high acquirements. 
 
 My attachment for him became extreme. Had I been 
 independent, I should have abandoned my country and my 
 friends in order to join him. We should, undoubtedly, 
 have understood each other, though probably we should not 
 have continued long together. 
 
 I felt grateful to my good genius that my time was so 
 completely absorbed in household occupations. I considered 
 that I made a long journey when I visited the garden. The 
 care of my aged and infirm parent provided me with em- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 371 
 
 ploy men t enough, and I could always find amusement in 
 the resources of my own imagination. Philo was the only 
 being whom I saw, my father valued him highly, but his 
 attachment for me had suffered a little from our late expla- 
 nation. It had not produced a very deep impression upon 
 him, and as he was not successful in some efforts which he 
 made to converse in my dialect, he avoided repeating the 
 attempt, particularly as his extensive acquirements always 
 provided him with sufficient topics of conversation. 
 
 Thus I had voluntarily become a member of the Society of 
 Herrnhuthers, but I found it necessary to conceal from my 
 clergyman this new inclination of my mind. I esteemed 
 him highly as my confessor, and even his strong aversion to 
 the Herrnhuthers could not impair my opinion of his merits. 
 Unfortunately this worthy man had to endure many troubles 
 on my account and on that of others. 
 
 Several years 'previously he had become acquainted with 
 a gentleman of piety and learning, and he had entered into 
 a correspondence with him, as with a person who was in 
 earnest search of God. It would be aifficult to describe 
 the pain which he suffered when this gentleman subsequently 
 joined the community to which I allude, or to express his 
 delight, when, at length, a misunderstanding ensued which 
 caused him to forsake the brethren and to take up his 
 abode in our neighbourhood. He seemed once more to 
 abandon himself completely to the guidance of his former 
 friend. 
 
 The stranger was now triumphantly introduced to all the 
 dear lambs of the pastor's flock. He was not, however, 
 presented to us, as my father had given up entertaining 
 company, but in every other quarter he was received with 
 approbation. He united the refinement of the Count with 
 the attractive manners of the society which he had left, and 
 as he possessed many fine natural qualities, he soon became 
 the favourite saint of all who knew him a result which 
 highly pleased the clergyman. But, unfortunately, this 
 gentleman only differed from the Herrnhuthers in external 
 matters, in heart and soul he was altogether one of the 
 community. He felt a deep interest in the reality of the 
 system, and yet the ceremonials which had been introduced 
 by the Count were quite in accordance with his taste, He 
 
372 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 had become accustomed to their style of thinking and of 
 speaking, and if he concealed all this carefully from his 
 former friend, he found it the more necessary, whenever he 
 met with a collection of his trusty associates, to introduce his 
 hymns, his litanies, and little figures, in all of which, as we 
 may easily suppose, he met with the greatest applause. 
 
 I was ignorant of the whole affair, and pursued my own 
 separate course. For a considerable time we were unknown 
 to each other. 
 
 Once during a leisure hour I paid a visit to an invalid 
 friend. I found several acquaintances with her, and as I soon 
 observed that I had interrupted their conversation, I affected 
 to pay no attention to what had occurred, and, before long, 
 to my great surprise, I saw some favourite pictures of 
 the Herrnhuthers hanging from the wall in elegant frames. 
 I quickly understood what had taken place previous to my 
 arrival, and I -expressed my pleasure by repeating some 
 appropriate verses. 
 
 Judge of the astonishment of my friends. "We mutually 
 explained ourselves and were admitted into each other's 
 confidence. 
 
 Henceforth I sought occasion to absent myself from home 
 more frequently. But, unfortunately, this could only happen 
 once in three or four weeks, and yet, during this time, I be- 
 came well acquainted with the new apostle and with the whole 
 community. I attended their meetings upon every oppor- 
 tunity, and my social disposition made it quite delightful to 
 communicate with others, and to hear them express senti- 
 ments which, up to this period, I had only ventured to 
 entertain in secret. But I was not so wholly absorbed 
 with my friends as not to perceive that few of them really 
 felt the sense of those affecting words and emblems, and 
 that they derived as little advantage from them, as they had 
 formerly done from the symbolical language of the Church. 
 Notwithstanding this, I continued my intercourse with 
 them without allowing myself to be disturbed. 1 felt that 
 it was not my mission to search and examine their hearts. 
 Our intercourse was not without profit to me, and in con- 
 versing with them I dwelt with much force upon the sense 
 and spirit of everything which, in matters of so much 
 delicacy, mere words serve rather to disguise than to ex- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 373 
 
 
 
 plain, and, in all other respects, I allowed every one to act 
 in conformity with his own silent convictions. 
 
 These quiet periods of social pleasure were succeeded by 
 a stormy season of public disputes and open contradictions. 
 Great commotion ensued in the town and in the court, and 
 I may even say, that great scandal was thereby occasioned. 
 And now came the moment when our clergyman that un- 
 compromising opponent of the Herrnhuther Society 
 discovered to his deep, but, I must say, edifying humiliation, 
 that the best and most exemplary portion of his congrega- 
 tion had been attracted by the novel doctrines. He was, 
 at first, distressed beyond measure, forgot all moderation, 
 and behaved in such a way that, had he afterwards desired 
 it, he could not possibly retract. Angry discussion ensued, 
 in which, fortunately, my name was never mentioned, 
 inasmuch as I had only accidentally become a member of 
 the community, and our zealous leader could not dispense 
 with the assistance of my father and my friend in the per- 
 formance of certain civic duties. To my secret delight, I 
 therefore maintained my neutrality with my friends. It 
 was painful to converse about certain feelings and objects 
 of which they could not understand the hidden meaning, 
 but it seemed to me altogether useless and even pernicious 
 to contend with opponents about matters which could, with 
 difficulty, be made intelligible evert to our friends ; for I soon 
 saw that many amiable men who, in the present state of 
 things, could not close their hearts to hatreds and ill will 
 soon became absolutely unjust, and abandoned their practical 
 duties for the maintenance and preservation of mere out- , 
 ward forms. 
 
 Although the worthy clergyman might be wrong in the 
 present instance, and, notwithstanding the efforts of my 
 friends to provoke me against him, I could not refuse him 
 my sincere respect. I knew him well, and I could easily 
 understand his mode of viewing such things. All men 
 possess certain infirmities of disposition, but these weak- 
 nesses are more perceptible in persons of exalted station. 
 "We could wish that men who are so highly privileged should 
 be free from the necessity of paying taxes and tributes. I 
 honoured him as an excellent man, and hoped by the in- 
 fluence of silent neutrality, to effect a peace, or, at all events, 
 
374 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 a truce. Perhaps my exertions might have proved finally 
 successful, but G-od removed the difficulty by taking the 
 clergyman to Himself, and all those persons shed tears over 
 his grave who had lately contended with him about mere 
 words. No one had ever doubted his justice or his fear of 
 God. 
 
 I determined about this time to abandon this religious 
 trifling, as the animosities which had lately arisen caused me 
 to see things in a different point of view. Our uncle's plans in 
 relation to my sister had been silently completed. He intro- 
 duced to her a youth of rank and fortune as her future hus- 
 band, and the rich dower which he proposed to settle upon her, 
 afforded some evidence of the sincerity of his attachment. 
 My father gladly gave his consent. My sister was free and 
 not wholly inexperienced, and, as she evinced no reluctance 
 to change her condition, the ceremony was appointed to take 
 place at my uncle's castle ; the family and friends were all 
 invited, and they attended in the highest spirits. 
 
 For the first time in my life my entrance into a house 
 excited my astonishment. It is true that I had often heard 
 the highest encomiums passed upon my uncle's taste, as 
 well as upon his Italian architect, his costly museum and 
 extensive library, but as I had only compared these things 
 with what I had already seen, the impression in my mind 
 was but vague and indistinct. I was surprised, therefore, 
 at the solemn and harmonious effect which was produced 
 upon me as I entered my uncle's house, and which was 
 deepened by the appearance of every room and corridor. 
 In other places pomp and decoration had only distracted my 
 attention, but here I felt that all my mental faculties were 
 collected and concentrated together. And so all these 
 preparations for festivals and ceremonials awakened within 
 me a secret pleasure, from the dignity and splendour by 
 which I was surrounded, and it seemed to me as incompre- 
 hensible that one individual could have invented and ar- 
 ranged all this, as that a number of persons could have 
 combined to work together in so exalted a spirit. And yet 
 the host and his family and dependents were perfectly 
 natural in their conduct, there was no trace of stiffness or 
 of empty ceremony to be observed. 
 
 The marriage was conducted in a delightful manner. We 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 375 
 
 
 
 were at first charmed and surprised by some exquisite and 
 unexpected singing, and the clergyman performed the 
 ceremony with all the earnestness of truth. I was standing 
 close to Philo, but instead of congratulating me, he whispered 
 to me with a deep sigh, " When I saw your sister give away 
 her hand I felt as if I had been scalded with boiling water." 
 " Why so ?" I inquired. " I always experience this sensa- 
 tion," he replied, "upon witnessing a marriage ceremony." 
 I smiled, but I have had occasion since to recollect his 
 words. 
 
 The mirth of the company, amongst whom were many 
 young people, was the more remarkable as in other respects 
 the entertainment was serious and dignified. The furniture, 
 the china, the plate, and ornaments were all in perfect 
 harmony, and if the provider and the architect seemed to 
 h:i\v emanated from the same school, it would appear in the 
 present instance that the butler had derived some advantage 
 from their instructions. 
 
 As we did not separate for several days, our intelligent 
 host had provided, in various ways, for the entertainment of 
 his guests. I did not upon the present occasion renew 
 my experience of the wretched manner in which mixed com- 
 pany is generally entertained when they are thrown upon 
 their own resources, or of the common and vapid amusements 
 to which upon such occasions they have recourse, as if the 
 dull guests were to be amused at the expense of theintelligent. 
 
 My uncle's arrangements were upon a different plan. He 
 had appointed two or three stewards, if I may use the 
 expression, to whom was entrusted the charge of providing 
 amusement for the young people. They superintended the 
 dances, the excursions, and the small games ; and as the 
 guests seemed partial to the open air, and did not fear the 
 cold, the garden and the large hall had been allotted to them, 
 in which some pavilions and galleries had been erected in a 
 temporary manner, but in such noble and elegant proportions 
 that they seemed to be constructed of stone and marble. 
 
 How rarely does a fete occur in which the host feels that it 
 is incumbent upon him to provide his guests with every species 
 of accommodation and entertainment. In the present instance 
 the amusements had all been previously arranged. Hunting 
 and card parties had been projected, agreeable promenades 
 
376 "WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 laid out, and opportunities provided for confidential inter- 
 course amongst the elder guests. And those who were 
 accustomed to retire at an early hour to rest found their 
 quarters situated at a distance from all noise and disturbance. 
 By this fortunate management our habitation quite 
 resembled a little world, and yet the castle was but small, 
 and nothing but a perfect knowledge of its capabilities, 
 coupled with the intelligent spirit of the owner, could have 
 enabled him to furnish such admirable accommodation for 
 so many guests. 
 
 If the appearance of a graceful person affords pleasure, so 
 also does the aspect of a well conducted establishment, where 
 the presence of a rational and intelligent mind is plainly 
 perceptible. "We experience a feeling of joy upon entering 
 a cleanly house, even though in its structure and decorations 
 there may be a total absence of taste, because it proves that 
 a person is present whose mind, in at least one sense, is 
 cultivated. But our pleasure is doubled when from a human 
 dwelling we are addressed by the spirit of a higher culture, 
 even though it be of a sensual nature. 
 
 I became strongly sensible of all this upon visiting my 
 uncle's castle. I had become acquainted with art, both by 
 reading and conversation. Philo moreover was fond of 
 pictures, of which he had a large collection, and I had myself 
 frequently practised drawing, but I had been too deeply 
 engaged with my own emotions, to feel any great relish for 
 pursuits which bore no relation to the one thing needful, 
 and all things which I now beheld appeared to me in the 
 light of worldly matters, calculated to distract my thoughts. 
 But now, for the first time, I was led by the contemplation 
 of outward objects, to cast a look upon my own condition, 
 and to my great astonishment I learned to understand the 
 difference between the natural melody of the nightingale's 
 song, and the effect of an hallelujah composed for four voices, 
 and chanted by the expressive organs of men. 
 
 I did not conceal my satisfaction from my uncle, upon making 
 this discovery, as he was accustomed, when the rest of the 
 company were fully engaged, to enter into conversation with 
 me. He evinced great modesty in speaking of whatever he 
 possessed or had produced, but he spoke with decision of the 
 judgment with which the various objects had been selected 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 377 
 
 and arranged. I could not help observing that he addressed 
 me with forbearance, seeming, according to his usual custom, 
 to value his own merits far below their deserts. 
 
 " If we could only believe it possible," he said to me upon 
 one occasion, " that the Creator of the world once assumed 
 the nature of his creature, and in that form passed some 
 time upon this earth, that creature must appear to us of 
 infinite perfection, with whom our Maker could become so 
 intimately united. Hence our idea of man cannot be incon- 
 sistent with our idea of God, and if we sometimes feel a 
 want of this resemblance and a separation from Him, we are 
 bound still more for this reason to investigate all the perfec- 
 tions of our nature, by which our resemblance with the 
 Godhead may be confirmed, and we should not like allies of 
 the wicked Spirit keep our eves constantly fixed upon our 
 nakedness and deficiencies, but rather seek out those 
 perfections which establish our relationship with the 
 Divinity." 
 
 I smiled, and observed in reply, " Do not make me blush, 
 dear uncle, at your kindness in expressing your thoughts in 
 my language. Tour views upon this subject are to me of 
 such importance, that I would prefer to hear them in your 
 own language, and then, whatever 1 cannot appropriate to 
 myself, I shall endeavour to translate." 
 
 He answered as follows : " I will continue to address you 
 in my own style, without in the least degree altering my 
 tone. The greatest merit of man consists in his ability to 
 control events, and in preventing himself from being con- 
 trolled by them. The whole world lies before us like a huge 
 quarry before an architect, and he only deserves the name 
 of man, who out of this accidental mass, can fashion with the 
 greatest economy, ingenuity and durability, some form, the 
 conception of which has arisen in his own mind. Every 
 thing without us, and I might also say within us, is but 
 elementary, but deep within us lies a creative power, which 
 can fashion all that is destined to exist, and allows us neither 
 to sleep nor to rest, until without us or within us this end 
 has by some means been attained. You, my dear niece, 
 have doubtless chosen the better part, you have sought to 
 bring your moral being, your deep and lovely nature, into ac- 
 cordance with yourself and with the Highest, but nevertheless 
 
378 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 we are not to be condemned for seeking to understand the 
 whole race of reasonable inert and to bring their powers into 
 active harmony." 
 
 By conversations of this nature, we became gradually 
 familiar with each other, and I entreated that he wouhl 
 in future address me without any kind of reserve. " Do not 
 think," said my uncle to me, "that I flatter you, when I 
 admire your style of thinking and of acting. I honour the 
 man who has a distinct idea of his intentions, whose progress 
 towards their attainment is unwearied, and who knows how 
 to seize and to use the proper means for securing his end. 
 It is a matter of minor importance how far that end is 
 noble or contemptible, or how far it is deserving of praise 
 or censure. Believe me, my love, that the greater part of 
 misfortune and of all that we call evil in this world, arises 
 from the indifference of men to their own real interests, and 
 from their ignorance of the method by which they can be 
 secured. In my opinion they resemble people, who have 
 determined to erect a tower, but spend no more time or 
 labour upon the foundation than would suffice to build a 
 hut. If you, my dear friend, whose highest aim it has been 
 to perfect your moral nature, instead of making the great 
 sacrifices which have been required at your hands, had 
 yielded to the allurements of your family, of a bridegroom or 
 even of a husband, you would have lived in perpetual con- 
 tradiction with yourself, and would never have enjoyed a 
 peaceful moment." 
 
 I replied, "You have used the word sacrifice, and I 
 have often inquired, whether in offering up a thing of small 
 value in honour of an exalted purpose, as of a divinity, our 
 heart has been thoroughly concerned therein, as it would be 
 with those who willingly and cheerfully lead a beloved lamb 
 to the altar to secure the health of a revered parent." 
 
 "Whether it be reason or feeling," he answered, " which 
 induces us to surrender one thing for another, decision and 
 perseverance are in my opinion the most valuable qualities 
 of man. You cannot possess your goods and your money 
 together, and he who wishes for the goods without having 
 the heart to spend his money in their purchase, is as much 
 to be pitied as the man who repents the purchase when the 
 goods are in his hands. But I cannot blame men on this 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 379 
 
 account, they do not deserve our censure they find them- 
 selves in a difficult and entangled situation from which they 
 cannot easily escape. Tor this reason, in general, you will 
 find fewer bad managers in the country than in towns, and 
 fewer still in small towns than in large ones. How does 
 this happen ? Because man is born to fill a limited situa- 
 tion, he can understand objects which are simple, near and 
 determinate, and he becomes accustomed to avail himself 
 of every resource which he finds at hand, but let him depart 
 from his usual course, and he is at once perplexed and con- 
 fused, and this happens whether he is distracted by the 
 multitude of objects or confounded by their magnitude and 
 dignity. And he cannot fail to be unhappy when his exertions 
 are directed towards an object to which he cannot attach 
 himself by a regular devotion of his powers. 
 
 "It is certain," he continued, " that without earnestness 
 nothing can be accomplished in the world, and yet even 
 amongst men whom we consider cultivated, how little 
 earnestness is to be found ! They engage in works, and 
 business, and pursue the arts and even pleasures, as it were, 
 in self-defence ; they live as they would read a collec- 
 tion of newspapers in order to get through them, and they 
 remind me of the young Englishman at Eome, who one 
 evening in company, related, with a feeling of self-satisfaction, 
 that he had that day despatched six churches and two galle- 
 ries. They are ambitious of learning and of knowing much, 
 and they devote themselves chiefly to those things which 
 are, to them, of the least importance, forgetting that hunger 
 can never be appeased by snapping at the air. When I am 
 first introduced to a man, I invariably inquire what is his 
 employment and with what perseverance he engages in it. 
 Upon the answer, depends the interest which I take in him 
 for life." 
 
 " My dear uncle," I replied, " you are too severe, and 
 perhaps frequently withdraw your helping hand from many 
 a good man, to whom you might be of service." 
 
 " Can I be blamed with any reason," he answered, "who 
 have toiled so long in their behalf in vain ? How great have 
 been our sufferings in youth from men, who believe that 
 they invite us to a delightful entertainment, when they intro- 
 duce us into the company of the Danaids and Sysiphus ? 
 
380 WILHELM MEISTEIl'S 
 
 Thank Heaven I have got rid of such people, and if unfor- 
 tunately I meet one of them now, I take leave of him in the 
 politest manner possible ; as it is precisely from such indi- 
 viduals that we always hear the bitterest complaints about 
 the entangled course of affairs in this world, the dryness of 
 science, the levity 'of artists, the emptiness of poets, and other 
 evils of that nature. They forget that neither they, nor per- 
 sons of their way of thinking, would ever read a book, were 
 it written upon their plan, that they are utter strangers to 
 true poetry, and that even an excellent work of art could only 
 obtain their approbation by means of prejudice. But let 
 us leave this subject, as this is not a time to censure or 
 to complain." 
 
 He directed my attention to the different paintings which 
 ornamented the apartment. My attention was attracted by 
 those of which the appearance was beautiful or the subject 
 interesting. He watched me in silence for a short time and 
 then observed, " Bestow a little attention upon the genius 
 which has executed these works. Pious minds first delight in 
 tracing the finger of God in the works of Nature, why should 
 we not bestow some degree of attention upon the hand of 
 his imitator ?" He then pointed out to me some pictures of 
 less pretension, took pains to explain that the history of art 
 alone could render us capable of comprehending the value 
 and dignity of works of art, that we should know the weary 
 paths of mechanism and labour, along which the man of 
 industry has toiled for centuries, before we can understand 
 how it is possible for genius to move with airy freedom on 
 the lofty pinnacle whose mere aspect is sufficient to render 
 us giddy. 
 
 With this view he had formed a collection of beautiful ^ 
 works of art, and whilst he directed my attention to them, 
 I could not avoid believing that I saw before me a correct 
 type of moral culture. Upon expressing this thought to 
 him, he observed, " You are quite right, and we may conclude 
 from thence that it is not just exclusively to pursue our 
 moral cultivation. For he whose mind is engaged in this 
 study should, at the same time, endeavour to improve 
 his finer sensibilities, that he may not incur the risk of 
 falling from his moral height, enticed by the allurements 
 of an ill-regulated fancy, or degrade his more noble na- 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 381 
 
 ture by feeling pleasure in tasteless trifles, or in something 
 worse." 
 
 I had no idea that his allusions were intended for me, and 
 yet I felt their justice when I remembered the worthlessness 
 of many of the songs which had formerly afforded me 
 delight, and recollected that many of the emblems which so 
 completely suited my religious notions, would have found 
 but little favour in my uncle's eyes. 
 
 During all this time, Philo had been employing himself 
 in the library, to which he now introduced me. We admired 
 the selection as well as the number of the books. They 
 had been arranged upon a certain plan, and either furnished 
 us with correct knowledge, or taught us right arrangement, 
 providing us with proper materials for thought, or satisfying 
 the wants of the mind. 
 
 My course of reading had been extensive. In certain 
 departments of literature there was scarcely a book with 
 which I was unacquainted, and on this account I felt great 
 pleasure in taking a general survey of the state of learning, 
 and of observing deficiencies where formerly I had only 
 perceived perplexity and confusion. 
 
 At the same time, we made the acquaintance of a very 
 interesting but unobtrusive personage. He was a physician 
 and a naturalist, and appeared rather to be one of the 
 Penates, than an inhabitant of the house. He pointed out 
 the natural curiosities which, like the books, were enclosed 
 in glass cases, ornamenting and ennobling the apartment, 
 which they did not overcrowd. Here, I thought with 
 pleasure upon the days of my youth, and reminded my 
 father of several specimens which he had formerly brought 
 to the bed-side of his sick child, when he had scarcely 
 expected that I should survive. At the same time, the 
 physician declared, in the course of a conversation to which 
 we shall hereafter allude, that he very nearly agreed with 
 me upon religious subjects. He highly praised my uncle 
 for his toleration, and for his esteem of every thing that could 
 promote the worth and unity of human nature, only requir- 
 ing a similar concession from other men, and condemning 
 nothing so thoroughly as individual ignorance or prejudice 
 of mind. 
 
 From the day of my sister's nuptials, joy had sparkled in 
 
382 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 my uncle's eyes, and he frequently conversed with me of his 
 intentions towards her and her children. He possessed a 
 handsome estate which he superintended himself, and which 
 he hoped to bequeath to his nephew in the most favourable 
 condition. He seemed to have some special views with 
 respect to the small property upon which we resided. "I 
 intecd to bequeath it," he would say, "to some person who 
 can understand how to appreciate and enjoy what it contains, 
 and who can feel that a man of wealth and position, parti- 
 cularly in Germany, is required to shew a worthy example 
 to others." 
 
 The greater part of the guests had by this time taken 
 their departure. We were preparing to follow their exam- 
 ple, and thought we had already witnessed the last scenes of 
 our festivities, when we were surprised by a new attempt on 
 my uncle's part to afford us entertainment. We had not 
 been able to conceal from him the delight with which, upon 
 the marriage of my sister, we had heard the chorus of 
 men's voices without an instrumental accompaniment . We 
 had frequently hinted that a repetition of this pleasure 
 would be extremely agreeable, but he affected to pay no 
 attention to our suggestions. Judge of our astonishment, 
 therefore, when he said one evening, " The music of the 
 dance is over, our young friends have taken their departure, 
 and even the wedded pair themselves have assumed a more 
 serious look than they bore some days ago. To separate, 
 therefore, at such a moment, when, perhaps, we may never 
 meet again, at least without some changes having occurred, 
 imparts to our minds a feeling of solemnity, to which I 
 cannot pay a deeper respect than by a repetition of that 
 delicious music, which you have so frequently desired to 
 hear." 
 
 He had in the interim increased the strength of his chorus, 
 which had become more perfect by secret practice, and they 
 now enchanted us with a succession of songs, arranged for 
 four and eight voices, which, I might almost say, gave us a 
 foretaste of heavenly bliss. I had previously been acquainted 
 only with those sacred canticles which very devout persons are 
 accustomed to sing with rather hoarse voices, when, like the 
 wild birds, they fancy that they honour Grod when they a i* 
 only pleasing themselves ; or at times, 1 had listened to t ie 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 583 
 
 vain music of concerts, in which we are rather led to admire 
 the talents of the singers, than to experience even a transient 
 feeling of delight. Now, I was made sensible of the power of 
 music, which, springing from the deepest sources of accom- 
 plished nature, is made to express the best and loftiest senti- 
 ments of man, by 'means of suitable and well-practised 
 organs, which are combined in harmonious unison, and 
 impress us with a sense of our resemblance to the Deity. 
 The music consisted of sacred songs, written in the Latin 
 language, and they shone like diamonds in the golden ring 
 of polished worldly intercourse, and without pretending to 
 afford edification, they elevated my feelings, and rendered 
 me spiritually happy. 
 
 At our departure, we all received the most costly gifts. 
 J I e presented me with the cross of my order, worked and 
 ornamented in the most beautiful and artistic manner, and 
 I'liamelU'd in an antique fashion. It was suspended from a 
 large brilliant, by which it was attached to the chain, and 
 which challenged comparison with the noblest jewel in a 
 rich cabinet. 
 
 My vompanied her husband to their country seat, 
 
 the remainder of the party returned to their abodes, and we 
 felt, as far as our outward circumstances were concerned, as 
 if we had resumed a very common-place existence. We 
 had descended to the dull earth from an aerial fairy palac 7 
 and we found ourselves once more thrown upon our own 
 resources. 
 
 The strange experiences which I had gained in that new 
 circle of acquaintance left a pleasing impression upon my 
 mind, but it did not long continue, notwithstanding the 
 efforts of my uncle to encourage it, by sending me from time 
 to time some of the most valuable specimens of his works 
 of art, which, when I had sufficiently enjoyed, were exchanged 
 for others. 
 
 I had been so long engaged with my own thoughts and in 
 regulating the emotions of my heart and of my spirit, as 
 well as in conversing upon such topics with persons of my 
 own disposition, that I could not study a work of art for an v 
 length of time, without feeling its effect upon myself. I 
 read a picture, or a copper-plate, as I could have done the 
 letters of a book. Beautiful printing affords pleasure, but 
 
384 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 who could read a book merely for the sake of the printing ? 
 so I wished that every pictured representation should 
 instruct, affect, and improve me, and notwithstanding my 
 uncle's letters in which he explained all his works of art, 
 my style of thinking remained unaltered. 
 
 But the changes which soon took place in my own family, 
 and various other circumstances, operated far more than my 
 own natural disposition, in diverting my mind from such re- 
 flections, and even from considering my own condition. I 
 had to suffer and to work far more severely than my infirm 
 powers seemed able to endure. 
 
 My unmarried sister had been until now my chief support. 
 Healthy, strong, and indescribably kind, she had undertaken 
 the sole charge of the housekeeping, whilst upon me de- 
 volved the care of my father. A severe cold brought 
 on an affection of the chest, and in three weeks she was 
 lying in her coffin. Her death inflicted upon me a severe 
 wound, the scar of which I cannot even yet bear to look 
 upon. 
 
 I I was confined to bed by sickness before her funeral took 
 place. The old weakness of my chest returned, my cough 
 increased alarmingly, and I lost my voice to such a degree 
 that I could scarcely speak above a whisper. 
 
 The alarm and trouble of my married sister occasioned 
 her premature confinement. My father feared that lie was 
 about to lose his children, together with all hopes of posterity, 
 and the tears which he shed on this account increased my 
 sorrow. I prayed to Grod that he would restore me to health, 
 I implored Him to prolong my life, if only until my father's 
 decease. I recovered to some extent, as I was able to dis- 
 charge my duties, although the effort cost me considerable 
 exertion. 
 
 My sister was once more in a condition to become a 
 mother, and many cares fell to my lot which should naturally 
 have devolved upon her. She was not perfectly happy with 
 her husband, and it was considered desirable that this cir- 
 cumstance should be concealed from my father. I was occa- 
 sionally called in to reconcile their differences, and the task 
 was easy, as I possessed the confidence of my brother-in-law, 
 and both he and my sister were really worthy persons, but 
 instead of humouring, they sought to convince each other, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 385 
 
 ancffrom an extreme anxiety to live in perfect harmony, they 
 never could agree. 
 
 My sister gave birth to a son, and my father's indisposi- 
 tion did not prevent him from paying her a visit. The sight 
 of the infant rendered him cheerful and happy, and at the 
 christening he seemed to be perfectly enraptured, and I may 
 almost say that he resembled a genius with two faces. On 
 the one side, he looked joyfully towards those regions, which 
 were opening before him, and on the other, he viewed that 
 now and hopeful career, which was to be pursued by his 
 infant descendant. As we returned home, he never ceased 
 to talk of the child, of its appearance, of its health, and of 
 his own anxiety that the talents of this new citizen of the 
 world should be properly cultivated. And even after our 
 arrival at home, his thoughts upon this subject were conti- 
 nued. Some days after, he was attacked with fever,. which 
 manifested its symptoms by fits of shivering, accompanied 
 by a languid heat, which commenced after he had taken his 
 s. But he held up, notwithstanding, drove out in the 
 morning, and continued to discharge the duties of his office, 
 until a serious and confirmed attack of illness at length con- 
 fined him to his bed. 
 
 I shall never forget the composure of mind, the clearness 
 and precision, with which he regulated his household affairs, 
 and gave directions for his funeral, as if such things had 
 merely concerned some other person. 
 
 His cheerfulness even assumed the appearance of actual 
 
 joy, and he would ask me, " Where is all that apprehension 
 
 ath, which formerly made me tremble ? Why should I 
 
 fear to die ? I have a merciful God the grave awakens no 
 
 : ors I shall enjoy eternal life." 
 
 It forms one of the most pleasing delights of my lonely 
 hours, to recall the circumstances of his death, which ensued 
 soon after, and I never can be persuaded, that the operation 
 of a higher power was not at that time plainly discernible. 
 
 The decease of my beloved father altogether changed my 
 course of life. I now enjoyed the most perfect freedom, 
 though I had previously been accustomed to the strictest 
 obrilience and the most severe restraints. It seemed like 
 the partaking of food after a long abstinence. Previou>l\ , 
 I had seldom been absent from home for two hours together, 
 
 2 o 
 
386 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 now I rarely spent a day in the house. My friends, whom I 
 had permitted to visit me at intervals, wished to enjoy my 
 uninterrupted society, and the desire was reciprocal. 1 
 received many invitations to dinner, and I was never absent 
 from a promenade or party of pleasure. But when I had 
 fairly pursued the whole round of entertainments, I learned 
 that the unspeakable value of freedom consisted not 
 in doing what we please, or all that circumstances allow, 
 but in the power of doing at once and without restraint, 
 whatever we consider right ; and I was old enough 
 now to learn this valuable lesson without paying for my ex- 
 perience. 
 
 I could not now deny myself the pleasure of renewing, 
 and strengthening, my acquaintance, with the Society of 
 Herrnhuthers, and I took the first opportunity to pay a visit 
 to their establishment, which was in our neighbourhood. 
 But I was disappointed in my anticipations. I was candid 
 enough to acknowledge this, whereupon the fraternity sought 
 to account for it, by explaining that the present small es- 
 tablishment must not be compared to a fully organised 
 community. I was obliged to admit this excuse, though 
 it seemed to me that the true spirit of the institution 
 would show itself, as easily, in a small as in a large com- 
 munity. 
 
 One of their bishops, who was present, a favourite disciple 
 of the founder himself, took considerable trouble with me. 
 He spoke English perfectly, and as 1 understood that lan- 
 guage slightly, he considered it to be a bond of union be- 
 tween us. But I was of a wholly different opinion, and his 
 conversation did not interest me in the slightest degree. 
 He had been a cutler, and was a native of Moravia, and his 
 style of thinking betrayed his artizan origin. I was on far 
 
 better terms with the Herr von L , who had been a 
 
 major in the French army. But I never could imitate the 
 obedience which he showed to his superiors, and I felt 
 perfectly humiliated when I saw the Major's wife and 
 other distinguished ladies kiss the Bishop's hand. Soon 
 after this a journey to Holland was proposed, and it 
 was, doubtless, for my advantage that the project was 
 abandoned. 
 
 My sister now gave birth to a daughter ; when it was the 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 387 
 
 Indies' turn to rejoice, and to consider how the little creature 
 should be educated. But my brother-in-law was not 
 altogether satisfied when, in the following year, another 
 daughter was born, as he wonld have preferred a family of 
 boys, who might be able to assist him in the management 
 of his estate. 
 
 My health was delicate, but, as I remained very quiet, I 
 A as wholly indifferent to whatever might occur. I did not 
 fear death I even wished to die but I felt, during my 
 hours of reflection, that God was granting me time for 
 examining my soul, and drawing nearer to him. During 
 many a sleepless night I experienced sensations, which I feel 
 it impossible to describe. 
 
 It seemed to me, as if my soul had possessed the faculty 
 of thinking independently of my body, and as if she looked 
 upon the latter as a foreign substance, as we esteem a gar- 
 ment. She dwelt vividly upon times and circumstances 
 which had long passed away, and from them she would 
 endeavour to anticipate the future. Those days are fled, 
 the future too will pass away, the body will decay like a 
 ure, but I the well-known I will remain. 
 
 Although this reflection is sublime and full of consolation, 
 a worthy friend who had studied my disposition forbade me 
 to encourage it. This was the physician whom I had met 
 at my uncle's house, and who now perfectly understood my 
 physical and moral organization. He taught me that such 
 ieelings, when they are entertained independently of out- 
 ward objects, weaken and undermine the whole foundation 
 of our being. " Activity," he would say, " is the destiny of 
 man, and every interval of time in which he is obliged to 
 take repose, should be dedicated to gaining a clearer know- 
 ledge of outward things, which may afterwards stimulate 
 his industry." 
 
 This friend understood my propensity to regard the body 
 as a mere external object, knew that I was well acquainted 
 with my own constitution, as well as with the nature of my 
 infirmity, and the proper remedies for its cure, and that by 
 continually attending upon other people, I had become a sort 
 of half physician ; he, therefore, directed my attention from 
 thf human body, and its ailments and specifics, to other ob- 
 of creation. He introduced me into a species of 
 
388 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 paradise, and if I may venture to pursue the allegory, be 
 allowed me to enjoy a distant view of the Creator Himself, 
 walking in the garden in the cool of the evening. 
 
 How gladly now did I see God in nature, when I carried 
 Him so certainly in my heart, how full of interest were all 
 the works of His hands, and how thankful did I feel that He 
 had quickened me with the breath of His mouth. 
 
 We had still hopes that my sister would give birth to a 
 son, an event which my brother-in-law anxiously desired, 
 but which he did not live to see. The worthy man was 
 killed by a fall from his horse, and my sister followed him 
 soon after her confinement of a lovely boy. I could never 
 behold her orphan child without being oppressed with grief. 
 Many healthy people had been called away before me, 
 though I had long been an invalid. Was I, perhaps, des- 
 tined to see these hopeful blossoms blighted ? I knew the 
 world well enough to understand the many dangers, which 
 surround an infant of high birth, and it appeared as if they 
 had increased since the period of my youth. I felt that my 
 own weak health incapacitated me from doing much for the 
 improvement of the children, and I rejoiced, therefore, that 
 my uncle had resolved, as might, indeed, have been expected, 
 to attend zealously to the education of these amiable crea- 
 tures, and, to say the truth, they were in every re- 
 spect worthy of his care. They were well formed and 
 handsome, and notwithstanding that they were unlike one 
 another, they gave reasonable hopes of doing credit to their 
 parents. 
 
 From the time that my kind friend the physician had 
 directed my attention to the subject, I felt a pleasure in 
 tracing family resemblances amongst the children and their 
 relatives. My father had carefully preserved the portraits of 
 his ancestors, and had caused the likenesses of himself and of 
 his children, to be executed by very tolerable artists, nor had 
 my mother, and her side of the house, been forgotten. We 
 were accurately acquainted with the characters of the whole 
 family, and as we frequently compared them together, we 
 sought to detect in the children the same physical and moral 
 resemblances. My sister's eldest son seemed to resemble 
 his paternal grandfather, and a good representation of him 
 was preserved in the collection of my uncle. The child, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 389 
 
 like his ancestor, who had distinguished himself as a brave 
 officer, delighted in military weapons, with which, whenever 
 he paid me a visit, he was sure to be occupied. My father 
 had a very complete armoury, and the youngster would not 
 rest until I had provided him with a pair of pistols and a 
 u r un. In other respects his conduct and deportment had no 
 i race of rudeness, on the contrary, he was rather mild and 
 obliging. ' 
 
 The eldest daughter had won my entire love. Thi* might 
 have arisen from her close resemblance to myself, and 
 because she was more attached to me, than any of her sisters. 
 But I must acknowledge, that the more closely I observed 
 her, the more she made me feel my deficiencies, and I could 
 scarcely even look upon her, without a feeling of admiration, 
 which iiearlv amounted to reverence. I had seldom known a 
 nobler form,* a more tranquil mind, or an industry so equable 
 and uniform. During her existence, she was never for a single 
 moment unemployed, and every pursuit in which she engaged, 
 wore an air of dignity. Every thing seemed alike to her 
 provided she could do it in the proper place ami at the 
 proper time; and she could even remain unemployed with- 
 out impatience, when there was no actual duty to fulfil. Such 
 activity, without the necessity for occupation, I had never 
 witnessed. Her conduct towards the suffering and the 
 indigent was, from her earliest years, inimitable. I co; 
 that I had never possessed the talent to make a business of 
 charity, and though I was never niggardly towards the poor, 
 but was rather too generous in proportion to my circum- 
 es, thus purchasing my immunity as it were, yet I 
 required to feel an attachment for a person before I could 
 bestow my care upon him ; but the conduct which I ad- 
 mired in my niece was directly the reverse. I never saw 
 her distribute money to the poor, and whatever I gave to her 
 for that purpose, she laid out in the purchase of some article 
 of necessity. Never did she appear more amiable in iny 
 eyes, than when she was employed in examining my clothes 
 and presses, she was sure to find something which I n< 
 longer required, and her greatest delight consisted in cut 
 up such articles as she could find, and preparing them 
 poor ragged child. 
 
390 WILHELM HEIST E It's 
 
 The disposition of her sister was altogether different. 
 She was more like her mother, promising from a very early 
 age, to be elegant and beautiful, and bidding fair to realize 
 ^uch expectations. She was wholly occupied with her 
 person, and she soon learned the art of dressing with taste, 
 and of carrying herself with grace and elegance. I well recol- 
 lect with what rapture she once surveyed herself in the glass, 
 when she had persuaded me to adorn her hair with some 
 beautiful pearls, which had once belonged to her mother, and 
 which she had found amongst my ornaments. 
 
 In reflecting upon these different dispositions, it gave me 
 pleasure to think how my property, upon my death, would 
 be divided amongst the members of the family, and once 
 more called into action. I saw, in fancy, the fowling piece 
 of my father once more traversing the fields upon the 
 shoulder of my nephew, and the game once more falling 
 from his sporting bag ; I saw my entire wardrobe upon the 
 persons of neat little girls, as they came from church after 
 the Easter confirmation, and my best garments applied to 
 the decoration of some virtuous burgher maiden upon her 
 bridal day. Nathalia took great delight in providing for 
 children of this description, and for poor well-behaved girls, 
 although, I should observe, she never evinced the least love, 
 or necessity for dependence upon any visible or invisible 
 Being, as I had done so strongly during my youth. And 
 when I reflected, that upon the same day, my youngest 
 niece would wear my jewels and my pearls at court, I could 
 contemplate with peace, that my possessions, as well as my 
 body, would be restored to the elements. 
 
 The children grew up, and to my great joy they are now 
 handsome and talented creatures. I am quite content that 
 my uncle should keep them separated from me, and I seldom 
 see them either in the neighbourhood or in the town. 
 
 A man of somewhat singular character, who passes for a 
 French clergyman, though no one seems to be accurately 
 acquainted with, his history, has taken them under his charge. 
 They have been brought up in different places and their 
 abode is often changed. 
 
 At first I could not comprehend the object of this system 
 of education, until my friend the physician at length in- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 301 
 
 formed me, that my uncle had been convinced by the Abbe 
 that, to render education effectual, the wishes and the dis- 
 position of the pupil should be studied that when these 
 are understood, measures should be taken by which such 
 wishes may be gratified, in order that if a mistake in the 
 selection have been made, the error may be in time retrieved, 
 and that when the pupil has discovered the pursuit for which 
 he is adapted, he may follow it with earnestness, with a view 
 to his own improvement. I heartily wish that this unusual 
 plan may prosper ; with good dispositions it may possibly 
 succeed. 
 
 But there is one thing in this system of which I cannot 
 approve. They endeavour to withdraw the children from a 
 study of themselves, and from intercourse with their In- 
 visible, but only true, friend. I am often distressed that my 
 uncle should consider my society as dangerous to the 
 children. Thus, in practice, no man is tolerant ; for even 
 those who assert most loudly, that they permit every one to 
 act as he pleases, carefully exclude the interference of those 
 who do not agree with them in opinion. 
 
 This effort, to keep me separated from the children, troubles 
 me the more in proportion as I am convinced of the sin- 
 cerity of my faith. For why should not its origin be divine, 
 its object real, when in practice it is so effectual ? For, as 
 practical things alone convince us of our existence, why 
 should we not be satisfied with the same proof, to demon- 
 strate the influence of that Being whose hand dispenses 
 every blessing. 
 
 That my progress is ever in advance, and that I never 
 retrograde that my conduct becomes daily more conform- 
 able to the ideas which I have formed of perfection that 
 in spite of my bodily infirmities, which exclude me from so 
 many opportunities of doing good I feel a growing inclina- 
 tion to discharge my duty can all this be explained by 
 the principles of mere human nature whose corruption I 
 have so clearly seen ? In my opinion, decidedly not. 
 
 I can scarcely remember a command I have never known 
 a law an impulse leads me and always conducts me right 
 I freely pursue my own disposition, and I am a stranger 
 alike to restraint and to remorse. Thank God ! I know to 
 
392 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 whom I am indebted for this happiness, and that I can con- 
 template my advantages with humility. I shall never incur 
 the danger of being too proud of my own power and ability, 
 for I well know, that but for the restraining hand of a higher 
 power, what a hideous monster would be born and nourished 
 in every human bosom. 
 
APPHENTICESHIP. 303 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 THE spring had already commenced in all its beauty ; a 
 storm which had been threatening all day, broke furiously 
 over the hills, the rain deluged the country at a distance 
 from us, and finally the sun shone forth in full brilliancy, 
 and the dark horizon was illuminated by a glorious rainbow. 
 Wilhelm was riding in the direction of the spot in which it 
 appeared, and the sight depressed his spirits. " Alas!" he 
 thought within himself, " and are the fairest hues of life 
 only to be seen upon a dark background ? And must rain 
 fall in order that we may feel enchanted ? It matters not 
 whether the day be bright or gloomy, if our feelings are 
 unmoved, and what can move us more than the silent hope 
 that the innate wishes of our heart shall not for ever remain 
 without an object ? We are moved by the recital of a famous 
 action, or by the sight of a noble deed, we feel then as if 
 we were not wholly in a foreign land, we believe that we 
 are nearer to that home, towards which all our best and 
 fondest wishes are so earnestly bent." 
 
 In the mean time a pedestrian had overtaken him, and 
 walking rapidly, kept pace with Wilhelm' s horse. After a 
 few ordinary observations, he said, " If I mistake not, we 
 have met before." 
 
 " I remember you perfectly," replied Wilhelm, " did we 
 not once enjoy a pleasant sail together ?" 
 
 " Quite right," observed the stranger. 
 
 Wilhelm looked at him attentively and after a short pause 
 observed, " I do not well understand the change which has 
 taken place in you, but formerly you seemed to me to be a 
 Lutheran clergyman, now I should take you for a Catholic 
 priest." 
 
394 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 " You are not wrong," replied the stranger, as he took off 
 his hat, and showed his tonsure. " But what has become of 
 your companions ? Did you continue long together ?" 
 
 " Longer than was right, and when I reflect upon the 
 time which I spent in their society, it seems as if I were 
 gazing into an unfathomable void, no trace of it remains." 
 
 " You mistake," observed the stranger, " every thing that 
 happens to us leaves some memorial behind, which it is 
 dangerous for us to examine too closely. We either grow 
 proud and negligent, or else become dispirited and depressed, 
 and both these conditions of mind are injurious. The safest 
 mode of acting is to employ ourselves with our nearest 
 duty, and at present," he added, with a smile, " that consists 
 in hastening to our quarters." 
 
 Wilhelm inquired how far Lothario's house was distant 
 from them ? His companion informed him that it lay behind 
 the hill. " Perhaps we may meet there," he continued, " as 
 I have some business to transact in the neighbourhood. 
 Farewell !" and with these words he ascended a steep foot 
 path, which seemed to lead by a shorter way across the 
 mountain. 
 
 " Truly, he is right," said Wilhelm, as he proceeded, " we 
 should employ ourselves with our nearest duty, and for the 
 present there is nothing nearer to me, than the sad commis- 
 sion which I have to execute. Let me see whether I quite 
 recollect the speech, which I have composed, to confound 
 Aurelia's cruel friend." 
 
 He commenced to repeat his oration, he did not miss a 
 syllable, and the faithfulness of his memory served to augment 
 his passion and his courage. Aurelia's sufferings, and the 
 circumstances attending her death, were vividly present to 
 his soul. 
 
 "Spirit of my friend!'' he exclaimed, " hover round me now, 
 and if possible, convey to me some intimation that thou art 
 satisfied and appeased !" Amid thse soliloquies and reflec- 
 tions, he had gained the summit of the hill, and he saw at the 
 bottom of the descent, upon the other side, a remarkable- 
 looking house, which he at once concluded was Lothario's 
 abode. An old irregular castle, ornamented with tur- 
 rets and gabled roofs, seemed to have formed the original 
 building. It was increased by some new and irregular 
 
APPEEKTICESHIP. 395 
 
 additions which had been made to the old structure, or were 
 connected with it, by means of galleries and covered pas- 
 -. Outward symmetry and architectural beauty had 
 been wholly sacrificed to the claims of convenience. There 
 was no trace of wall or trench, and no appearance of avenue 
 or artificial pleasure grounds. A fruifc and vegetable garden 
 had been formed close to the buildings, and some small plots 
 of land had been dedicated to similar uses in the intervening 
 space. A busy village lay at a little distance, and gardens 
 and fields in the highest state of cultivation were every where 
 visible. 
 
 Buried in his own deep thoughts, Wilhelm rode forward, 
 little thinking of the sights around him ; and leaving his 
 horse at an inn, it was not without emotion that he hastened 
 to the castle. 
 
 An old servant received him at the entrance, who informed 
 him respectfully, that he could scarcely expect to be admitted 
 i interview with his Lordship, as the latter had many 
 letters to write, and had already denied himself to several 
 visitors. But upon Wilhelm' s insisting, the servant con- 
 sented to announce him. He returned, and introduced 
 Wilhelm into a large and antiquated hall, where he requested 
 him to wait, as his master might perhaps be detained for a 
 considerable time. Wilhelm walked restlessly up and down 
 tin 1 apartment, and amused himself with examining the por- 
 traits of the knights and ladies, which adorned the walls. 
 He commenced his speech once more, and it seemed to 
 be quite in place amongst the antique dresses and suits 
 of armour which he saw around him. Upon hearing the 
 slightest noise, he placed himself in an attitude to meet his 
 antagonist with dignity, intending first to deliver his letter, 
 and then to encounter him with the weapons of reproach. 
 
 Several times he was disappointed, and he was becoming 
 angry and impatient, when at length a handsome man, in 
 boots and wearing a fashionably made coat, entered the 
 apartment by a side door. " What good news do you bring ?" 
 he inquired of Wilhelm in a friendly tone : " Pardon me 
 for having made you wait." 
 
 Whilst he was speaking, he continued folding up a paper, 
 which he held in his hand. With some embarrassment, 
 Wilhelm gave him Aurelia's letter, saying, " I bring you 
 
396 WILHELM: MEISTEIi's 
 
 here the last words of a friend, which you cannot read with- 
 out emotion." 
 
 Lothario took the letter and returned to his apartment, 
 and Wilhelm could observe, through the open door, that he 
 sealed and directed some other letters before he opened 
 Aurelia's. He seemed to peruse it several times, and though 
 Wilhelm thought that his pathetic speech would but ill 
 accord with his cool reception, he summoned up courage 
 and advanced to the door-way, and was on the point of com- 
 mencing his oration, when a tapestry door of the cabinet 
 opened, and the clergyman made his appearance. 
 
 "I have received the most extraordinary communication 
 in the world," observed Lothario. " Pardon me," he conti- 
 nued, as he turned towards Wilhelm, "if I am not able for 
 the moment to prolong our interview. But you must remain 
 here to-night, and, A.bbe, you will take care that our guest 
 wants for nothing." 
 
 So saying, he bowed to Wilhelm. The clergyman took 
 Wilhelm by the hand, who followed him reluctantly. 
 
 Silently they took their course together, along some 
 curious passages, till at length they reached a handsome 
 chamber, to which the clergyman introduced him, and then 
 retired without further apology. Presently a ciu crt'ul youth 
 made his appearance, who announced himself to Wilht-hn as 
 his servant. He brought up the supper, and during his 
 attendance, he had much to say about the regulations of the 
 house, the breakfasts, the dinners, the work, and the 
 amusements, mingling the whole with the warmest praises 
 of Lothario. 
 
 But, notwithstanding the entertainment which the boy 
 afforded, Wilhelm was anxious for his departure. He wished 
 to be alone, as in the situation in which he found himself, he 
 was perplexed and ill at ease. He upbraided himself for 
 having so imperfectly fulfilled his intentions, and for having 
 only half performed his commission. He determined there- 
 fore to supply the deficiency upon the following morning, 
 but he soon perceived that Lothario's presence would be 
 sure to effect an alteration in his feelings. The whole house 
 appeared to him so mysterious that he could not understand 
 it. He resolved, therefore, to retire for the night, and ac- 
 cordingly he opened his travelling bag to prepare his things. 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 307 
 
 In taking out his night dress, he found the Ghost's veil, which 
 Mignon had packed up, together with his clothes. The sight of 
 this increased his sadness. " Fly! youth, fly!" he exclaimed, 
 " "What can those mysterious words mean ? Why should I 
 fly, and whither ? Far better had the Ghost commanded me 
 to reflect upon my condition." He examined the pictures 
 which were hanging about the chamber, he surveyed most 
 of them with indifference, but at length his attention was 
 attracted by the engraving of a shipwreck. A father and 
 his beautiful daughters were struggling for life with the over- 
 whelmin^ waves. One of these ladies resembled his favour- 
 ite Amazon, an inexpressible feeling of compassion seized 
 AV'ilhelm, he could not resist the emotions of his heart, tears 
 streamed from his eyes, and he did not resume his compo- 
 sure until he was overcome by sleep. 
 
 Strange dreams visited him towards morning. He thought 
 lie was wandering in a garden, to which he had often resorted 
 in youth, and that he once more saw with delight, the walks, 
 parterres, and beds of flowers, with which he had been so 
 familiar. Mariana met him, and he spoke to her with 
 a voice full of love and without recalling any of their 
 by-gone troubles. His father joined them soon afterwards, 
 he wore his morning dress, and in a confidential tone, 
 wholly unlike his usual manner, he requested Wilhelm to 
 bring two chairs into the garden, and taking Mariana by 
 the hand, he led her to a summer house. 
 
 Wilhelm hastened to obey, but found the garden-house 
 quite empty, but he saw Aurelia standing at an opposite 
 window. He approached to address her, but she remained 
 immoveable, and though he placed himself beside her, he 
 could not see her face. He looked out of the window into 
 a strange garden, where he saw a number of persons col- 
 lected together, some of whom he immediately recognized. 
 Madame Melina was sitting under a tree, playing with a 
 rose which she held in her hand. Laertes was standing 
 at her side, counting money from one hand into the 
 other. Mignon and Felix were lying on the grass, the 
 former turned upon her back, the latter prostrate on his 
 face. Philina now appeared, and clapped her hands over 
 the children. Mignon took no notice, but Felix leaped 
 up and ran away from Philina. At first he laughed as 
 
398 WILIIELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 Philina pursued him, but soon afterwards he uttered 
 a piercing scream, when he saw the old Harper fol- 
 lowing him slowly with huge strides. The child was 
 running towards a pond. Wilhelm endeavoured to over- 
 take him, but too late, the child had fallen into the 
 water ! Wilhelm stood as if he had been rooted to 
 the earth. And now he beheld the beautiful Amazon 
 standing on the other side of the pond. She stretched 
 her right hand to little Felix, and went towards the bank. 
 The child floated through the water in the direction of 
 her finger, and following her as she changed her course, 
 she at length extended her hand to him and drew him out. 
 Upon Wilhelm's approach, the boy appeared to be in flames, 
 and drops of fire were falling Irom him in all directions. 
 Wilhelm was alarmed, but the Amazon took a white veil 
 from her head, and enveloped him with it. The fire was at 
 once extinguished, but upon withdrawing the veil, two 
 children sprang from under it, and commenced sporting 
 about, while Wilhelm, hand in hand with the Amazon, 
 sauntered through the garden. At a distance he saw Mari- 
 ana and his father walking under an alley of trees which 
 seemed to surround the whole garden. He turned towards 
 them with his beautiful companion, when suddenly the 
 fair-haired Friedrich crossed their path, and detained them 
 with his laughter and a thousand droll tricks. But when 
 they insisted on proceeding, Friedrich left them, and ran 
 towards the distant pair. They seemed to fly, but Wilhelm 
 hastened his pursuit until at length he saw them wholly 
 disappear at the bottom of the alley. The voice of nature 
 and of affection appealed to him to hasten to their assistance, 
 but the hand of the Amazon held him back. How willingly 
 did he submit to the restraint ! With these mixed and con- 
 fused sensations he awoke, and found his chamber illuminated 
 by the beams of the morning sun. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WILHELH was summoned to breakfast by his attendant ; he 
 found the Abbe already in the apartment ; Lothario, it was 
 said, was gone out on horseback. The Abbe spoke but little, 
 and seemed to be absorbed in thought : he asked some ques- 
 tions about Aurelia's death, and listened with much sympa- 
 thy to Wilhel m's narrative. "Alas !" he exclaimed, " the man 
 who thoroughly understands the endless operations of nature 
 and art, which are required to form a cultivated human being, 
 or who takes a deep interest in the education of his fellow- 
 men, may well despair when he sees how madly people pur- 
 sue their own ruin, or expose themselves to thoughtless or 
 intentional danger. When I reflect upon this, life appears 
 to me a gift of such uncertain value, that I could almost 
 praise the man who holds it in but small esteem." 
 
 He had scarcely said this, when the door was burst vio- 
 lently open, and a young lady rushed into the apartment, 
 pushing back the old servant who endeavoured to impede her. 
 She ran towards the Abbe, and as he held her arm, her sobs 
 and tears scarcely allowed her to utter a few exclamations. 
 " Where is he ? What have you done with him ? It is a 
 shameful piece of treachery. Confess it. I know it all. 
 I will follow him. I know where he is." 
 
 " Compose yourself, my child," said the Abbe, with 
 assumed calmness of manner. " Eeturn to your chamber. 
 You shall hear every thing, but you must be in a state to 
 listen to the account I have to tell." He offered her his 
 hand as if he would lead her away, but she exclaimed, 
 " No ! I will not return to my room. I hate the apart- 
 ment where you have kept me so long a prisoner ! But 
 I know what has happened. The Colonel has challenged 
 him. He is gone to meet his antagonist, and, perhaps, 
 
 before this time 1 thought once or twice that I 
 
 heard the sound of shots. Order the carriage, and come 
 with me, or I will alarm the whole house, and even the 
 village, with my screams." 
 
 She rushed to the window, bathed in a flood of tears, 
 whilst the Abbe sought to restrain her, and to calm her 
 agitation. 
 
400 WILHELM METSTER'S 
 
 He heard the approach of a carriage, and threw up the 
 window. " He is dead," she cried, " they are carrying him 
 in." " He is descending from the carriage," replied the 
 Abbe, "you perceive he lives." " He is wounded," she 
 added wildly, " otherwise he would have returned on horse- 
 back ! They are carrying him in, the wound is dangerous." 
 
 She ran to the door, and down the stairs. The Abbe 
 hastened after her, and Wilhelm joined in the pursuit. He 
 saw the lady meet her lover as he entered the house. 
 
 Lothario leaned upon his companion, in whom Wilhelm 
 now recognized his old friend Jarno. He then addressed 
 the afflicted maiden in kind and consoling terms, and plac- 
 ing his hand upon her shoulder, he slowly ascended the 
 stairs, and saluting Wilhelm, he was conducted to his own 
 apartment. 
 
 Jarno returned in a few minutes, and going up to Wilhelm, 
 said, " It seems that you are destined to meet with a theatre 
 and actors every where. We are, at this very moment, engaged 
 in a drama, which is not of the pleasantest description." 
 
 "I am glad to meet with you," answered Wilhelm, "at 
 this strange moment ; I am astonished and terrified, and 
 your presence restores my peace and composure I am 
 already tranquil. But tell me, is there any real danger ? Is 
 the Baron severely wounded?" 
 
 " I believe not," replied Jarno. 
 
 In a short time a young surgeon came from Lothario's 
 apartment. 
 
 " Well, what is your report?" inquired Jarno. 
 
 " It is a serious business," answered the other, as he re- 
 placed several surgical instruments in his leathern case. 
 
 Wilhelm was struck by the appearance of the ribbon 
 which was attached to the surgical case he thought he had 
 seen it before. The colours were bright, and formed a lively 
 contrast, and the gold and silver threads, in which certain 
 figures were embroidered, rendered it easy to distinguish 
 this ribbon from any other. Wilhelm felt certain that it 
 was the surgical case of the professional man who had at- 
 tended him in the wood, and the hope of once more finding 
 some trace of his lovely Amazon, struck like a flame into his 
 inmost soul. 
 
 " Where does that surgical case come from ?" he inquired, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 401 
 
 ; who was its previous owner, I implore of you to tell me ?*' 
 " I purchased it at an auction," answered the stranger, 
 " and it did not concern me to inquire about its previous 
 owner." 80 saying, he went away, whereupon Jarno added, 
 " the surgeon lias not spoken one word of truth." " Then 
 he did not purchase that case," said Wilhelm. " Not at 
 all," replied Jarno, " neither should we be apprehensive 
 about Lothario." 
 
 Wilhelm was lost in a thousand reflections. Jarno asked 
 what he had been doing lately ; whereupon the former gave 
 him an outline of his proceedings, and when, at length he ad- 
 verted to Aurelia's death, Jarno exclaimed, " "Wonderful, 
 indeed, most wonderful." 
 
 The Abbe now came from Lothario's apartment, and 
 having desired Jarno to take his place, he addressed himself 
 to Wilhelm. " The Baron," he said, " desires me to request 
 that you will remain here for a few days, to share his hospi- 
 tality, and to contribute to his comfort, under present circum- 
 stances. If you require to acquaint your friends with your 
 intention, your letter shall be forwarded without delay, and, 
 in the meantime, that you may understand the circumstance 
 which has occurred, and of wfiich you have been partly an 
 eye-witness, I must inform you of something, which is not 
 altogether a secret. The Baron has had a passing adventure 
 with a lady, which has attracted unusual attention, as 
 the latter, having succeeded in carrying him off from a 
 rival, became too vain of her triumph. But he soon 
 wearied of her society and forsook her ; but, as she was a 
 person of violent temper, she did not submit patiently to her 
 disappointment. At length they came to an open rupture 
 at a ball. She asserted that she had been grievously in- 
 sulted, and thirsted lor revenge. But she could procure no 
 knight to espouse her cause ; until, at length, her husband, 
 from whom she has long been separated, heard of the affair 
 and challenged the Baron. He has this day wounded him ; 
 but, I have been informed, that the Colonel himself has sus- 
 tained a serious injury." 
 
 From this time, Wilhelm was treated as if he had belonged 
 to the family. 
 
 2D 
 
402 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 THEY entertained the wounded Lothario by reading to 
 him, and "Wilhelm gladly assisted in the performance of this 
 little service. Lydia never left his bed-side, her care for him 
 absorbed her whole attention, but, as his mind appeared to 
 be engaged to-day, he requested that they would read no 
 farther. 
 
 " I feel to-day most sensibly," he observed, " in what a 
 foolish manner we lose our time. How many things have I 
 undertaken and intended, which I have never completed. 
 How culpably have I delayed the execution of my best pur- 
 poses, t have been just reading over the plan which I had 
 formed for the improvement of my estates, and I must con- 
 fess, that I am on this account especially glad that the bullet 
 did not take a deadlier path." 
 
 Lydia looked at him tenderly, with her eyes suffused with 
 tears, as if she would have inquired whether she herself and 
 his other friends could not lay claim to any interest in his 
 desire to live. Jarno observed, " Alterations, such as you 
 design, require to be minutely examined, before they are 
 finally adopted." 
 
 "Tedious reflections," said Lothario, "generally prove 
 that we do not accurately see the point, which requires our 
 decision hasty proceedings, for the moat part, shew that 
 we do not properly understand it. I perceive, for example, 
 very clearly that, in many respects, I cannot dispense with 
 the services of my dependants, in the management of .my 
 estates, and that I must rigidly exact the performance of 
 certain duties, bnt I observe, at the same time, that there 
 are other things, which, though advantageous to me, are not 
 indispensable, in which favourable alterations might be made. 
 We do not always lose an advantage when we dispense with 
 it. Do I not derive more benefit from my property than 
 my father did ? And ought I alone to enjoy this increasing 
 advantage ? Should I deny to those who labour for me 
 some share in the profit, which I derive from expanded 
 knowledge and improving times ?" 
 
 " It is the same with all men," cried Jarno, "and I never 
 blame myself, when I detect a selfish spirit in my conduct. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 403 
 
 Every man loves to see himself surrounded by abundance 
 in which he may riot at pleasure and he seldom thinks his 
 money properly employed, when he does not spend it with 
 his own hands." 
 
 " O, yes," replied Wilhelm, " we could save much of our 
 capital, if we laid out our interest more prudently." 
 
 " The only observation which I wish to make," said Jarno, 
 " the only advice which I have to offer, in opposition to those 
 improvements which you contemplate, and which for a time, 
 at least, must be unprofitable to you, is that you are in debt, 
 and that the payment presses. I, therefore, recommend you 
 to postpone your plan, till you are fully free." 
 
 " And, in the interim, a bullet or an accidental tile may 
 annihilate for ever the result of a whole life's activity. O ! 
 my friend," continued Lothario, " it is the capital fault of all 
 cultivated men, that they devote their whole energies to the 
 carrying out of a mere idea, and seldom or never, to the rea- 
 lisation of some practical good. Why have I incurred 
 debts ? Why have I quarrelled with my uncle, and left my 
 sisters so long dependent upon themselves ? For the grati- 
 fication of a mere idea. I fancied that I should lead an 
 life in America that, across the seas, my existence 
 might become necessary and useful. Unless the task which 
 I had to accomplish were surrounded by danger, I considered 
 it trivial and unimportant. But how different do all things 
 now appear to me, when I recognize the duty which is imme- 
 diate, as that alone which possesses any worth or value." 
 
 " I well remember the letter," said Jarno, "which you 
 transmitted to us across the Channel. You wrote as 
 follows : ' I will return, and in my own house, upon my 
 own property, among my own people, I will say, Here or 
 nowhere is America.' " 
 
 " Yes, my friend, and I repeat the same expression, and 
 I censure myself that I am not as industrious here as I was 
 there. For a certain uniform and continuous mode of life, 
 nothing more than judgment is required, and we need seek 
 for nothing more. We then cease to observe the extraor- 
 dinary actions which each unimportant day requires from us, 
 or when we do observe them, we find a thousand excuses for 
 their non-performance. A man of understanding is valuable 
 to his own interests, but of little value to general welfare." 
 
404 WILHELM MEISTEJl's 
 
 " We must not bear too hard upon judgment and under- 
 standing," answered Jarno, " and we must admit that extra- 
 ordinary actions are generally foolish." 
 
 " I agree with you, and for this reason that extraordinary 
 things are seldom done in conformity with a proper plan. 
 My brother-in-law, intends, as far as he is able, to devote 
 his whole fortune to the Society of Herrnhuthers, and he 
 fancies that he will thereby save his soul had he sacrificed 
 only a small portion of his fortune, he would have rendered 
 many individuals happy, and have secured for himself a 
 heaven upoii earth. The sacrifices which we make are 
 seldom active we abandon what we give away we renounce 
 our property from motives of despair, and not from resolu- 
 tion. I must confess that to-day, the image of the Count 
 is perpetually before my eyes, and I have resolved to do, 
 from motives of conviction/ what a morbid delusion is 
 exacting from him. I will not wait for the moment of 
 recovery from sickness. Here are the necessary papers, 
 they require only to be copied out fairly. Take a lawyer 
 with you our guest will also contribute his assistance. 
 You know my intentions fully ; and now r , whether I recover 
 or die, I shall adhere to my resolution, and exclaim, l Here, 
 or nowhere, is the Community of Herrnhuthers !' " 
 
 When Lydia heard her friend speak of dying, she flung 
 herself down before the bed, seized his arm, and wept 
 bitterly. The surgeon now entered, upon which Jarno 
 handed the papers to Wilhelm, and motioned to Lydia to 
 retire. 
 
 " For heaven's sake," cried Wilhelm, as soon as they were 
 alone, "what do you say about the Count ? What is 
 the name of the Count who, you say, speaks of joining the 
 Society of Herrnhuthers ?" 
 
 " One whom you are well acquainted with," answered 
 Jarno: " You are the apparition that has driven him to 
 seek refuge in a life of piety. You are the culprit \yho has 
 reduced his pretty wife to such a state, that she is resolved 
 to accompany him." 
 
 "And she is Lothario's sister !" cried Wilhelm. 
 
 " No other." 
 
 " And Lothario knows " 
 
 "Everything." 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 405 
 
 " ! let me begone," cried Wilhelm. " How can I now 
 appear before him ? What will he say ?" 
 
 " That no man should ever cast a stone at his neigh- 
 bour; that when one composes long speeches to make 
 another person blush, he should recite them before a look- 
 ing glass." 
 
 " Then you know the whole transaction." 
 
 <{ And much besides," replied Jarno, with a smile. " But 
 upon this occasion," he continued, " I shall not let you off 
 so easily as before, and now you have nothing to fear from 
 my recruiting money. I have ceased to be a soldier, though 
 even as a member of that profession, your opinion of me 
 might have been more charitable. Many changes have 
 occurred since we met each other last. In consequence of 
 the death of my Prince, my only friend and benefactor, I 
 have retired from the world, and from all earthly affairs. It 
 was always my delight to promote what was reasonable, to 
 express my opinion freely about despicable things, and the 
 world had never much to fear from my restless head or from my 
 unlicensed tongue. The common herd dread a sound under- 
 standing, whereas they ought to tremble at stupidity, if they 
 could but know what is really fearful, but the former is in- 
 convenient and must be thrust aside, the latter is pernicious 
 and therefore may remain. But be it so. I must live, and 
 you shall hear my plans presently. You shall share in them 
 if you please. But tell me first, how have you fared ? I 
 can see and feel that you are much changed. What has 
 become of your old fancy to produce something beautiful 
 and good in a society of gipsies?" 
 
 " I have been punished sufficiently," replied Wilhelm. 
 " Do not inquire whence I come or whither I am going ? 
 Persons talk about the stage, but only those who have trod 
 the boards, can form any proper idea of its evils. It is im- 
 possible to describe how completely actors are ignorant of 
 themselves, how boundless are their pretensions, and how 
 thoughtlessly they pursue their avocations. Each would 
 not only be the first, but the sole hero, he endeavours to 
 exclude all competitors, and does not see that even with 
 their assistance, he can hardly accomplish anything impor- 
 tant. Each one fancies that he is original, and in spite of 
 
406 WILHELM MElSTEIl's 
 
 his appetite for novelty, he can scarcely quit the old and 
 well-remembered beaten track. "With what untiring zeal do 
 they oppose each other ; and they are ofteft kept together 
 by the narrowest views of interest by the most contemp- 
 tible feeling of self-love. They never dream of rendering 
 mutual favours ; and secret calumny and shameful slander 
 keep incessant jealousy alive amongst them. They are 
 either dissipated or foolish in their habits. They all claim 
 the most exalted respect, and they are keenly apprehensive 
 of the slightest censure. ' All that he knew before !' he 
 will tell you. And why then has he followed the very 
 opposite course ? Ever in want and ever unconfiding, it 
 would seem that they never feared anything so much as 
 reason and good taste, and never sought for anything so 
 earnestly as to preserve the majesty of their own self-will." 
 
 Wilhelm paused, for a moment, to draw breath, intending 
 to continue his observations, but an immoderate fit of 
 laughter from Jarno made him pause. " Poor actors !" ex- 
 claimed the latter, as he threw himself into a chair, and 
 continued to laugh heartily, " the poor kind souls ! do you 
 know, my friend, that, in describing the stage, you have 
 drawn a veritable picture of the world, and that every con- 
 dition of life will supply you with characters and actors 
 enough to suit your severe pencil. Pardon me ! but I 
 cannot refrain from laughing that you should suppose all 
 those amiable qualities to be confined to the stage alone." 
 
 Wilhelm said nothing , but Jarno's loud and inopportune 
 laughter had really offended him. "You must avow your 
 hatred of mankind," he continued, "when you assert that 
 the failings which you have described are general, and it 
 proves your ignorance of the world, that you attach such 
 importance to those theatrical infirmities. I am always 
 ready to excuse an actor for those faults, which spring from 
 self-deception and a desire to please, for he must fail if he 
 does not appear to be something in his own estimation and 
 in the eyes of others. The whole object of his life is to 
 seem, and he ought to prize his momentary applause at a 
 high rate as he never receives any other reward. He must 
 endeavour to attract notice, as that is the end of his 
 existence." 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 407 
 
 cc You must permit me," said Wilhelm, " at least to smile 
 at your observations. I could never have supposed you 
 capable of so much mercy and toleration." 
 
 " I repeat that I have expressed my perfect and deliberate 
 conviction. In the actor, I can pardon every human fault, 
 but I cannot excuse mankind when they commit an actor's 
 errors. Do not ask my opinion of mankind. My strain of 
 woe would probably be more pitiful than yours." 
 
 The surgeon now made his appearance, and to the inquiry, 
 " How his patient felt ?" he replied, with an air of easy 
 cheerfulness, " he is going on very well, and I have reason 
 to hope that he will soon be quite restored." He hastened 
 away speedily, without waiting for Wilhelm's farther ques- 
 tions, as the latter was on the point of making some pressing 
 and earnest inquiries about the surgical case. His anxiety 
 to learn something more about his Amazon, caused him now 
 to confide in Jarno, he made him acquainted with all the 
 and implored his assistance. " You already know so 
 much," he said, " that you ought not to remain ignorant of 
 this." 
 
 Jarno reflected for an instant, and then turning to "Wil- 
 helm, observed, " Be calm, say nothing of this affair, and 
 I doubt not we shall come upon the track of your fair 
 friend. At the present moment I am troubled about 
 Lothario's state it is a dangerous business, and I am con- 
 vinced of this, by the friendly manner and consoling words 
 of the surgeon. I should like to send Lydia away, for she 
 can render no assistance here, but I do not well know how 
 to effect my object. I expect to have an interview with an 
 old physician this evening, and we shall discuss the matter 
 together." 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 THE physician came. He was the good, old, little doctor 
 whose acquaintance we have already made, and to whom 
 we are indebted for the perusal of the interesting ma- 
 nuscript. His first step was to visit the wounded man, 
 and he appeared by no means satisfied with his condition. 
 
408 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 He afterwards held a long conference with Jarno, but they 
 mentioned nothing of its nature, when they sat down to 
 supper in the evening. 
 
 Wilhelm welcomed him in the kindest manner, and made 
 inquiries about the Harper. *' We still entertain some 
 hopes of restoring the poor creature to his reason," replied 
 the physician. " He must have formed a sad episode in 
 your strange life," observed Jarno. " What is the matter 
 with him ? I should like to know his story." 
 
 After he had satisfied Jarno' s curiosity, the physician 
 continued, " I have never seen a person in so strange a 
 state. For many years he has not taken the smallest 
 interest in external things, or paid the least attention to 
 them. Wrapped up in his own contemplations, he has 
 thought of nothing but his own hollow empty self, into 
 wliich lie has looked as into a profound abyss. How affect- 
 ing has it been, when he has spoken to us of his melancholy 
 condition. * I see nothing before me, and nothing behind 
 nu\' he would say, 'but endless night, where I am wrapt in 
 the most dreary solitude; I have no feeling but the con- 
 sciousness of guilt, which never ceases to appear before me 
 like a distant, shapeless spirit, and yet I behold no height, 
 no depth, no forwards, no backwards. O ! no words can 
 express my dreary changeless state. Often in the anguish 
 of this perpetual monotony, I exclaim, " For ever ! for 
 ever!" and these wonderful and incomprehensible words 
 become plain and clear to the darkness of my understand- 
 ing. No ray of a Deity illumines my mental night. I pour 
 all my tears to myself and for myself. Nothing is more 
 hateful to me than friendship and love, for nothing else 
 awakens within me a wish that these apparitions may be 
 real. But both these spirits have risen from the abyss to 
 torment me, and to rol/me of the precious consciousness of 
 my terrible existence.' ' 
 
 " You should hear him speak," continued the physician, 
 " when, in confidential moments, he endeavours thus to 
 alleviate his heart. I have often listened to him with the 
 deepest emotion. When any sorrow compels him to confess 
 for an instant that time flies he seems lost in astonish- 
 ment, and attributes the change to the things by which he 
 is surrounded, considering it as an appearance of appearances. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 409 
 
 One night lie sang a song about his own grey hairs and we 
 all sat round him and wept." 
 
 " Procure it for me !" cried Wilhelm. " Have you never 
 thought of tracing the origin of what he calls his crime, 
 and of thus accounting for his strange dress, and his singular 
 conduct at the fire, as well as his behaviour towards the 
 child ?" 
 
 " We can do no more than form conjectures upon this 
 subject; to make direct inquiries about such a matter 
 would be in violation of our principles. Conceiving him to 
 be a Catholic, we thought he might obtain some relief from 
 confession, but he shudders whenever we attempt to intro- 
 duce a priest to him. But, that your desire to learn some- 
 thing about him, may not remain wholly unsatisfied, I may 
 inform you of our suspicions. We are of opinion that in 
 his youth he was a priest, and hence, perhaps, arises his fancy 
 for dressing in a loii cloak and for wearing a beard. He ap- 
 pears to have been for many years a stranger to the joys of 
 love. We think that subsequently a liaison, formed with 
 some near relation, and her consequent death, after she had 
 become a mother, may have turned his brain. 
 
 " His greatest delusion consists in believing that he causes 
 misfortune every where, and that his death will be occasioned 
 by some innocent boy. He was afraid of Mignon, when he 
 first became acquainted with her, in ignorance that she was 
 a girl ; then Felix terrified him, and as, in spite of his un- 
 happiness he dearly loves his life, this may have occasioned 
 his dislike to the child." 
 
 " Have you any hopes of his recovery ?" asked Wilhelm. 
 
 " He makes but slow progress," replied the physician, 
 " but he does not, at all events, become worse. He pursues 
 his wonted amusements, and we have accustomed him of late 
 to read the newspapers, and he looks for them with the 
 greatest anxiety." 
 
 " lam curious to know something of his songs," observed 
 Jarno. 
 
 " I can undertake to procure several of them for you," 
 replied the physician. "The eldest son of our clergyman, 
 who frequently copies out his father's sermons, has, without 
 the Harper's knowledge, written down several stanzas of 
 
410 WILHELM MEISTEll's 
 
 his songs, and we have, from time to time, arranged them in 
 some sort of order." 
 
 On the following morning, Jarno met Wilhelm, and said, 
 " You must do us a favour. It becomes necessary that 
 Lydia should be removed. Her strong affection for the 
 Baron, which, I may say, amounts to unreasonable love and 
 passion, impedes his recovery. He requires rest and tran- 
 quillity, and with his healthy constitution, his wound cannot 
 of itself be considered dangerous. But you have seen how 
 Lydia distresses him with her anxieties, her terrors, and her 
 incessant tears ; and, moreover But enough of this," he 
 added with a smile, after a moment's pause, " our physician 
 insists that she must leave him for a time. We have per- 
 suaded her that a lady, one of her most intimate friends, 
 wishes to see her, and expects a visit from her. She has just 
 consented to take a drive to her lawyer's, who lives about 
 two^ leagues distant from us. He is prepared to see her : he 
 will express his regret that Fraiilein Theresa should have 
 just left his house, but will seem to think that she may be 
 overtaken. Lydia will thereupon set out after her, and if 
 fortune favours us, she will be driven from place to place. 
 Should she insist at length upon returning, she must not be 
 opposed, but the night will soon prove our friend. The coach- 
 man is a clever fellow, and we must furnish him with proper 
 instructions. You, Wilhelm, must consent to accompany 
 her upon this journey, during which, you can entertain her, 
 and direct the entire proceedings/' 
 
 " This is a strange and somewhat hazardous commission 
 for me to undertake," replied Wilhelm, " I know how paiu- 
 ful is the sight of, injured love, and am I to be employed for 
 the purpose ? It will be the first time that I have deceived 
 any person in this manner, and I have always thought that 
 if we begin deceiving, even for good and beneficial purposes, 
 we may very easily go too far." 
 
 "But can we educate children in any other manner ?" 
 inquired Jarno. 
 
 " It may be a proper course to follow with children," 
 replied Wilhelm, " which our affection for them may excuse ; 
 but it may be dangerous to practise it with our equals, as 
 our hearts may not then teach us proper forbearance. But 
 do not suppose," he added, after a short pause, " that I in- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 411 
 
 tend, on this account, to decline the task. The honour I 
 entertain for your judgment, my feelings of attachment for 
 your noble friend, and my anxiety to contribute to his reco- 
 \ vry, by every means in my power, may easily render me 
 forgetful of myself. It is not enough to risk our life for a 
 friend, in the hour of trial, we should also surrender our 
 opinions for his service. It is our duty to sacrifice our 
 dearest passions, and our fondest wishes, for his benefit. I 
 undertake the task, although T can anticipate the anguish 
 which I shall endure from the tears and despair of Lydia." 
 
 " And in return for this, you will be richly rewarded/' 
 answered Jarno. " Fraulein Theresa is a lady whose attrac- 
 tions it would be difficult to equal. She puts many a man 
 to shame. I may term her a real Amazon, though it is true 
 others may assume the title." 
 
 The new, near hope of once more beholding that loved and 
 honoured form, awoke in Wilhelm's bosom a thousand strange 
 emotions. He considered the task which had been entrusted 
 to him, as a special intervention of Providence, and the 
 thought that he was employed to carry off a poor maiden, 
 from the object of her strong and virtuous attachment, dwelt 
 but for a moment in his mind, as the shadow of a bird flits 
 across the -sun-illumined earth. 
 
 The carriage drew up before the door, and Lydia hesitated 
 for a moment to take her seat. " Salute your master once 
 more for me," she said to the old servant who attended her, 
 " and assure him that I shall return before evening." The 
 tears stood in her eyes, as she looked round again, before the 
 departure of the carriage. She turned to Wilhelm with an 
 effort to compose herself, and observed, " You will find the 
 Fraulein Theresa a very interesting person. I wonder what 
 can induce her to visit this neighbourhood, for you must 
 know that she was once deeply attached to the Baron. Not- 
 withstanding the distance at which she resides, Lothario 
 visited her frequently. I was at that period very much in 
 her society, and I thought they could have died for each 
 other. Suddenly, however, their love was shattered to pieces, 
 and no one could ever discern the cause. Lothario had seen 
 me, and I must admit that I envied Theresa's happiness, that 
 I did not seek to conceal my affection from him, and when he 
 evinced a wish that I should fill Theresa's place, I did not 
 
412 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 reject him. Her conduct towards me was kind in the ex- 
 treme, though I could not deny that I had robbed her of her 
 fond lover. But how bitterly have I expiated that love with 
 a thousand pains aod tears ! At first, we met privately at 
 an appointed place, but I could not long endure that mode 
 of life, as it was only in his presence that I could feel myself 
 perfectly happy. When separated from him my pulse beat 
 wildly, and my eye was never dry. Upon one occasion, he 
 absented himself for several days, and I was reduced to a 
 state bordering upon despair, but I followed him and sur- 
 prised him here. He received me affection at rly, and but for 
 this unfortunate quarrel, my existence with him would have 
 been a perfect paradise. But I cannot describe my suffer- 
 ings since he has been in pain and danger, and at this mo- 
 ment, I am bitterly reproaching myself for being able to 
 leave him for a single day." 
 
 Wilhelm was proceeding to make further inquiries about 
 Theresa, when they reached their destination. The lawyer 
 came out to meet them, and expressed his cordial regret 
 that Fraiilein Theresa had already left his house. He invited 
 them to breakfast, assuring them that they might evertake 
 the lady's carriage in the next village. They determined, 
 however, toproceedat once, and the coachman made no delay. 
 Before long, they had passed through several villages, but as 
 yet they had met with no one. Lydia requested to be driven 
 uack, but the coachman affected not to understand her and 
 pursued his course. But when she insisted resolutely, 
 Wilhelm called to him, and gave the concerted sign. The 
 coachman replied that they could return by a different road, 
 as he knew one which was nearer and more convenient. He 
 then drove them through a wood and over an extensive com- 
 mon. At length, when they found themselves in a strange 
 country, he confessed that he had lost his way, but that he 
 could soon find it again, as he perceived a village at a short 
 distance before him. The night now came on, and the coach- 
 man managed so cleverly, that he made a multitude of inqui- 
 ries, but never waited to receive an answer. He drove 
 along all night. Lydia, meanwhile, never closed her eyes, 
 in the moon-light she saw resemblances every where, but 
 they quickly disappeared. But in the morning she once 
 more recognized surrounding objects, but they appeared 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 413 
 
 more strange to her on that account. At length the car- 
 riage drew up before a small and pretty country house. A 
 young lady made her appearance and opened the carriage 
 door. Lydia stared at her, looked round, surveyed her 
 again, ano! then swooned away in "Wilhelm's arms. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "\VILHELM was taken to an upper chamber. The house 
 was new and very small, but as clean and orderly as possible. 
 But Theresa, who had met him and Lydia at the door, was 
 not his Amazon. She was, indeed, a very different descrip- 
 tion of person. Well-formed but slender, she moved about 
 with great activity, and the candid expression of her clear 
 blue eyes shewed that she was alive td every thing that 
 occurred. 
 
 Upon entering Wilhelm's apartment, she inquired whether 
 he wanted any thing? " Pardon me," she said, " for having 
 i you an apartment which is disagreeable from the smell 
 of paint, but my little mansion has only just been finished, 
 and you are the first person to occupy this room, which I 
 have appointed for my guests. I wish that your business 
 were of a more pleasant nature. We shall not have much 
 comfort with poor Lydia, and you will find many things to 
 excuse in our arrangements. My cook, for instance, has 
 just left me at a most inconvenient moment, and my man- 
 servant has lately injured his hand. It may be necessary, 
 therefore, that I should manage every thing myself, and if 
 so, we must be content. There can be no greater plague 
 than servants. They will attend to no one, not even to them- 
 selves." 
 
 She said a great deal more about many other things, 
 and seemed to have a taste for chattering. Wilhelm in- 
 quired for Lydia, and asked whether the kind-hearted 
 maiden would consent to see him that he might offer hia 
 excuses ? 
 
414 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 <; You must not expect to succeed in that way just at 
 present/' answered Theresa. " Time will excuse you, as it 
 comforts her. For such purposes, words are but of little 
 avail. Lydia will not receive you. 'Let him not shew 
 himself/ she cried, as I left her apartment, ' I shall henceforth 
 despair of human nature. So noble a countenance, so much 
 frankness in his deportment, aud yet this secret guile !' 
 Lothario is quite forgiven ; he has written to her, saying, 
 ' My friends persuaded me my friends compelled me !' and 
 amongst the number, Lydia reckons you, and condemns you 
 with the rest." 
 
 " She honours me too highly by censuring me," was Wil- 
 helm's reply. " I can lay no claim to the friendship of that 
 distinguished man. I am only a guiltless instrument in 
 his hands. But I do not seek to defend my conduct it is 
 sufficient to have acted thus. I was influenced by my regard 
 for the health, the life of a person, whom I value more 
 than I have ever prized a human being. O, what a man 
 ->, Fraiilein, and by what men he is surrounded ! In 
 their society, I may truly say, I have first learned the value 
 of conversation. For the first time, I have heard the inmost 
 sense of my words re-echoed by the rich, full, and compre- 
 hensive observations of another. My own indistinct ideas 
 have been rendered clear to me, and I have been taught to 
 understand my own thoughts. Unfortunately, this delight 
 was at first interrupted by cares and anxieties, and at 
 length, by this distressing adventure. I undertook it with 
 reluctance, but I considered it a duty, even at the cost of 
 iny own feelings, to oblige this distinguished circle of men." 
 
 Theresa had, in the mean time, been regarding him in a 
 very friendly manner. " O, how sweet it is/' she said, " to 
 have our own convictions expressed by the lips of another 
 person! We only then become ourselves, when another 
 understands us thoroughly. My opinion of Lothario agrees 
 precisely with yours. He is not appreciated by everybody, 
 but all those who know him well, are enthusiastic in his 
 praises, and the deep feeling of pain with which I dwell 
 upon his memory, cannot prevent me from thinking of him 
 daily." Her bosom heaved with sorrow as she spoke thus, 
 and her eye was dimmed with a lovely tear. " Do not sup- 
 pose," she continued, " that I am so weak as to be easily 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 41 5 
 
 moved. It is but my eye that weeps. I have suffered from 
 weakness of sight, and the slightest cause occasions a tear 
 to rise/' She pointed to her eye. He looked closely, but he 
 could detect no appearance of weakness. But he saw into 
 her eye : it was as clear as crystal : he almost thought he 
 could see into the very depths of her soul. 
 
 " A friendship is now established between us," she ob- 
 iverved, " let us become thoroughly intimate as soon as pos- 
 sible. The character of every man is known by his history. 
 I will relate to you all that has happened to me ; impart to 
 me a little of your confidence in return, and let us for the 
 future bo united, even when distance separates us. The 
 world is, indeed, a waste, when we see nothing in it but 
 mountains, rivers, and towns, but when we know that it con- 
 tains friends whose sentiments accord with our own, and 
 with whom we live in secret and silent intercourse, this 
 Idy ball is converted into a peopled garden." 
 
 She took a hasty leave of him, promising, however, to 
 
 accompany him before long in a friendly walk. He had found 
 
 resence very agreeable, and he was anxious to know the 
 
 nature of her connection with Lothario. He was soon 
 
 called, and she came from her apartment to meet him. 
 
 They were obliged to descend the narrow staircase sepa- 
 7-atel y,' whereupon she observed, " This house might have 
 been upon a larger and more expensive scale, if I had only 
 acceded to the request of your generous friend, but in 
 order to secure his good esteem, I should preserve those 
 qualities which made me valuable to him. Where is the 
 ird ?" she then inquired, adding, however, immedi- 
 attlv, " You must not suppose that I am so rich as to 
 keep a steward. I am able myself to superintend the few 
 acres of land which I possess. The steward belongs to 
 my neighbour, who has purchased the adjoining property. 
 I am well acquainted with it. The kind old man is ill 
 with the gout, his people are near to this place, and I 
 them the benefit of my advice." 
 
 They walked through the fields and meadows, and pur- 
 sued their course through the orchards. Theresa instructed 
 the steward in every thing. She could render an account 
 of every detail, and Wilhelm was astonished at her know- 
 ledge and decision, as well as at the readiness with which 
 
416 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 in every extremity, she could provide expedients. She never 
 hesitated, always applied herself to the chief points, and 
 thus dispatched the business which she had in hand. 
 " Salute your master for me," she said, as she dismissed the 
 steward, " I intend to pay him a visit as soon as possible, 
 that I may wish him a complete recovery. There," she 
 added with a smile, as soon as he had disappeared, " I might 
 soon become rich and prosperous. I know that my kind 
 neighbour is not disinclined to offer me his hand." 
 
 "What! the old man with the gout!" exclaimed Wil- 
 helm, " I could scarcely suppose that, at your years, you 
 could entertain such an idea." " I have not been tempted 
 as yet," answered Theresa, " every man possesses a compe- 
 tence who has sufficient for his duties ; riches entail burdens 
 upon those who do not understand them." 
 
 Wilhelm expressed his surprise at her knowledge of hus- 
 bandry. " Strong inclination, early opportunity, outward 
 impulse and uninterrupted employment in a useful pursuit, 
 render many difficult things easily practicable in lite," ob- 
 served Theresa, " and if you only knew what first impelled 
 me to my present course, you would not feel astonished at 
 the talent which you consider so remarkable." 
 
 Upon their return to the house, she introduced him to 
 her little garden, in which he could scarcely turn, the walks 
 wore so narrow, and the planting was so thick and abundant. 
 He could not avoid smiling, as he walked across the yard. 
 The fire-wood was so accurately sawed, and split and piled, 
 that it seemed to form a part of the building, and looked as 
 if it was intended to remain there for ever. The clean vessels 
 Avere all standing in order in their places, and the house 
 itself was painted in white and red colours, and was pretty 
 to behold. All those things which shorten labour, and whose 
 value consists less in their beauty, than in their durability 
 and convenience, were united together in one place. 
 
 Wilhelm' s dinner was brought to him in his apartment, 
 and he had time enough to indulge in meditation. It seemed 
 to him extraordinary, that he should have become acquainted 
 with another person of so interesting a character, who had 
 been so intimate a friend of Lothario. " But it is only 
 natural," he observed to himself, " that so distinguished a 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 417 
 
 person should attract to himself the society of distinguished 
 women. How far the influence of manliness and dignity 
 extends ! O that some persons were not so deficient in 
 these qualities ! Yes, confess thy fear. Whenthou meetest 
 thine Amazon once again, that incomparable woman, thou 
 wilt find in spite of all thy hopes and dreams, that to thy 
 shame and humiliation, she is his bride. " 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 WILHELM had spent a restless and wearisome afternoon, 
 when towards evening a handsome youth, dressed in a hunt- 
 ing attire, entered his apartment and bowed to him with a 
 smile. " Shall we take a walk ?" he inquired, when Wilhelm 
 instantly recognised Theresa's beautiful eyes. 
 
 " You must excuse this appearance of masquerade," she 
 continued, " for unfortunately every thing is now but mas- 
 querade ! And as I am about to tell you of the times when 
 1 was happy in this world, it is my wish to recall those days 
 by every means in my power. Come, then ! even the place 
 where we have so often rested from our hunting and our 
 promenades shall contribute its assistance." 
 
 They proceeded on their way, whilst Theresa thus ad- 
 dressed her companion : " It is not right that you should let 
 me have all the conversation to myself, you know sufficient 
 of me already, whilst I have learned nothing whatsoever of 
 you. Tell me, therefore, something about yourself, that I 
 may acquire courage to communicate my history to you." 
 
 " Alas! " said Wilhelm, I should have nothing to relate but 
 errors and mistakes, heaped one upon another, and I know 
 not from whom I ought rather to conceal the embarrassments 
 into which I have fallen than from you. Your look, and 
 everything about you, your whole deportment and your con- 
 duct, convince me that you have en joyed your past existence, 
 that your fair and pure course of life has been one of unin- 
 terrupted progress, that you have not uselessly squandered 
 your time, and that you have no self-reproaches to endure," 
 
 Theresa smilingly replied, " We shall sec if your opinion 
 
 2 E 
 
418 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 will continue the same, when you have heard my history." 
 They continued their walk, and Theresa asked him, among 
 other things, " Are you disengaged?" " I believe I am," 
 he answered, " though I could wish it were otherwise." 
 " Good!" she said, "that indicates a complicated romance, 
 and whispers that you have something to relate." 
 
 So saying, they ascended a steep hill, and laid themselves 
 down beneath a large oak tree, which spread its shadow far 
 and wide in every direction. " Here, then," said Theresa, 
 " beneath this German tree I will recount to you the history 
 of a German maiden only hear me with patience. 
 
 " My father was an affluent nobleman of this province, a 
 cheerful, clear, active and intelligent man, a tender parent, 
 an attached friend, and an excellent economist, in whom I 
 could only recognize one fault that he was too compliant 
 towards my mother, who did not know his value. Unfor- 
 tunately, 1 must confess this much of my mother. She was 
 sudden, inconstant, and without any affection for her house 
 or for me, her only child ; extravagant, but beautiful, intelli- 
 gent, full of talent, and the charm of the circle which she 
 had attracted round her. Her companions were not 
 numerous, nor did she retain them long. For they consisted 
 chiefly of men, as no woman ever felt comfortable in her 
 society, and she could never endure the appearance of the 
 smallest merit in any of her sex. I resembled my father in 
 my outward form, as well as in my disposition. As the 
 young duck runs to the water instantly upon its birth, my 
 earliest attachment was to the kitchen, the store-room, the 
 granaries and the provision cellars. The order and cleanli- 
 ness of the house, even during my hours of play, seemed to 
 be my principal attraction and my only instinct. This de- 
 lighted my father, and he gradually gave every encourage- 
 ment to my early propensities. My mother, on the contrary, 
 did not love me, and made no secret of ner aversion. 
 
 " As I grew up my own active qualities and my father's 
 love increased. When we were alone, or when we walked 
 through the fields, or when I helped him to examine his 
 accounts, I could perceive his happiness. When I looked 
 into his eyes, I felt as if I were gazing upon myself, for it 
 was in the eyes that our chief resemblance was observable. 
 But he lost his cheerfulness of expression in the presence of 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 419 
 
 my mother lie defended me gently when she treated me 
 with injustice and violence, and he would take my part, not 
 as though it were his intention to protect me, but as if he 
 would excuse my good qualities. He offered no opposition 
 to any of her fancies. When, upon one occasion, she was 
 seized with a passion for the stage, a private theatre was im- 
 mediately erected, and though she easily found men, of all 
 ages and conditions, to take part with her in the performances, 
 there was generally a great deficiency of actresses. Lydia, at 
 that time a pretty girl, who had been brought up with me, and 
 who from her earliest years had promised to be extremely 
 beautiful, was induced to take the secondary parts an old 
 rlinmber-maid played the mothers and aunts, whilst my 
 mother reserved lor herself all the principal heroines, the 
 !\s and the shepherdesses of every kind. I cannot describe 
 the strange effect which was produced upon me to see the per- 
 formers, whom I knew so intimately, disguised and standing 
 on the stage, and passing for something else than what they 
 really were. I could recognize in them no other persons 
 than Lydia or my mother, this baron or that secretary, 
 whether they appeared in the disguise of princes, counts or 
 peasants, and I could never conceive how they could expect 
 me to believe that they were sad or happy, in love or in 
 despair, liberal or parsimonious, when I so often knew the 
 very contrary to be the case. On this account, I seldom 
 formed one of the spectators. I employed myself, however, 
 in snuffing the candles, that I might not be wholly un- 
 occupied. I prepared the supper, and in the morning, whilst 
 the actors were still asleep, I arranged their dresses which 
 I generally found that they had left in confusion and dis- 
 order. 
 
 " Though my mother approved of my activity, I could not 
 win her love. She despised me, and I heard her more than 
 once exclaim with bitterness, * If the mother were not better 
 known than the father, this girl would scarcely be taken for 
 my daughter.' I must acknowledge that her treatment of 
 me gradually estranged my affections I regarded her actions 
 as I would have done those of a stranger ; and as I was ac- 
 customed to watch our servants like a hawk (and let me 
 observe, that herein lies the essence of all housekeeping) I 
 naturally paid particular attention to the motions of my 
 
420 WILHELM ^IEISTER'S 
 
 mother and her friends. It was quite evident that she did 
 not regard all men with indifferent eyes. I watched more 
 closely, and soon observed that Lydiawas her confidant, and 
 that she had thus been made more intimately acquainted 
 with a passion, which, from her earliest years, she had so often 
 represented. I was acquainted with all her assignations, 
 but I concealed them from my father, as I was afraid of being 
 the occasion to him of severe distress, but at length I was 
 compelled to speak out. Some of their plans could not be 
 accomplished, without bribes previously distributed amongst 
 the servants. The latter, therefore, soon became disrespect- 
 ful, they neglected my father's orders, and refused to obey 
 my commands, and as the confusion which ensued was in- 
 supportable, I discovered everything to my father. 
 
 " Hi' list (iicd to me patiently. ' My good child !' he said 
 at length, with a smile, ' I know it all. But be calm have 
 patience since it is only for your sake that I endure it.' 
 
 " I was not calm, I was not patient I condemned my father 
 in my own mind, for I thought that nothing should have in- 
 duced him to submit to such conduct. I insisted that order 
 should be maintained in the household, and I was deter- 
 mined that the present state of things should not continue. 
 
 " My mother had a large private fortune, but she was more 
 extravagant than she ought to have been ; and I had observed 
 that this circumstance had occasioned some disagreements 
 between my parents. These lasted for a considerable time, 
 until at length the passions of my mother brought the evil 
 to a climax. 
 
 "Her first lover was glaringly untrue, whereupon she became 
 disgusted with her house, as well as with the entire neigh- 
 bourhood, arid with her own condition. She wished to retire to 
 a different residence there she was too lonely she removed 
 to town there she did not think herself sufficiently appre^ 
 ciated. I know not what occurred afterwards between her 
 and my father ; but, suffice it to say, that it was at length 
 determined, under certain conditions, with which I am unac- 
 quainted, that she should take a journey to the south of 
 France. 
 
 " We were now free, and lived as if we were denizens of 
 Paradise ; and I do not think my father would have been a 
 loser, even if he had purchased her absence with a consider- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 421 
 
 able sura. Our useless servants were dismissed, fortune 
 seemed to smile upon our efforts ; we had several good years 
 in succession, and all things prospered according to our 
 wishes. But, unfortunately, this happiness was but of short 
 duration ; my father was suddenly seized with palsy, which 
 attacked his right side, and deprived him of the power of 
 speech. We were obliged to guess at every thing he wanted, 
 for he could never express the words which he intended to 
 utter. Oftentimes this was to me fearfully distressing, par- 
 ticularly upon occasions when he insisted upon being left 
 alone with me. he would signify, by violent gestures, that 
 every other person should retire ; but when we were left 
 together, he found himself unable to express his thoughts. 
 His impatience then became extreme, and his distress was 
 deeply afflicting. This much seemed certain that there was 
 something which he was anxious to confide to me of the 
 utmost importance to myself. I cannot express the anxiety 
 which I felt to know it. Formerly I could see his wishes in 
 his eyes but this was no longer the case. His eyes no 
 longer spoke. And yet he needed nothing he wanted 
 nothing but he was anxious to acquaint me with something 
 which I could not understand. His infirmity gradually in- 
 cd ; and in a short time he became wholly inactive and 
 insensible ; and shortly afterwards he died. 
 
 " I know not how it happened, but I became convinced that 
 my father had concealed a valuable treasure somewhere, 
 which he had been anxious to bequeath to me rather than to 
 my mother. I made active search for it during his life-time, 
 but 1 found nothing ; and after his death every thing was put 
 under seal. I wrote to my mother, and offered to remain in 
 the house as her agent, but she rejected my offer, and I was 
 obliged to take my departure. My father's will was now 
 produced, by which my mother succeeded to the possession 
 and enjoyment of every thing, and I was left dependent upon 
 her during her life. And now, for the first time, I thought 
 that I could understand my father's object. I pitied his 
 weakness, in allowing himself to act so unjustly towards me. 
 Some of my friends wished me to contest the will, saying, 
 that it was little better than if he had disinherited me ; but 
 I was unwilling to take this step. I respected my father's 
 memory too highly I confided in my destiny I confided in 
 myself. 
 
422 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 "I had, for a long time, enjoyed an intimacy with a lady 
 who possessed a large property in our neighbourhood. She 
 received me gladly, and I soon acquired sufficient experience 
 to take the superintendence of her household. She lived a very 
 regular life, and was a strict lover of order ; and I assisted 
 her scrupulously in many a contest with her steward and her 
 domestics. My disposition is neither close nor parsimo- 
 nious ; but we, women, understand better than men the art 
 of preventing extravagance. We detest embezzlement, and 
 we always wish that every one should have what he is en- 
 titled to enjoy. 
 
 " And now I found myself once more in my own proper 
 element, and in silence I mourned my father's decease. JMy 
 protectress was quite satisfied with me, and there was only 
 one circumstance which disturbed my peace of mind. Lydia 
 returned ; my mother had been cruel enough to dismiss her, 
 after having altogether spoiled her. She had learned, during 
 her residence with my parent, to consider the encouragement 
 of her passions as her proper occupation ; and she had never 
 been taught to practise self-restraint. When she arrived so 
 unexpectedly, my benefactress received her, and though Lydia 
 was anxious to assist me in my duties, she could apply herself 
 to nothing. 
 
 " About this time the relations and future heir to the pro- 
 perty visited us,to enjoy the amusement of hunting. Lothario 
 frequently joined the party, and I soon observed how superior 
 he was to his companions, although without the smallest refer- 
 ence to myself, he was polite to all ; but Lydia, before long, 
 engaged his whole attention. I was constantly engaged, and 
 seldom joined the company ; in his presence I was more silent 
 than usual, for I will not deny, that agreeable conversation has 
 always been the greatest charm of my life. I had always 
 conversed with my father upon every thing that occurred, 
 and we seldom think accurately upon subjects which we do 
 not discuss. I have never listened to any one with greater 
 pleasure than to Lothario, when he gave us an account of 
 his travels, and his campaigns. The world seemed to lie as 
 clear and as plain before him, as the neighbourhood in which 
 he was residing. He never engaged our attention with won- 
 derful adventures, the improbable exaggerations of a narrow- 
 minded traveller, who describes himself, instead of the country 
 of which he is giving an account he dealt in no long narra- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 423 
 
 tives, but he led us to the very place itself and I have 
 seldom enjoyed a higher pleasure than in listening to him. 
 
 " I experienced an inexpressible pleasure one evening when 
 I heard him offer his opinion about women. The subject 
 had been accidentally introduced ; some neighbouring ladies 
 had paid us a visit, and* they made the usual observations 
 about female education. They maintained that our sex was 
 unfairly treated, that the men retained all the higher kinds 
 of education for themselves, excluding us from the study of 
 science, and requiring that we should be nothing more than 
 pretty dolls or mere housekeepers. Lothario did not offer 
 any reply to these remarks, but when the company had broken 
 up, he expressed his sentiments more fully. * It is strange, 1 
 he said, ' that men should be censured for placing women in 
 the highest position which they are capable of occupying ; for 
 what station can be higher than the government of a house- 
 hold ? whilst man is perpetually worried with outward af- 
 fairs, engaged in collecting and securing his income ; or if he 
 is concerned in state affairs, depending upon the course of 
 events, believing that he governs, while, in fact, he governs 
 nothing, politic by compulsion when he would willingly be 
 reasonable, insincere when he would be candid, and false when 
 he w r ould be honourable, abandoning for the sake of an object 
 which he can never attain, that highest of all objects, his own 
 peace of mind, a prudent housewife is, in the mean time, 
 ruling within the circle of her own family, and providing for 
 the happiness and content of all around her. What greater 
 bliss can mortals enjoy, than to do what they consider right 
 and good, and to possess the actual means of attaining such 
 an end ? And where should our first and dearest object 
 be but in our own household ? Where should we look 
 for all those indispensable and perpetual supplies, which are 
 to furnish the cellar, the store-room, and the kitchen, but 
 in that dwelling, where we rise, and where we retire to 
 repose ? What a regular course of activity is required 
 to keep this ever-returning series in uninterrupted ac- 
 tivity and order ? How few men can enjoy the privilege 
 of filling their posts by day and night with the regularity 
 of a star ! forming their own household instruments, planting, 
 reaping, gaining, and distributing, and ever appearing in 
 their own circle with unvaried peace, tranquillity, and love. 
 
424 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 "When a woman has attained this inward mastery, she makes 
 the husband, whom she loves, a real master ; her attention 
 ensures knowledge of which her activity can profit. De- 
 pendent upon no one, she brings her husband a genuine in- 
 dependence interior and domestic his goods are secure, 
 and his earnings well employed, and he is therefore free to 
 devote his mind to high pursuits ; and, if he prove fortimatr, 
 he can act towards the state the part which his wife performs 
 at home.' 
 
 " He then described the kind of wife that he would choose. 
 I blushed as I heard him describe me as I lived and moved. 
 I enjoyed my triumph in secret, particularly as I knew from 
 all the attendant circumstances that he had not alluded to 
 me personally, as, in point of fact, he was not even acquainted 
 with me. I do not recollect, in my whole life, ever to have 
 experienced a more delightful sensation than to feel 
 that a man whom I esteemed so highly, preferred me, not 
 for my personal attractions, but for my inmost nature. 
 What a reward what an encouragement did I not con- 
 sider it. 
 
 " When they had taken their departure, my kind friend 
 said to me with a smile, ' What a pity it is that men should 
 so frequently think and talk of projects which they have not 
 the least idea of executing! otherwise what an excellent 
 match I should have found for my dear Theresa.' I laughed 
 at her observation, and added, that men's judgments pre- 
 ferred household wives, but that their hearts and imagina- 
 tions longed for other qualities, and that we homely maidens 
 could not enter into competition with beautiful and attrac- 
 tive women. I said this in the hearing of Lydia, for she 
 did not conceal that Lothario had made a deep impression on 
 her, and he, at each new visit, seemed to pay her additional 
 attention. She was poor, she was not of high birth, she 
 could not think of entering into a matrimonial engagement 
 with him, but she could not resist the pleasure of charming 
 and of being charmed. For my part, I had never been in 
 love, nor did I love at that time, and, although it was inex- 
 pressibly pleasant to know how highly I was valued and 
 esteemed by so distinguished a man, I will confess that I 
 was not altogether satisfied. I wished him to know me, and 
 to feel a personal interest in my welfare. I entertained this 
 
APPEENTICESH1P. 425 
 
 wish without forming any definite idea of the conse- 
 quences. 
 
 " The greatest service which I rendered to my benefactress 
 consisted in the efforts which I made to improve the condi- 
 tion of her extensive forests. This valuable property the 
 worth of which was ever increasing with time and circum- 
 stances was still managed in the old negligent manner, 
 without any plan or order, and there was no end to the 
 pilfering and stealing that occurred: Many mountains re- 
 mained wholly un planted, and in few places was there an 
 equal growth of timber. I made my rounds attended by an 
 experienced forester, I caused the woods to be measured, 
 felled, trimmed, and planted, and, in a short time, every 
 tiling was established upon a new principle. In order that 
 I might more conveniently ride on horseback, and also that 
 I might walk about with less difficulty, I procured a suit of 
 man's apparel, and in that attire I went every where, and 
 was every where feared. 
 
 tl Hearing that a party of young men, who were assembled 
 at the house of my benefactress, had made arrangements 
 for a day's shooting, it occurred to me, for the first time in 
 my life, to assume a disguise, or not to do myself an injus- 
 tice, to pass with Lothario for what I really was. I accord- 
 ingly equipped myself in man's attire, took my gun upon my 
 shoulder, and accompanied the general body of sportsmen 
 to await the company at the place of meeting. They came 
 Lothario did not recognise me immediately one of the 
 nephews of my benefactress introduced me to him as an 
 experienced forester, he joked about my youth, and praised 
 me so warmly, that, at length, Lothario discovered who I 
 was. The nephew assisted my plan, as if we had framed it 
 together, and he narrated, in detail, and in terms of gratitude, 
 all that I had done for the property of his aunt and for 
 himself. 
 
 " Lothario heard it all attentively, entered into conversation 
 with me, and made many inquiries about the estates and the 
 neighbourhood. I was delighted at such an opportunity 
 for displaying my knowledge. I passed favourably through 
 my examination, and suggested various projects of improve- 
 ment, he adopted them, adduced parallel examples, and 
 strengthened my principles by the connection which he 
 
426 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 gave them. My satisfaction increased every moment. But 
 fortunately my only object was to be known not to be 
 loved ; although, when we returned home, I observed more 
 evidently than before, that the attention, which he was 
 paying to Lydia, betrayed a secret partiality for her. I 
 had gained my object, and yet 1 was not happy. From that 
 day he manifested a real respect for me, no confided in 
 me, he usually addressed me in company, and consulted 
 my opinion in household matters as if my knowledge 
 had been universal. His sympathy encouraged me, and 
 when the conversation turned upon topics of agriculture 
 and finances, he inquired my sentiments, and I sought, 
 therefore, to improve my knowledge, not only of our pro- 
 vince, but of the entire country. This task was easy, as I 
 only repeated in general* terms, what I had previously learnt 
 accurately in detail. 
 
 " From this period his visits to me became more frequent. 
 I may say that we discussed every thing together, but, in 
 general, our conversation turned upon subjects of economy, 
 if only in an indirect way. He spoke much of the great 
 effects which a man may produce by the diligent devotion 
 of his powers, his time, his money, and even of apparently 
 trivial means, to the accomplishment of any design. 
 
 " I offered no resistance to the inclination which he 
 evinced for me ; and, alas ! I felt, before long, the depth, the 
 cordiality, the sincerity of my love, as I could perceive 
 daily that Lydia, and not myself, was the object of his fre- 
 quent visits. She, at least, was fully convinced of this, for 
 she chose me as her confidant, and I felt herein some small 
 degree of consolation. But I saw no reason to encourage 
 the favourable views which she entertained; I saw no 
 prospect of a serious, lasting union, and, for this very reason, 
 I could tRe more clearly discern that it was her wish to be 
 his at any sacrifice. 
 
 " In this state of things my surprise may be conceived, 
 when my benefactress one day made an unexpected com- 
 munication to me. ' Lothario/ she said, * proposes to 
 offer you his hand, and wishes that you may consent to be 
 his for life. 1 She then expatiated upon my good qualities, 
 and added what I was so delighted to hear, ' that Lothario 
 felt convinced that he had found in me the being whom he 
 had so long wished to possess/ 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 427 
 
 " I had now attained the very summit of happiness. T had 
 been sought in marriage by a man whom I highly prized, at 
 whose side and in whose society I might freely, fully, and 
 profitably employ my natural talents. The sum of iny ex- 
 istence seemed infinitely extended. I gave my consent 
 he then came to me himself, he spoke with me alone, he 
 gave me his hand, he looked into my ejes, he embraced mr, 
 he imprinted a kiss upon my lips. It was the first and the 
 last. He spoke to me in confidence of all his circumstances, 
 told me how much his American campaign had cost him, 
 what debts were charged upon his estate, and the reason why 
 he had quarrelled with his grand-uncle, a good man who had 
 loved him after his own peculiar fashion. He had intended 
 to provide him with a rich wife, although a homely partner 
 would have been better adapted for a prudent man. He 
 had hoped, however, that his sister would be able to win 
 him over to his views. He acquainted me with the condi- 
 tion of his fortune, and the nature of his plans and projects, 
 and begged my co-operation. But he wished that our en- 
 gagement should remain a secret until he had obtained the 
 consent of his uncle. 
 
 " He had scarcely taken leave of me, when Lvdia inquired 
 whether he had spoken about her. I answered that he had 
 not, and wearied her with a detail of economical affairs. She 
 became restless and dissatisfied, and his conduct, when he 
 returned, did not improve her prospects. 
 
 " But I see the sun is about to set. You are fortunate, 
 my friend otherwise you would have been compelled to 
 listen to the circumstantial detail of a story which it always 
 affords me so much pleasure to narrate. Let me bring it to 
 an end an epoch is approaching, upon which it is better not 
 to dwell. 
 
 " Lothario introduced me to his sister, and she soon found 
 an opportunity to present me to her uncle. I pleased the 
 old gentleman, he acceded to our wishes, and I returned with 
 good news to the house of my benefactress. As the affair 
 was now no secret in the house, Lydia soon became ac- 
 quainted with it but she thought it impossible. But when, 
 at length, there was no room for doubt, she disappeared 
 suddenly, and no one knew what afterwards became of her. 
 
 " The day of our marriage approached. I had often asked 
 
428 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 him for his portrait, and, as he was one day on the point of 
 leaving me, I reminded him of his promise to grant my 
 request. ' You have forgotten/ he said, ' to give me the 
 case in which you wish it to be placed.* This was the fact. 
 I had formerly received a present from a friend, which I 
 valued highly. Her name had been woven, in her own 
 hair, beneath the outward glass, and there was a blank piece 
 of ivory within, upon which her portrait was to have been 
 painted, when, unhappily, she was snatched from me by the 
 hand of death. Lothario's attachment had consoled me at 
 the time when I most keenly felt her loss, and I was anxious 
 to fill the void which had been left in her present with the 
 picture of my friend. 
 
 "I hastened to my chamber, fetched my jewel case, and 
 opened it in his presence. He had scarcely glanced into it, 
 when he saw a medallion containing the portrait of a lady. 
 He took it in his hand, contemplated it attentively, and 
 hastily inquired, ' Whom does this portrait represent ?' 
 'My mother,' I answered. *I could have felt certain,' 
 he exclaimed, ' that it was the picture of a Madame St. 
 Alban, whom I saw some years ago in Switzerland/ * It is 
 the same person,' I replied, with a smile, 'and you have 
 thus become acquainted with your step-mother, without 
 knowing it. St. Alban is a romantic and assumed name, 
 under which my mother travels, and she is at this present 
 moment in France, under that very designation.' 
 
 '"I am the most unfortunate of men/ he exclaimed, as he 
 threw back the portrait into my jewel case, and covering 
 his eyes with his hands, he hastily quitted the apartment. 
 He leaped upon his horse. I hastened to the balcony and 
 called after him, he turned round and wared his hand, but 
 he rode rapidly away, and I have never seen him since." 
 
 The sun set. Theresa watched the glow of the heavens 
 with unaverted gaze, and her beautiful eyes filled with 
 tears. 
 
 She was silent. She placed her hand upon the hand of 
 Wilhelm he kissed it affectionately she rose. " Let us 
 return," she said, " and inquire for our friends." 
 
 The conversation, in the meanwhile, was not animated. 
 They entered by the garden gate. Lydia was sitting upon 
 a bench, she rose, retired at their approach, and went into 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 429 
 
 the house. She held a paper in her hand, and two little 
 girls were standing at her side. "I see," said Theresa, 
 " that she still retains Lothario's letter, which is her only 
 consolation. He promises that he will return, and continue 
 with her, as soon as he is recovered, and he begs that she 
 will, in the meantime, remain with me. She dwells per- 
 petually upon these words, and they form her only consola- 
 tion, but she is not well disposed towards his friends." 
 
 The two children now approached, and, saluting Theresa, 
 they gave her an account of all that had occurred in the 
 house during her absence. "You may observe," she said, 
 " how I am partly occupied. In company with Lothario's 
 excellent sister, I have engaged to educate a certain number 
 of children, I take charge of those who promise to be active 
 and serviceable housekeepers, whilst she superintends the 
 others, who evince a finer and more quiet talent. It is right 
 that they should be instructed in housekeeping, and learn 
 the art of rendering their future husbands happy. When 
 you become acquainted with my noble friend, you will have 
 entered upon a new existence, her beauty and her goodness 
 render her worthy of the world's adoration." Wilhelm did 
 not inform her that he was unfortunately acquainted with 
 the beautiful Countess already, and that his transient con- 
 nection with her must be to him a source of endless grief. 
 He was gratified to find that Theresa did not pursue the 
 conversation, and her duties soon compelled her to return to 
 the house. He was now alone, and the information which he 
 had received, that the young and beautiful Countess had 
 been driven to repair the loss of her own happiness by a 
 course of active benevolence, made him unspeakably 
 wretched. He felt that she was driven, by the strong ne- 
 cessity of self-oblivion, to the alternative of forgetting the 
 change which had taken place in her own joyous existence, by 
 relieving the misfortunes of others. He deemed Theresa 
 happy, as even the sad and unexpected alteration which 
 had occurred in her prospects, did not require that any 
 change should take place in her disposition. " Happy is the 
 man," he exclaimed, " who is not compelled to reconcile 
 himself with fate, by altering the whole course of his pre- 
 ceding life." 
 
 Theresa came to his apartment, and begged pardon for 
 
430 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 disturbing him. " My whole library,'' she said, c< is contained 
 in this press, and they are rather books which I have not 
 altogether thrown away, than those which I usually read. 
 Lydia wants a religious book, and there are few of that 
 description amongst my collection. Persons who spend the 
 whole year profanely, think, that in the hour of trial, they 
 ought to become devout they regard moral and religious pur- 
 suits as medicine, which is to be taken reluctantly in times 
 of illness, and they consider clergymen or teachers of morals 
 as physicians, with whom they ought to dispense as soon as 
 possible. But, for my part, I regard religion as a pursuit 
 which should form my rule of life, and of which, during the 
 whole year, I should never lose sight." 
 
 Searching amongst her books, she found some of that des- 
 cription which are usually termed edifying. " It was from my 
 mother," saidTheresa, "that Lydia learned the habit of read- 
 ing bookslike these. Plays and novels were her delight as long 
 as her lover continued true, his abandonment of her once more 
 restored the credit of the former works. I cannot under- 
 stand," she continued, " how any one can believe that God 
 speaks to us through books and histories. If the universe 
 does not immediately explain our connection with Him, if 
 our own heart does not explain our obligations to ourselves 
 and others, we can scarcely expect to derive that knowledge 
 from books, which seldom do more than give names to our 
 errors." 
 
 She left Wilhelm alone, and he spent his evening in ex- 
 amining the little library. He found that it had, in truth, 
 been collected by chance. 
 
 Theresa's manner continued quite unchanged during the 
 few days which "Wilhelm spent in her society. She related 
 to him very minutely, at different times, the result of 
 the events, to which we have already alluded. Her 
 memory faithfully recalled every incident of day and hour, 
 of place and name, and we shall compress the whole into a 
 small compass for the benefit of our readers. 
 
 The cause of Ijothario's sudden departure may be easily 
 explained. He had met Theresa's mother upon her journey, 
 her charms had attracted him, and she had given him en- 
 couragement, and this hasty and inconsiderate adventure 
 had interrupted his union with a lady whom nature seemed 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 431 
 
 to have intended for him. Theresa now continued in the 
 pure circle of her duties and her occupation. It was said 
 that Lydia had been living in the neighbourhood in conceal- 
 ment. She was glad when the marriage was broken off by 
 some unknown cause, and she, thereupon, sought to renew 
 her acquaintance with Lothario. He had gratified her 
 wishes rather, as it seemed, from despair than from love, 
 from sudden impulse rather than with deliberation, and more 
 from very weariness than fixed design. Theresa, under 
 these circumstances, remained perfectly tranquil, she had 
 no further claims upon him, and even if he had been her hus- 
 band, she would probably have had courage enough to bear this 
 grievance, if it had not disturbed her household economy ; 
 at least, she had often said, that a wife who manages her 
 household properly, should not censure every little fancy of 
 her husband, but should always depend upon his return. 
 
 The property of Theresa's mother had become embarrassed, 
 and Theresa herself suffered in consequence, but, the old 
 lady, who had been her benefactress, had upon her death, 
 bequeathed her a small estate and a considerable sura of 
 money. Theresa became reconciled to her altered circum- 
 stances, and when Lothario proposed to settle upon her a 
 property of greater value, and Jarno undertook to negotiate 
 i he matter, she absolutely rejected the proposal. " I will 
 convince him by my conduct in this trilling transaction," 
 she said, " that I am worthy to be his partner in greater 
 things, but, should accident embarrass me, either through 
 my own fault or that of others, I shall not hesitate to have 
 recourse to my generous friend." 
 
 Nothing is less likely to remain concealed and unem- 
 ploved than a talent for activity. Theresa had hardly taken 
 possession of her little properly, than her neighbours culti- 
 vated her acquaintance, and sought her advice, and the 
 new purchaser of the adjoining estate gave her a plain inti- 
 mation that she might, if she pleased, accept his hand and 
 succeed to half his fortune. She had communicated this 
 circumstance to Wilhelm, and she had often jested with him 
 about suitable and unsuitable marriages. 
 
 Few subjects afford more food for conversation than 
 marriages which men consider to be unsuitable, and yet 
 such unions are more common than marriages of an opposite 
 
432 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 kind. Unfortunately, in most cases, marriages, after a 
 very short time, assume a very sorry aspect. The confusion 
 of ranks, by marriage, should be deemed unsuitable only in 
 cases where one of the parties finds it impossible to adopt the 
 manner of living which is natural, habitual, and even indis- 
 pensable to the other. The different classes of society have 
 different modes of living which they can neither change 
 nor share with each other and for this reason it were 
 better to avoid marriages of this nature, but still exceptions, 
 and frequently of a very happy kind, are possible. Thus, 
 the union of a young maiden with an elderly person may 
 be termed unsuitable, and yet I have known instances where 
 such marriages have proved extremely happy. For my own 
 part, I only know one species of unsuitable marriage that 
 which I should myself be required to manage and direct, and 
 rather than do which, I would cheerfully bestow my hand 
 upon any honest farmer's son in the Neighbourhood. 
 
 Wilhelm now thought of preparing for his return, and he 
 implored his new friend to procure for him a parting word 
 with Lydia. The impassioned girl suffered herself to be 
 persuaded. Wilhelra spoke to her in a friendly tone, she 
 replied thus : " I have subdued my first burst of anguish, 
 Lothario will always remain true to me, but I know his 
 friends, and am sorry that he is surrounded by such ad- 
 visers. The Abbe, to gratify one of his own whims, would 
 not hesitate to leave his friends in the greatest necessity. 
 The Doctor would reduce every thing to rule and system. 
 Jarno has no spirit ; and you at least no strength of cha- 
 racter. But, continue your course, be still the tool of these 
 three persons, they will give you many a task to execute. 
 I know that my presence has been for a long time hateful 
 to them, for, though I have not discovered the nature of 
 their secret, I have known that they possessed one. If not, 
 why these bolted chambers these mysterious passages ? 
 why can no one person ever Center into the large tower ? 
 why have they, upon every possible occasion, confined me 
 to my own apartment ? I will confess that jealousy first 
 caused me to make this discovery. I feared that some 
 fortunate rival was kept in concealment. But I no longer 
 think so. I am convinced that Lothario loves me, that his 
 intentions are honourable, but, am as firmly convinced that 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 433 
 
 be Avill be deceived by his false and cunning friends. It 
 you wish to render him a service, if you would deserve 
 pardon for the injury which you have done to me, rescue 
 him from the hands of these men by whom he is surrounded. 
 But what have I to expect ? Give him, at least, this letter, 
 read its contents to him, tell him that I love him, without 
 change, and that I rely upon his word. Ah !" she ex- 
 claimed, as she rose from her seat and wept upon Theresa's 
 neck, "he is surrounded by my enemies, they will endea- 
 vour to persuade him that I have made no sacrifice for 
 him. O! my best of friends may feel certain that he is 
 worthy of any sacrifice on my part, and that I do not need 
 his gratitude." 
 
 Wilhelm parted from Theresa more cheerfully she hoped 
 to see him soon again. " You understand me thoroughly," 
 she observed ; " you have allowed tne to carry on the whole 
 conversation next time we meet it will be your duty to 
 return my confidence." 
 
 He had time enough, upon his way home, to reflect calmly 
 upon all that had occurred. With what confidence had she 
 not inspired him ? He thought of Mignon and Felix how 
 happy those dear children would be under her protection 
 then he thought of himself, and he felt the intense delight 
 of living continually in presence of this serene and tranquil 
 being. As he approached the castle, he thought more than 
 ever of the tower, with its many passages and corridors, and 
 he determined, upon the very next opportunity, to question 
 Jarno, or the Abbe, upon the subject. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WHEN Wilhelm returned to the castle, he found his friend 
 Lothario wonderfully improved. The physician and the 
 Abbe were absent, and Jarno alone was in attendance upon 
 him. Before long, the invalid was able to take occasional 
 excursions on horseback, sometimes alone, at other times 
 accompanied by some of his friends. His conversation was 
 invariably earnest and entertaining, instructive and cheerful, 
 
434 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 and he frequently afforded evidence of a tender sensibility, 
 which it was his constant endeavour to hide, and which he 
 generally condemned, when it was suffered involuntarily to 
 appear. 
 
 In this mood he was one evening sitting at the table, ab- 
 sorbed in thought, and yet his look was cheerful. 
 
 " So you have had an agreeable adventure to-day," ob- 
 served Jarno. 
 
 " How well you seem to know me !" answered Lothario. 
 " Yes, I have had a most charming adventure. At any other 
 time perhaps, I should not have enjoyed it so much, but 
 to-day it has been perfectly delightful. Towards evening I 
 rode out across the river to the village, by a way which I 
 had taken in years gone by. ]S1y illness must have rendered 
 me weaker than I had supposed : I felt exhausted at 
 first, but when my strength returned, I became quite 
 reanimated. All things around me wore the same appear- 
 ance as formerly, and looked even more charming and lovely 
 than they had ever done before. I knew that this was the 
 effect of my own weakness, but I enjoyed it thoroughly, and 
 rode forward quietly, feeling that I could now partly under- 
 stand how men can come to love bodily indispositions which 
 awaken such sweet emotions within them. You are doubt- 
 less aware of the cause which induced me formerly to take 
 that road so frequently." 
 
 " If I remember rightly," answered Jarno, " it was a little 
 love adventure with a farmer's daughter." 
 
 " You would be nearer the mark if you had termed it a great 
 adventure," replied Lothario, "for we loved each other ten- 
 derly and earnestly, and our attachment was of long dura- 
 tion. By chance, every thing that happened recalled vividly 
 that earliest season of our love. The boys were again em- 
 ployed in shaking fruit from the trees, and the bower where 
 we used to sit had not increased in size since the days when 
 I beheld her first. It was a long time since I had seen 
 Margaret, as she is married at a great distance from here, 
 but I had heard accidentally that she had come with her 
 children to visit her father for a few weeks." 
 
 " Your ride then, it seems, was not so purely accidental !" 
 
 " I shall not deny," said Lothario, " that I was anxious to 
 meet her. As I approached the dwelling-house I saw her 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 4OO 
 
 father sitting before the door, whilst a little child of about 
 four years old was standing at his side. As I came nearer, 
 I observed a woman, give a hasty look from an upper window, 
 and when I had reached the door I heard the sound of foot- 
 steps descending the stairs. I certainly thought that it was 
 she, and I own I felt flattered at being recognised, and that 
 she was coming to meet me. But how great was my disap- 
 pointment to see her rush from the door at the approach of 
 my horse, seize the child and carry it into the house ! It 
 gave me a feeling of sadness, but my vanity was a little 
 consoled upon observing that her neck and uncovered face 
 bore an evident tinge of redness. 
 
 " I stopped and addressed the father, looking up at the 
 windows, in the mean time, to watch if she would again make 
 her appearance, but as I could observe no trace of her, and 
 I was unwilling to make any direct inquiries, I rode away. 
 My disappointment was however mingled with surprise, for 
 though I had scarcely seen her face, she seemed to me to be 
 very little changed and ten years are a considerable time ! 
 she seemed to be actually younger than ever, as slender and 
 as light of foot, her neck, if possible, lovelier than before, 
 and her cheek as easily disposed to blush and yet she was 
 the mother of six children, or perhaps more. This appear- 
 ance agreed so well with the other enchantments which sur- 
 rounded me, that I rode forward with refreshed feelings, 
 and did not turn until I had reached the neighbouring 
 forest just as the sun was setting. And though the falling 
 dew, and the physician's advice, reminded me that it would 
 be prudent to return directly home, I bent my course once 
 more in the direction of the farm-house. I now saw a female 
 figure in the garden, which was only separated from me by a 
 slight hedge. I rode along the footpath, and found myself 
 not far from the person whom I was seeking. 
 
 " Though the setting sun was shining full in my face, I 
 could perceive that she was busied with the hedge, which 
 only partially concealed her. I thought I could once more 
 recognize the object of my former affections. I stopped 
 upon coming near to her, not without a palpitation of the 
 heart. Some high branches of wild roses, which a light wind 
 blew to and fro, rendered her figure indistinctly visible. I 
 addressed her, and inquired how she was ? JShe answered 
 
436 WILHEI/M MEISTER'S 
 
 in a low voice l quite well !' I observed, at the same time, 
 that a child was employed in plucking flowers from the 
 hedge, and I took the opportunity to ask where her other 
 children were ? ' That is not my child,' she replied; * it 
 were somewhat soon.' At that moment, it happened that I 
 could discern her features, through the rose bushes, and I 
 knew not what to think. It was my beloved, and it was not. 
 She was younger and more beautiful than she had looked ten 
 years previously. ' Are you not the farmer's daughter ?' I 
 inquire <!, half perplexed. ' No,' she answered, * I am her 
 cousin.' 
 
 " You are very like one another, I observed. 
 
 " ' So everybody says, who knew her ten years ago,' she 
 replied. 
 
 " I continued to ask her many questions, and I found that 
 the mistake which I had made was pleasant, even after I had 
 discovered it. I could not tear myself from the living inin^e 
 of my former happiness, which stood before me. The child 
 had gone away in the meantime to search for flowers near 
 the pond, and she left me to look after it. 
 
 " I had learned, however, that Margaret was actually in 
 her father's house, and during my ride I busied myself with 
 wondering, whether it could have been herself or her cousin, 
 who had snatched the child from the road at the approach of 
 my horse. I thought the whole incident over and over in 
 iny mind, and I do not remember that I have ever enjoyed 
 more delicious reflections. But I feel that I am still unwell, 
 and I must have recourse to the doctor, for relief from the 
 effects of this excitement." 
 
 The confidential communication of love adventures re- 
 sembles, in some particulars, the relation of ghost stories. 
 The first is generally followed by a succession of others. 
 
 In their recollections of former times, our little party 
 could furnish many incidents of this nature. Lothario had 
 the most to tell. Jarno's stories were all of the same cha- 
 racter, and we know already what Wilhelm had to impart. 
 But he trembled lest some one should mention his adventure 
 with the Countess, but it was not alluded to, even in an 
 indirect manner. 
 
 " It is quite true," observed Lothario, "that no sensation 
 in life can be more agreeable, than when our heart after a 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 437 
 
 pause of indifference, opens once more upon a new object 
 of affection ; and yet I could cheerfully renounce this hap- 
 piness, if fate had been willing to unite me to Theresa. We 
 are not always young, we should not always continue children. 
 The man of the world, who knows his duties and his hopes, 
 can find nothing more desirable of attainment than a \vite, 
 who will be ever ready to smoothen his path of life, and to 
 assist him with all her energies ; one whose activity will be 
 employed to gather what he must leave, and whose diligence 
 will extend on every side, whilst he must pursue his own 
 unvaried uniform career. What a paradise had I not dreamed 
 of enjoying in Theresa ! not the paradise of sensual delight, 
 but the heaven of a contented life upon this earth, with 
 whom I should possess moderation in prosperity, courage in 
 misfortune, care for the smallest things, and a soul capable 
 of comprehending and managing great things. Yes, she 
 possessed those qualities which we admire in women of 
 historic celebrity, who are more famous even than men that 
 clearness of apprehension, expertness in difficulties, certainty 
 about details, by which a prosperous consummation is so 
 readily attained. You will doubtless pardon me," he con- 
 tinued, as he turned towards Wilhelm, " for abandoning 
 Aurelia for Theresa ; with the latter, I might have hoped to 
 enjoy a life of perpetual bliss, while, with the former, I could 
 never expect to pass a single happy hour." 
 
 " I must admit," said Willielm, "that when I first came 
 hither, my heart was highly incensed against you, and I had 
 intended to call you to account for your conduct towards 
 Aurelia." 
 
 " I deserve your censure," continued Lothario, " I ought 
 not to have converted my friendship for her into a feeling of 
 love ; I should not have substituted, for the respect which 
 she deserved, an attachment which she was neither calculated 
 to inspire nor to return. She could never excite the passion 
 which she felt, and that is the greatest misfortune which can 
 befal a woman." 
 
 " Well, that is all over," answered Wilhelm, "we cannot 
 always avoid error our thoughts and our actions will some- 
 times strangely turn from their naturally virtuous course. 
 And yet there are certain duties of which we should never 
 lose sight. But peace be to the ashes of our friend ! With- 
 
438 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 out blaming ourselves or censuring her, we will strew 
 flowers upon her grave. And by the side of that grave, in 
 which the unhappy mother rests, let me inquire -tfhy you do 
 not protect her child. He is a boy of whom any one might 
 well be proud, and yet you entirely neglect him. "With 
 your pure and affectionate feelings, how can you so wholly 
 forget the instinct of a father's heart ? During the entire 
 of our conversation, you have not uttered one syllable about 
 that precious creature, of whose sweet disposition you might 
 have said so much." 
 
 " Of whom are you speaking ?" inquired Lothario. " I 
 do not understand you." 
 
 " Of no other than your son, Aurelia's eon, a hopeful 
 child, whose good fortune fails in nothing, but that he should 
 be taken to a father's heart." 
 
 " You mistake egregiously, my friend. Aurelia never had 
 a son of whom I could have been the parent. I am not 
 aware of any child of hers, or I would gladly acknowledge 
 it. But even in the present case, I will cheerfully take the 
 boy as a memorial of her, and I will provide for his educa- 
 tion. But tell me, has she ever given you to understand 
 that the boy was hers or mine ?" 
 
 " I do not remember to have heard her utter a word ex- 
 pressly on the subject, but we have always taken it for 
 granted, and I have never had the smallest doubt about it/' 
 
 "I can give you some useful information," interrupted 
 Jarno. " An old woman, whom you must frequently have 
 seen, brought the child to Aurelia, and she received it 
 gladly, as she hoped that its companionship would bring 
 some relief to her sorrows, and in truth it has afforded her 
 many a happy moment." 
 
 Wilhelm was much distressed at this discovery. His 
 thoughts wandered to his kind-hearted Mignon and the 
 beautiful Felix, and he expressed his anxiety to remove both 
 the children from their present situation. 
 
 " We can dispose of that matter easily," observed Lo- 
 thario. " Suffer Theresa to take charge of that wonderful 
 little girl of w"hom you speak. She could not possibly fall 
 into better hands, and as for the boy, I have been thinking 
 that you may keep him yourself, for the associations of chil- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 439 
 
 dren will supply the defects which we ourselves suffer from 
 the want of female education." 
 
 "But above all things," interrupted Jarno, " you must 
 consent to renounce the theatre for ever, as you possess no 
 talent for such a pursuit.' ' 
 
 Wilhelm was astonished, but he was obliged to restrain 
 himself, for Jarno's harsh opinion had severely wounded his 
 self-love. " If you can only convince me of the fact," he 
 added, with a forced smile, "you will do me a favour, 
 though, after all, it is but a sorry service which you render 
 a man when you waken him from a happy, though delusive 
 dream." 
 
 " Without discussing the subject any farther," said Jarno, 
 " I wish we could induce you to bring the children hither. 
 The matter would then be soon arranged." 
 
 " I am quite ready to do so," answered Wilhelm. " I 
 am restless and curious to know, whether I cannot learn 
 something further of the boy, and I am anxious once more 
 to see the girl who has evinced so strong an attachment for 
 me." 
 
 It was agreed that he should set out immediately. On 
 the following day, all the necessary preparations were com- 
 pleted, the horse was saddled, and Wilhelm only waited to 
 take leave of Lothario. When the hour of dinner arrived, 
 they all sat down to table as usual, without waiting for the 
 master of the house. He did not come till late, when he 
 took his seat amongst them. 
 
 " I will lay a wager," said Jarno, " that you have been 
 trying another experiment with your heart to-day. You 
 have not been able to resist your inclination once more to 
 visit your former love." 
 
 ts You are right," answered Lothario. 
 " Tell us all about it, then," continued Jarno. " I am 
 curious to hear what happened." 
 
 " I must confess," said Lothario, " that I felt more anxious 
 about the matter than I ought to have been. I determined, 
 therefore, to ride to the place again, and to see the person 
 whose juvenile form had made so pleasant an impression upon 
 me. I dismounted at some distance from the house, and led 
 my horse by the bridle, that I might not disturb the children 
 who were playing before the door. I entered the house, and 
 
440 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 she came to meet me, for it was herself, and I recognized her, 
 notwithstanding the alteration which had occurred. She had 
 grown stouter, her form seemed somewhat fuller, her beauty 
 was chequered by an appearance of care, and her former 
 sprightliness had passed into a look of gravity. Her head 
 which she once held so free and erect, now stooped a little, 
 and slight lines were observable upon her brow. 
 
 " She drooped her eyes when she recognized me, but no 
 blush announced the slightest emotion of her heart. I held 
 out my hand ; she gave me hers. I inquired for her hus- 
 band ; he was absent. I asked for her children ; she called 
 them to her, whereupon they all came and assembled round 
 me. Nothing can be more charming than to behold a mother 
 with an infant in her arms nothing more honourable than 
 to see a mother surrounded by her children. I inquired the 
 name of the youngest, as an excuse for saying something ; 
 whereupon she invited me to come in, and wait for her 
 father. I consented, and she conducted me into the apart- 
 ment, where I saw all the old familiar objects still in their old 
 places, and, strange to say, her beautiful cousin, who was 
 her very image, was seated upon a stool behind the spinning 
 wheel, where I had so often seen my own love sitting in the 
 very same posture. A little girl, the exact picture of her 
 mother, had followed us, and thus I found myself in the 
 strangest position between the future and the past, as it 
 were in an orange grove, where, in a small compass, blossoms 
 and fruit appear in close proximity. Her cousin went to 
 bring us some refreshment. I held out my hand to the dear 
 creature whom I had formerly so deeply loved, saying at the 
 same time, ' It gives me the most exquisite joy to see you 
 once, again.' * You are very good to say so,' she replied, 
 ' and 1 also feel inexpressible delight. How often have I 
 wished that I might see you once again during my life. 
 1 have even wished this in moments which I deemed might 
 prove my last.' She said this in a calm tone, without emotion, 
 with that natural air which used to please me so much for- 
 merly. Her cousin returned accompanied by her father, 
 and I must leave you to conjecture the feelings with which 
 1 bade her farewell." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 441 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WILHELM, during his journey to town, employed himself 
 in recalling to mind the various lovely women with whom "he 
 had ever been acquainted, or of whom he had heard, and as 
 he thought over their various fortunes, which seemed to be 
 so far removed from happiness, his heart was filled with pain. 
 " Alas !" he exclaimed, " poor Mariana ! what may I not even 
 yet be doomed to hear of thoe ? Andthou,noble Amazon ! 
 protecting guardian- spirit, whom I expect to meet every 
 , but whom I never see, in what a sad condition may I 
 not perhaps find thee, if it be our fate to meet again !" 
 
 When he reached the town none of his acquaintances were 
 at home. He hastened at once to the theatre, expectii 
 find them engaged at a rehearsal, but here all was still. The 
 was empty, but he saw one entrance open. He made 
 his way to the stage, and there he found Aurelia's old ser- 
 vant, employed with her needle, in the preparation of some 
 new decorations. There was just sufficient light to allow 
 her to continue her work. Felix and Mignon were sitting 
 near her upon the ground. They both held a book in their 
 hands, and whilst Mignon read aloud, Felix repeated all the 
 words after her, as though he knew his letters, and wt-iv 
 able to read. 
 
 The children leaped up and welcomed Wilhelm. He em- 
 braced them affectionately, and led them close to the woman. 
 " Who are you ?" he inquired, in a tone of earnestness, 
 " who gave this child to Aurelia ?" She raised her eyes from 
 her work, and turned her face towards him, he saw her in 
 tiu' lull light, and started back with astonishment. It was 
 old Barbara. 
 
 " Where is Mariana ?" he exclaimed. 
 
 " Far from this place," replied the old woman. 
 
 "And Felix ..." 
 
 " Is the son of that unhappy, but affectionate and loving 
 girl. May you never know what you have occasioned us to 
 suffer ! May the treasure, which I now deliver to you, render 
 you as happy as it has made us miserable P 
 
 She rose to retire. Wilhelm detained her. " I am not 
 
442 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 going to leave you," she said; "but I wish to fetch a paper 
 which will at once delight and distress you." She retired, 
 and Wilhelm gazed upon the child with a sorrowful pleasure. 
 He dared -not acknowledge the boy as his own. "He is 
 thine !" cried Mignon, " he is thine own;" and she pressed the 
 boy to Wilhelm' s knee. 
 
 The old wo man returned and handed him a letter. " Here 
 are Mariana's last words," she observed. 
 
 " Is she dead ?" he exclaimed. 
 
 She is dead !" replied Barbara. " I would that I could 
 spare you all reproaches." 
 
 Astonished and perplexed, Wilhelm tore open the letter, 
 but, upon seeing the first word, he felt bitterly distressed, 
 he dl-opped the sheet, threw himself upon a seat, and 
 for some time continued silent. Mignon approached and en- 
 deavoured to console him. In the meantime Felix had taken 
 up the letter, and teazed Mignon until she knelt down and 
 read it to him. Felix repeated all the words, and Wilhelm 
 was thus compelled to hear them twice. " If this letter 
 should ever reach thee, sheet a tear for thy unhappy Mariana. 
 Thy love has caused her death. The child, whose birth I 
 can survive but for a few days, is thine. I die true to thee, 
 though appearances may condemn me. With thee I have 
 lost every thing which could attach me to life. I die con- 
 tent, as I am assured that the infant is strong, and will sur- 
 vive. Listen to old Barbara forgive her farewell and 
 forget me not." 
 
 What a painful and yet consoling and enigmatic letter ! 
 The contents afflicted him keenly, as the children repeated 
 each word with stammering and hesitating voice. 
 
 " Now you know the whole truth," cried Barbara, without 
 waiting till he had, in some measure, recovered his composure. 
 " Thank Heaven," she said, " that after the loss of so affec- 
 tionate a friend, this darling child remains to you. You 
 will be beyond measure grieved when you learn that the 
 dear girl remained constant to you to the last, notwithstand- 
 ing her misery and all her sacrifices for you." 
 
 " Let me drain the cup of sorrow and of joy at the same 
 time," cried Wilhelm. " Convince me, only convince me 
 that she was honest, that she was worthy of my esteem and 
 love, and then let me deplore her irreparable loss." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 443 
 
 " This is not a proper time for that purpose," replied 
 Barbara. " I have much to do at present, and I do not 
 wish that we should be found together. Keep it secret that 
 lYlix is your son. The deceit, which I nave hitherto 
 practised, would subject me to many reproaches from the 
 company. Mignon will not betray me, she is good and 
 trustworthy." 
 
 " I have known the fact for a long time, and yet I have 
 said nothing," observed Mignon. " How is it possible ?" 
 cried Barbara. " When did you learn it ?" asked Wilhelm. 
 " The spirit told me." 
 " Where where P" 
 
 " In the vault where the old man drew the knife. He 
 exclaimed : ' Call his father,' and the thought struck me that 
 he meant thee." 
 
 " Who exclaimed thus ?" 
 
 " I know not my heart and my mind felt so distressed : 
 I trembled and I prayed, and wtien it called to me, I under- 
 stood." 
 
 Wilhelm pressed her to his Heart, commended Felix to 
 her care, and then retired. He observed now that she was 
 much paler and thinner than before. The first of his friends 
 whom he met was Madame Melina. She saluted him in the 
 kindest manner. " I hope," she said, " that you may find 
 every thing amongst us correspond with your expectations." 
 " I doubt it," replied Wilhelm, " I do not anticipate so 
 much. But will you not admit candidly that all the neces- 
 sary arrangements have been made to dispense with my 
 services/' 
 
 " Why did you leave us ?" inquired his friend. 
 " We cannot too soon make the discovery," replied Wil- 
 helm, " how easily we may be dispensed with in the world. 
 WTiat important personages do we not esteem ourselves ? 
 We think that we alone animate the circle in which we live, 
 and we fancy that, in our absence, life, breath, and activity 
 would almost cease, but the gap which we leave is scarcely 
 noticed, it is soon filled up again by something better, or, 
 at least, by something more agreeable." 
 
 " But should we not feel for the sorrows of our friends ?" 
 
 " Our friends act wisely," he replied, " when they resume 
 
 their wonted composure, when each of them says to himself, 
 
444 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 ' Within thy own sphere accomplish what thou canst, be 
 active and cheerful, and find thy happiness in pursuing the 
 present.' " 
 
 Upon further inquiries, Wilhelm found, as he had long 
 anticipated, that the opera had been established and had 
 won the whole attention of the puftlic. His own parts had 
 been distributed to Laertes and Horatio, who succeeded in 
 gaining from the public a larger share of applause than had 
 ever fallen to his lot. 
 
 Laertes now entered, when Madame Melina exclaimed : 
 " Here comes one of the most fortunate of men ! He will 
 spon be a capitalist or something better !" Wilhelm embraced 
 him, and observed that his coat was of the finest cloth, and 
 though the rest of his apparel was simple, it was all made of 
 the very best material. 
 
 "Explain this enigma," cried Wilhelm. 
 
 " You have still time enough," said Laertes, " to learn 
 how my wanderings through the world are about to be 
 repaid. A partner in a large house of business is profiting 
 largely by my travels, my information, and my connections, 
 and he remunerates me accordingly. I would give much, 
 however, if I could recover my confidence in the sex, for 
 there is a pretty niece in the house, and I see plainly, that 
 if I chose, I could soon be a settled man." 
 
 " Perhaps you are not aware," said Madame Melina, " that 
 a wedding has lately taken place amongst us. Serlo has 
 been actually married to the fair Elmira, as her father would 
 no longer permit their secret attachment." 
 
 Thus they talked over many incidents which had occurred 
 during his absence, and Wilhelm could very easily perceive 
 that, in the estimation and opinion of the company, he had 
 long since been virtually dismissed. 
 
 He awaited, with much impatience, the promised visit of 
 old Barbara, who had agreed to come to him at a late hour 
 in the night. She was to visit him when every one was sunk 
 in sleep, and she had made the most careful and minute pre- 
 parations to escape detection. In the meantime, he read over 
 Mariana's letter a hundred times with inexpressible delight, 
 he dwelt upon the word faithful, which was written by her 
 own dear hand, and with deep sorrow he observed the allu- 
 sion to her death, of which she did not seem in the slightest 
 degree to apprehend the approach. 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 
 
 The hour of midnight had passed, when he heard a rust- 
 ling at the half open door of his apartment, and old Barbara 
 entered, carrying a small basket upon her arm. " I must 
 now," she began, " relate to you the story of our woes, 
 though I know you will listen to me without emotion, as 
 you are only anxious to satisfy your own curiosity, and you 
 will soon find shelter within your own selfishness, whilst our 
 hearts are breaking. But, behold ! Do you remember that 
 happy evening when I produced the bottle of champagne, 
 and \Vhen I placed three glasses upon the table, and you 
 began to deceive us and to lull us with your easy childish 
 tales, in the same manner that I must now waken and arouSe 
 you with my melancholy truths." 
 
 Wilhelm knew not what to say, when old Barbara actually 
 made the cork fly, and filled three glasses with the contents 
 of her bottle. 
 
 " Drink !" she cried, when she had emptied her spark- 
 ling glass, "drink before its virtue evaporates, this third 
 shall foam untasted to the memory of my hapli^s 
 .<l. How rosy were her lips when she, upon thai 
 evening, drank to your happiness Alas ! how eternally cold 
 and livid are they now !" 
 
 '/ Sibyl ! Fury !" cried Wilhelm, as he leaped up and 
 struck the table with his hand, " what evil spirit possesses 
 and impels you ? Of what can you suppose that I am made, 
 if you think the simplest statement of Mariana's sufferings 
 and death, will not sufficiently distress me, without these 
 hellish efforts to increase my torments. If your appetite 
 is so insatiable that you must riot at the very funeral table 
 drink and speak! You have ever been the object of my 
 aversion, and I can scarcely believe that Mariana herself was 
 guiltless, when I remember that she was your companion." 
 
 "Softly, Sir!" interrupted old Barbara. " You will not 
 succeed in provoking me. You owe us much, and we 
 ought not to feel irritated at the anger of a debtor. 
 But you are right. My simplest narrative ought to prove 
 to you a sufficient punishment. Listen then to the account 
 of Mariana's combat and victory, that you may be able to 
 endure your fate." 
 
 " My fate !" cried Wilhelm, " what story are you about to 
 tell ?" 
 
416 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 "Do not interrupt me," she continued, " listen, and then 
 believe me as you please it is all the same to me. Did 
 you not, on the last evening, that you spent with us, find a 
 note in Mariana's chamber, and carry it away ?" 
 
 " I found a note, it is true, after I had accidentally 
 carried it away. It was folded up in the neckhandkerchief, 
 which I had taken up, upon the sudden impulse of love, and 
 which I concealed within my bosom." 
 
 " What did that note contain ?" 
 
 " The hopes expressed by a disappointed lover, that he 
 would meet with a more favourable reception on the follow- 
 ing evening. And I need no assurance that his expectations 
 were fulfilled, for I saw him, with my own eyes, leave your 
 house at an early hour in the morning." 
 
 " Tou may have seen him, but you have yet to learn 
 how we spent that night, how sad a night it was to both 
 Mariana and myself. I will be candid with you, and will 
 neither deny that I persuaded Mariana to receive the 
 addresses of Norberg, nor shall I defend my conduct in so 
 doing ; she listened and obeyed my suggestions with the 
 utmost reluctance. He was rich, he seemed in love, and 1 
 hoped that he would prove constant. Shortly afterwards he was 
 compelled to set out upon a journey, and Mariana became 
 acquainted with you. What had I not from that moment 
 to resist, to oppose and to endure, ' Oh !' she would fre- 
 quently exclaim, 'if you had only spared my youth and 
 my innocence for a short time longer, I should have found 
 an object worthy of my love, one of whom I might myself 
 have proved worthy and 1 might have surrendered with 
 a safe conscience what I have now sold against my will.' 
 She was wholly devoted to you, and I need not ask if you 
 were happy. I possessed an unbounded power over her 
 mind, for I understood the means of satisfying her most 
 trifling wants, but I had no power over her heart, without 
 the approbation of which, she would never .sanction either 
 my conduct or my suggestions she only yielded to uncon- 
 querable necessity, and necessity soon visited us in the 
 most pressing form. In her early youth she had never 
 known what it was to want, her family, however, by a com- 
 plication of calamities at length lost all their property 
 the poor girl had been accustomed to all the comforts of iife, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 447 
 
 and her gentle spirit had been influenced by sound princi- 
 ples, which rendered her unhappy without contributing to 
 her relief. She was wholly without experience in worldly 
 matters and she was innocent in the strictest sense of the 
 word. She had not the slightest idea that one could 
 purchase without money, and in her mind there was no terror 
 more appalling than debt. She always gave more willingly 
 than she received, and nothing but such a state of affairs 
 could have compelled her to give herself away, in order that 
 she might be able to liquidate a host of small debts with 
 which she was encumbered." 
 
 " And could you not have saved her ?" inquired Wilhelm. 
 
 " Oh yes !" answered Barbara, "at the expense of hunger 
 and want, sorrow and privation, but for such sufferings I 
 was by no means prepared." 
 
 " Base and abominable wretch, to sacrifice the unhappy 
 innocent for the gratification of your insatiable appetite!" 
 
 u You had better calm your anger and restrain your 
 abuse," replied Barbara, "or if you will chide, visit the 
 noblest houses, and observe the mothers there, who are 
 anxious for the welfare of their lovely, heavenly girls, 
 sacrificing them to the most odious husbands for the sake of 
 \\ralth. See how the poor innocents shudder and tremble 
 at their fate, finding no consolation, save in the counsel of 
 some experienced female friend, who informs them that 
 marriage alone will confer upon them the power of dis- 
 posing of their hearts and persons as they please." 
 
 "Hush!" said Wilhelm, "do you think then that one 
 crime can be excused by the commission of another ? Pro- 
 ceed with your narration without any further observations." 
 
 "Then hear me, and withhold your censure. Mariana 
 became your's against her will. I do not deserve blame 
 for that. Norberg returned, and proceeded without delay 
 to visit Mariana. She received him with coldness, and 
 denied him even the privilege of a kiss. I tried all my arts 
 to excuse her conduct. I told him that her confessor had 
 awakened her scruples, and that they deserved to be 
 respected as long as they continued. I succeeded in 
 inducing him to withdraw, promising to use my best influ- 
 ence in his favour. He was rich and headstrong, but he 
 was kind-hearted and loved Mariana beyond expression. 
 
448 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 He promised to be patient, and therefore I exerted myself 
 the more earnestly that lie should not be too severely tried. 
 But I had a more difficult task to perform with Mariana, 
 but at length I induced her, indeed I may say that I com- 
 pelled her, by threatening to leave her service, to write to 
 Norberg and invite him to resume his visits. You came 
 at this juncture, and accidentally carried away his answer, in 
 the neckhandkerchief of w r hich you have spoken. Your un- 
 expected arrival interrupted the course of my proceedings. 
 You had scarcely gone away when she recommenced her 
 wailings ; she vowed that she would never be unfaithful to 
 you, and she became so passionate and so excited, that 
 I pitied her sincerely. At length, I promised her that for 
 this night I would pacify Norberg, and induce him by some 
 means or other to defer his visit. I entreated her to retire 
 to bed, but she would not trust me, and refused to comply 
 with my request. At length, exhausted with weeping and 
 violent agitation, she fell asleep without undressing. 
 
 " Norberg arrived, and I persuaded him to remain, but I 
 told him fully of her conscientious scruples and remorse. 
 He expressed a wish to see her, and I went to her room to 
 prepare her for his visit. He followed, and we both ap- 
 proached the bed together. She awoke, sprang up wildlv 
 and tore herself from our arms. She implored and begged, 
 wept, threatened, and vowed she would not yield. She was 
 imprudent enough, in some expressions which she used, to 
 advert to the true state of her feelings, but I induced Nor- 
 berg to interpret these in a spiritual sense. But at length 
 he retired and she locked the door. I detained him for some 
 time, and conversed with him about her state, informing him 
 that she was in the family way, and that she ought, therefore, 
 to be indulged. He felt so proud at the announcement that 
 he consented to every thing she asked, and determined to 
 set out upon his travels for a time, rather than displease her 
 by his presence, and perhaps injure her by occasioning those 
 mental irritations. So resolved, he took leave at an early 
 hour, and if, as you confess, you w r atched our house as a 
 sentry, you would have required nothing for the perfection 
 of your happiness than to have searched the bosom of your 
 rival, whom you considered so fortunate and so favoured, 
 and whose presence made you so desperate." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 449 
 
 " Are you speaking truly ?" asked Wilhelm. 
 
 " As truly," answered Barbara, 4 ' as 1 hope to drive you to 
 despair. And you could not but despair, if I were able cor- 
 rectly to describe the scene which occurred on the following 
 morning. How cheerfully did she awake, and call me to her 
 how sincerely did she thank me, and how affectionately 
 did she press me to her heart ! * No*** * she said, as she 
 approached her looking glass with a smile, 'now I may once 
 more feel proud of my looks and of my form, since I once 
 more belong to myself, and to my dearly loved friend. How 
 delightful it is to conquer ! How grateful do I feel for your 
 care of me, and for having turned your prudence and your 
 understanding to my advantage. Do not abandon me, and 
 you can contrive the means of rendering me happy.* I 
 assented, as I was unwilling to irritate her. I nattered 
 her hopes, and she caressed me tenderly. If she were ab- 
 sent from the window but for an instant, I was compelled to 
 keep watch, for you would surely pass by, and she wished at 
 least to see you. And thus we spent an anxious day. At 
 night, when the accustomed hour arrived, we expected you 
 without fail. I took my post upon the stairs, but the time 
 passed drearily away, and I returned to Mariana. To my 
 astonishment, I found her dressed in her officer's uniform, 
 and she looked unspeakably charming. * Do I not deserve/ 
 she asked, ' to appear in man's apparel ? Have I not acted 
 bravely ? My beloved shall see me to-day, once more, as he 
 first saw me, and I will press him to my heart as tenderly 
 and with more freedom than ever, for I am now entirely his, 
 and my noble resolution has rendered me completely free. 
 But,' she added, after a short pause, ' I have not even yet 
 quite succeeded. I must make another attempt to prove that I 
 am worthy of him, and that I may possess him entirely. . I 
 must disclose every thing, discover to him my whole condi- 
 tion, and leave it to himself to retain or to reject me. I 
 must prepare this scene for myself, and for my friend, 
 and if his feelings are capable of rejecting me, I shall then be- 
 long entirely to myself. I shall find consolation in my punish- 
 ment, and cheerfully submit to the dispensations of fate.' 
 
 " With these intentions, and with these hopes, the lovely 
 girl awaited your arrival. You came not. O ! how shall I 
 describe her anxiety and her suspense ? I see her still before 
 
 2 G 
 
450 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 me, and I hear once more the expressions of love and 
 ardent affection with which she spoke of the man of whose 
 cruelty she was not yet aware." 
 
 " G-ood, kind Barbara!" cried Wilhelm, as he sprung to 
 his feet and seized the old woman by the hand, " we have 
 had enough of artifice and preparation. Your calm, indif- 
 ferent, arid contented tone betrays you. Restore my Mari- 
 ana to me! She lives she is at hand. It was not for 
 nothing that you chose this late, this solitary hour, for your 
 visit not for nothing that you have prepared me with this 
 charming tale. Where is she ? Where have you concealed 
 hee ? I believe all I will promise to believe all, if you will 
 only show her to me, and you restore her to these arms. I 
 have beheld her image already, let me once more clasp her in 
 my arms. I will fall upon my knees and implore her pardon. 
 I will congratulate her upon the victory she has achieved 
 over herself, and I will take my Felix to her. Come, where 
 have you concealed her ? Keep me and her no longer in 
 uncertainty ! Your object is attained. Where have you 
 hidden her ? Come, let me light you with this candle, that I 
 may once more behold her sweet face!" 
 
 He had dragged old Barbara from her chair. She stared 
 at him, whilst the tears started from her eyes, and she was 
 seized with violent grief. " What unfortunate error," she 
 exclaimed, " allows you still to indulge a moment's hope ? 
 Yes, I have hidden her, but it is beneath the earth, where 
 neither the light of the sun nor any friendly taper shall 
 ever illumine her sweet face. Lead your affectionate Felix 
 to her grave, and tell him that there lies his mother, whom 
 his father condemned without a hearing. Her kind heart 
 throbs no more with impatience to behold you, nor is she 
 waiting in an adjoining chamber for the conclusion of my 
 story, or my fairy tale, but the dark chamber has received 
 her, whither no bridegroom will ever follow her, and from 
 whence none have ever yet returned to receive a lover's affec- 
 tionate embrace." 
 
 She flung herself upon the ground and wept bitterly. 
 Wilhelm now, for the first time, felt convinced that Mariana 
 was dead. He was in despair. Barbara arose, and exclaim- 
 ing, " I have nothing more to add," she threw down a 
 packet upon the table. " There are some letters," she 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 1 1 
 
 added, " which will make you blush for your cruelty. Peruse 
 them without a tear, if it be possible." She then retired 
 quietly, and Wilhelm had not courage that night to open 
 the packet. The pocket book had been a present from him- 
 self to Mariana, in which, as he well knew, she had been 
 accustomed carefully to preserve every letter that she 
 received from him. On the following morning, he took 
 courage, and untied the ribbon, when a multitude of little 
 notes met his eye, which had been written in pencil with her 
 own hand, and they reminded him of every incident which 
 had occurred, from the first day of their delightful acquaint- 
 ance, to the last of their sad separation. It was not, there- 
 fore, without feelings of the keenest anguish that he read the 
 notes which had been addressed to him, and which, as he 
 gathered from their tenor, had been returned to her by 
 Werner. 
 
 "None of my letters have as yet been able to reach you 
 my prayers and rny entreaties havebeen in vain. Did you 
 yourself give these cruel orders? And shall I never see you 
 more ? Once again, I will make an effort. I implore you 
 to come, O come ! I will not ask to detain you, if I may 
 but once more press you to my heart." 
 
 " When I formerly sat beside you, and held your hands, 
 and looked into your eyes, and said, with a heart full of con- 
 fidence, *O ! dear, dear, kind Wilhelm !' you used to hear mo 
 with such pleasure that I was obliged to repeat the same 
 words frequently. Once more I repeat them, * O, dear, dear, 
 kind Wilhelin ! be still kind as you were wont to be !' Come, 
 and leave me not to perish in my misery !" 
 
 " You deem me guilty, and I am so, but not to the extent 
 you think. Come, that I may enjoy the delight of bein^ 
 wholly known to you. Let my fate afterwards be what it may." 
 
 " Not for my sake only, but for your own, I implore of you 
 to come to me. I feel the insupportable agony which you 
 endure, whilst you fly from me. Come, then ! that our se- 
 paration may be less cruel. I was, perhaps, never worthy 
 of you, till this very moment, when you drive me to bound- 
 less misery." 
 
452 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 " I call to you by every thing that is sacred, by all that 
 can touch a human heart ! My life, my soul is in peril ; 
 two lives, of whom one, at least, must be for ever dear to 
 you. Your suspicious heart will not believe me, and yet I 
 will proclaim it in the hour of death. The infant, which I 
 carry beneath my heart, is thine. Since the moment when 
 I first loved you, no other person has ever pressed my hand. 
 O, that your love, that your virtue, had been the companions 
 of my youth !" 
 
 " You will not hear me ! Then I must at length be silent, 
 but these letters shall not perish. Perhaps they may speak 
 to you even yet, when the shroud has enveloped my lips, and 
 the voice of your repentance can no longer reach my ears. 
 During my sad life, till the last moment of my existence, this 
 will be my only consolation, that to you I have been guiltless, 
 though I cannot say I have been wholly free from blame." 
 
 Wilhelm could read no more. He abandoned himself 
 entirely to his sorrow. But he felt oppressed with grief 
 when Laertes made his appearance, and he sought to hide 
 his affliction from him. The latter drew out a purse full of 
 money, which he counted over and over, assuring Wilhelm 
 at the same time that there was nothing more delightful in 
 the world than to feel one's self upon the road to wealth, as 
 nothing then could disturb or restrain the freedom of our 
 actions. Wilhelm thought of his dream and smiled, but at 
 the same time he remembered with a shudder that in that 
 dream, Mariana had left him to follow his deceased father, 
 and that, at last, they had both hovered about the garden in 
 the form of spirits. 
 
 Laertes interrupted his reflections, and led him to a coffee 
 house, where a multitude of persons assembled round him, 
 who had formerly known him upon the stage. They ex- 
 pressed their joy at meeting him once more, but lamented 
 to hear that he intended to abandon the stage, and they 
 expressed such decided and reasonable opinions of his acting 
 and of his talents, and of their own hopes, that Wilhelm ex- 
 claimed at length, not without emotion, " O, how precious to 
 me would have been your sympathy but a few months ago ! 
 How instructive, how encouraging I should have found it ! 
 
APPRENTICESHIP 453 
 
 Never should I have so completely turned my mind from stage 
 affairs, or have gone so far as to despair of the public." 
 
 " We should never go to that extent," observed an elderly 
 man, who now stepped forward : " the public is a large body, 
 and correct judgment, and right feeling, are not such rare 
 qualities as one would suppose. But an artist never should 
 expect unconditional applause. Unconditional applause is 
 worth but little, and you, gentlemen, are not satisfied with 
 that which is conditional. 1 am aware that in life, as well as 
 in art, a man must consider well, before he accomplishes or 
 produces any thing, but when once his work is executed and 
 completed, he must hear with patient attention the opinions 
 of the multitude, and from them, with a little practice, he may 
 be able to form a sound judgment; but those persons, who 
 could easilv save us all this trouble, generally remain silent." 
 
 " They should not act thus," said Wilhelm. " But I have 
 often heard that men who never express an opinion with 
 regard to works of merit, are the loudest to complain of the 
 silence of others." 
 
 "Then we must speak out to-day," cried a young man. 
 " You must dine with us to-day, and we will pay off a debt 
 which we have Kmu: owed to you, and to the good Aurelia." 
 
 Wilhelm declined the invitation, and proceeded to the 
 house of Madame Melina, wishing to confer with her about 
 the children, as he thought of removing them from her. 
 
 Old Barbara's secret was not too faithfully kept by 
 "Wilhelm. No sooner did he see little Felix, than he bd- 
 t rayed himself. " O, my child, my darling child," he ex- 
 claimed, as hi* took him in his arms, and pressed him to his 
 heart. "* What have you brought for me, father?" cried the 
 child. Million looked at both of them, as if she would have 
 commanded them not to divulge the secret. 
 
 " What new miracle is this ?" inquired Madame Melina. 
 The children were taken away, and Wilhelm, who did IK t 
 conceive that he owed the strictest secrecy to old Barbara, 
 detailed the whole occurrence to his friend. Madame Melina 
 looked at him with a smile. " O, these credulous men !" 
 she exclaimed, " how easy is it to persuade them of anything 
 that is pleasant, but upon other occasions they will look 
 neither to the right nor to the left, and they value nothing 
 which has not previously received the impress of an arbi- 
 
4.54 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 trary passion." She could not repress a sigh, and if "Wilhelm 
 had not been completely blind, he could have detected in her 
 conduct a regard for him which had never been wholly sub- 
 dued. He now conversed with her about the children, as he 
 thought of keeping Felix himself, and of sending Mignon into 
 the country. Madame Melina, though unwilling to part with 
 either of them, approved of his design, and even considered 
 it necessary. Felix was becoming quite wild as long as he 
 remained with her, and Mignon seemed to require fresh air 
 and a change in her pursuits. The dear child was delicate, 
 and showed no symptoms of improvement. 
 
 " You are not to suppose," added Madame Melina, " that 
 I have thoughtlessly expressed my doubts about the child's 
 being really yours. The old woman is scarcely to be believed, 
 and if she can tell untruths for her own advantage, she 
 may speak truth when it is profitable. She has already per- 
 sutuled Aurelia that the boy is a child of Lothario's, and it is 
 the disposition of women cordially to like the children of 
 their lovers, even when they do not know their mothers, or 
 cordially detest them." Felix now came running into the room, 
 and Melina pressed him to her heart with unusual affection. 
 
 Wilhelm returned home, and sent for Barbara, but she 
 would not engage to meet him before the evening. He 
 received her angrily, and said, " There can bo nothing more 
 disgraceful than to tell lies for your own private advantage. 
 You have already done much mischief, and now, when your 
 words can decide the happiness of my life, I stand in doubt, 
 and dare not take that child in my arms, though to receive 
 him with full confidence would render me the happiest of 
 beings. Thou shameful creature, I cannot behold thee 
 without hatred aud contempt." 
 
 " Your conduct," replied the old woman, " if I must 
 {speak candidly, seems to me quite intolerable. For even if 
 he is not your son, he is the dearest and loveliest child in 
 the world, whom one would be glad to purchase at any 
 price, if it were only for the pleasure of his company. Is 
 he not worth your acceptance ? And do I not deserve a 
 pension for the rest of ray life, in consideration of my care, 
 and of the trouble which I have had with him ? O, you men, 
 who have never known want, may talk with ease of truth 
 and honesty, but a poor creature who cannot provide for 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 455 
 
 the smallest necessity, who in the hour of distress is wholly 
 destitute of friends, of advice and assistance, how she is to 
 overcome the selfishness of the world, or to starve in silence ? 
 this is a subject upon which I might say much, if you had 
 time or patience to hear me. Have you perused Mariana's 
 letters those which she wrote in the hour of her direst 
 distress ? In vain did I endeavour to find you, that I might 
 k r ive them into your own hands. Your cruel brother-in-law 
 had so contrived, that he defeated all my plans, and at length 
 wl u'ii he threatened me and Mariana with imprisonment, I 
 was compelled to abandon every hope. But does not every 
 event that has occurred agree with what I have said? 
 And does not Norberg's letter place the whole statement 
 bevond the possibility ot doubt ?" 
 
 " What letter?" asked Wilhelm. 
 
 '' Have you not found it in the pocket book ?" inquired 
 Barbara. 
 
 " I have not read them all :" answered "Wilhelm. 
 
 " Then give me the pocket book," continued she, " for upon 
 that letter every thing depends. Norberg's unfortunate 
 note occasioned the whole calamity, a subsequent one from 
 liis hand, may, perhaps, unravel the knot so far as any thing 
 may depend on our success." She took a letter from the 
 pocket book. "VVilhelm recognised the hated writing, but 
 iuing his feelings, he read: 
 
 " Explain to me, girl ! how you possess such influence 
 over me. I should never have thought that a Goddess 
 herself could have converted me into a sighing lover. In 
 place of receiving me with open arms, you avoid me, and I 
 could almost believe that your conduct arose from personal 
 dislike. How could you allow me to pass the whole night 
 with old Barbara, seated upon a trunk ? and all the time 
 my darling Mariana was but a few paces distant ! It is 
 really too bad ! But I have promised to allow you some 
 time for reflection, and not to force myself upon you, and I 
 shall regret every quarter of an hour which I thereby lose. 
 Have I not been as generous to you as I could? Do you 
 doubt my love? What do you require? tell me you shall 
 want for nothing. I pray that every evil may light upon the 
 eli Toyman who put such scruples into your head! Why 
 did you visit such a person ? There are plenty of others 
 
456 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 who would have made allowances for youth. But enough 
 I tell you that your conduct must change. In a day or 
 two I expect your answer, or I shall soon leave you again, 
 and if you do not become kind and friendly to me, you shall 
 see me no more." 
 
 The letter proceeded in this style to a considerable length, 
 and to Wilhelm's painful satisfaction, it always dwelt upon 
 the same point, which afforded evidence of truth of the 
 account that he had heard from Barbara. 
 
 A second letter proved beyond doubt that Mariana had 
 never acceded to his proposals, and from this and several 
 other papers, it was not without the deepest anguish that 
 Wilhelm made himself acquainted with the history of the un- 
 happy girl, even to the hour of her death. 
 
 Barbara had afterwards gradually subdued the harshness 
 of Norberg, by informing him of Mariana's death, and by 
 allowing him to suppose that Felix was his son. He had 
 accordingly remitted money to her upon several occasions, 
 which however she had always retained for herself, as she 
 had persuaded Aurelia to take charge of the child. But 
 unfortunately this secret mode of obtaining a livelihood did 
 not long continue. Norberg, by a life of dissipation, soon 
 squandered the greater part of his fortune, and repeated 
 love adventures hardened his heart against the child whom 
 he believed to be his own. 
 
 But although the whole of this statement appeared so 
 probable, and all the circumstances concurred admirably 
 together, Wilhelm was slow to abandon himself to joy, as he 
 seemed to dread receiving even a present from the hand of 
 so evil a genius. 
 
 " Time alone can cure your jealousy," said Barbara, who 
 guessed what was the condition of his mind. " Consider 
 the child, therefore, as a perfect stranger, and on that account 
 be more attentive to it. Observe its talents, its disposition, 
 its capabilities, and if you do not gradually discover the 
 perfect resemblance which it bears to yourself, you can 
 have but little discernment. I assure you, that if I were a 
 man, no one should ever succeed in forcing a child upon me, 
 but it is fortunate for women that men are not always so 
 quick-sighted." 
 
 After this, Wilhelm and Barbara separated. He wished 
 
APPRENTICE SHIP. 457 
 
 to take charge of Felix himself, that Mignon should be 
 taken to Theresa, and that Barbara should spend her days 
 wherever she pleased, supported by a little pension which 
 he proposed to settle upon her. 
 
 He accordingly sent for Mignon, that he might prepare 
 her for the proposed change. " Master !" she said, " keep 
 me with yourself it will be for my advantage and for my 
 sorrow." 
 
 He represented to her that she was now grown up, and 
 that something should be done for her further education. " I 
 am sufficiently educated," she answered, "to love and to 
 grieve." 
 
 He reminded her that her health required attention, and 
 that she stood in need of incessant care, and of the directions 
 of a skilful physician. " Why should any one care for me," she 
 replied, " when there are so many other things to care for ?" 
 
 After he had taken infinite trouble to convince her of the 
 impossibility of her remaining with him at present, and had 
 assured her that he would commit her to the care of some 
 friends, where she might frequently see him, she appeared 
 as if she had not heard a word that he had spoken. " Then 
 you will not allow me to remain with you !" she said. 
 " Perhaps it is better then to send me to the old Harper, 
 the poor man is so solitary." 
 
 Wilhelm endeavoured to explain to her that the old man 
 was now in comfortable circumstances. " I long for his 
 company every hour," replied the child. 
 
 " I never observed that you were so much attached to 
 him, whilst he lived with us," said Wilhelm. 
 
 " I was afraid of him," replied Mignon, " when he was 
 awake I could not bear to see his eyes but when he slept, 
 I liked to sit beside him, and to keep the flies from him, 
 and then I never tired of looking at him. O, he has been 
 a comfort to me in fearful moments ! No one knows how 
 deeply I am indebted to him. If I had only known the 
 way. I should long since have fled to him." 
 
 Wilhelm now explained his intentions fully, saying that 
 Mignon had always been a reasonable child, and that she 
 might, upon this occasion, do as she pleased. " O, reason is 
 cruel," she replied, " the heart is better ! But 1 will go 
 wherever you wish, only leave little Felix with me." 
 
458 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 After much discussion, she persisted in her request, and 
 Wilhelm was obliged to consent that both children should 
 be entrusted to old Barbara, who was to send them together 
 to Theresa. He came to this decision the more easily, as he 
 still feared to acknowledge the beautiful Felix as his own 
 child. But he took him in his arms, and carried him about. 
 The child loved to be held before the looking-glass, and 
 Wilhelm felt a secret delight in holding him there, and in 
 tracing a likeness between them. When he thought he had 
 discovered a momentary resemblance, he pressed the child 
 to his bosom, but suddenly alarmed at the thought that lie 
 ini^ht have been deceived, he would set him down and let 
 him run away. " Alas !" he would then explain, " if I could 
 only be certain that this priceless treasure were mine, and 
 it then to be taken from me, I should be the most 
 wretched of men !" 
 
 The children w r ere now removed, and Wilhelm deter- 
 mined to take a formal leave of the stage, but he felt that 
 this had been already done, and that it only remained for 
 him now to take his departure. Mariana vas dead, his 
 two guardian angels had gone away, and his thoughts 
 followed them. The lovely Felix still floated like a charming 
 but uncertain vision before his fancy, he saw him at Theresa's 
 side, running through the fields and woods, and receiving 
 his education in the free air, from a free and cheerful 
 protectress ; and Theresa became dearer to him than 
 ever, as his mind dwelt upon her, in connection with his 
 little Felix. Even as a 'spectator in the theatre he thought 
 of her with smiles, and he felt that he was almost in her 
 own condition, as theatrical representations no longer pro- 
 duced an illusion in his mind. 
 
 Serlo and Melina treated him with extreme politeness as 
 soon as they observed that he made no further pretensions 
 to resuming his former place. A portion of the public were 
 desirous that he should appear before them again, but this was 
 an impossibility, and of the company themselves none seemed 
 to wish it, with the exception perhaps of Madame Melina. 
 
 Of this latter friend he now took final leave, his heart was 
 moved, and he could not avoid exclaiming, " O, that men 
 should ever presume to promise themselves any thing which 
 depends upon the future ! Even upon the veriest trifle they 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 459 
 
 can place no relianceto say nothing of those tilings 
 which are of importance. How do I blush to think of the 
 promise which 1 made to you upon that unfortunate liight 
 when we all lay robbed, ill and wounded in that miserable 
 tavern. How did misfortune then elevate my courage, and 
 what resources did I not expect to find in my good inten- 
 tions ! but alas ! they have produced nothing. I leave you 
 as your debtor, and it is my happiness to find that none of 
 you valued my promises beyond their worth, and that I have 
 never since been reminded of them.'* 
 
 " Do not be so unjust towards yourself," said Madame 
 Melina, " if no other person will acknowledge what you 
 have done for us, I at least shall never forget it ; for our 
 whole condition would have been different, if we had not 
 possessed the advantage of your presence. It is with our 
 intentions as with our wishes. They no longer wear the 
 same appearance when they have been accomplished when 
 once fulfilled, we consider that we have obtained nothing." 
 
 " Your kind explanation," answered Wilhelm, " will 
 ely suffice to tranquillize my conscience, and I shall 
 always* consider myself to be your debtor." 
 
 " It is quite possible," answered Madame Melina, " that 
 you may really be so, but not in the precise way that you 
 suppose. We consider it disgraceful not to perform a verbal 
 promise which we have engaged to fulfil. O, my friend, the 
 very presence of & good man promises much. The confidence 
 which he elicits, the attachment which he creates, the hopes 
 which he awakens, are unbounded; he becomes our debtor 
 and will continue so, though he be not aware of the obliga- 
 tion. Farewell ! if our outward circumstances have been 
 fortunately restored through your assistance, your absence 
 will create a void in my bosom which I shall find it difficult 
 to fill." 
 
 Before his departure from the town, Wilhelm addressed a 
 long letter to Werner. They had already exchanged several 
 letters, but as they had differed about several matters, their 
 correspondence had been interrupted. But now, they 
 were approaching nearer to each other, Wilhelm was on the 
 point of complying with the earnest wishes of his friend 
 he could now say, " I am about to abandon the stage, and to 
 associate with men whose connection will, in all respects, lead 
 
460 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 me to commence a pure and active life. He made some in- 
 quiries about his property, and it seemed to him strange that 
 for s* long a time he should have troubled himself so little 
 about his affairs. He knew not that it was the habit of 
 men, who are wholly engaged in the cultivation of their 
 minds, absolutely to neglect their outward affairs. Wilhelm 
 had found himself in this condition, but he now began, for 
 the first time, to recollect that in order to work effectively, 
 he required the assistance of outward means. He pursued 
 his journey therefore in a different temper than formerly 
 the prospects which he saw before him were encouraging, 
 and he hoped to meet with happiness upon his way. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 he arrived at Lothario's castle, he found that a 
 great change had taken place there. Jarno came to meet 
 him with the news that Lothario's uncle had died, and that 
 he himself had set out to take possession of his estates. 
 " You are come," he continued, " at a fit time to render as- 
 sistance to the Abbe, and to me. Lothario has commissioned 
 me to purchase some valuable estates in the neighbourhood. 
 The whole matter has been well considered, and we are 
 provided with both money and credit at a most favourable 
 moment. One circumstance, however, has occasioned some 
 delay. A house of business, established at some distance 
 from here, has contemplated making the same purchase, and 
 we have resolved to enter into an agreement together, as 
 otherwise we might perhaps outbid each other without reason 
 or necessity. It appears that we have to deal with a clever 
 man. We are at present engaged in making our estimates 
 and calculations, and we must consider particularly how the 
 lands are to be divided, so that each of us may possess a 
 valuable estate. All the papers were accordingly submitted 
 to Wilhelm they contained an account of the fields, the 
 meadows and the castles, and though Jarno and the Abbe 
 appeared to be well acquainted with business, Wilhelm could 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 461 
 
 not help wishing that Theresa had been called in to their 
 assistance. 
 
 They were en^a^ed for many days in these labours, and 
 Wilhelm could scarcely find time to acquaint his friends with 
 his late adventure, or with his doubtful paternity, but they 
 treated the circumstance with the utmost indifference and 
 levity, although it was to him an event of the greatest im- 
 portance. 
 
 He had frequently remarked their habit of suddenly pausing 
 at table, or during their walks, when they entered into confi- 
 dential communications together, and gave a private mean- 
 ing to their words thus shewing that they were engaged in 
 some pursuits with which he was unacquainted. He now 
 remembered what Lydia had formerly told him, and he gave 
 credit to it all with the more confidence as one side of the 
 castle had always been inaccessible to him. It contained 
 some long corridors and galleries, and there was one old tower 
 in particular, with whose exterior he was well acquainted, 
 but to which he had long sought to obtain entrance in vain. 
 
 One evening Jarno said to him, " We now look upon you 
 as our friend, and it would be unjust not to admit you to a 
 fuller participation in our secrets. It is proper for a man, 
 upon his first entrance into life, to think highly of himself, 
 and endeavour to attain distinction, as well as conceive that 
 all things are possible, but when his education has reached a 
 certain point, then it is more advantageous that he should 
 lose himself in the great mass of mankind, that he 
 should learn to live for others, and forget himself in a course 
 of conscientious duty. He then becomes acquainted with 
 himself for the first time, for it is by our conduct that we 
 are enabled to compare ourselves with others. You shall 
 eoon know what a little world there is in your immediate 
 neighbourhood, and how intimately you are known within its 
 limits. To-morrow morning, before sunrise, be dressed and 
 ready." 
 
 Jarno came at the appointed hour, and conducted him 
 through various apartments of the castle, and then passing 
 along some narrow galleries, they arrived at length at an old 
 and massive door, which was strongly incased with iron. 
 Jarno knocked, the door opened a little, so that a man could 
 just force his way in. Jarno pushed Wilhelm through the 
 
462 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 narrow aperture, but did not follow him. "Wilhelm now 
 found himself in an obscure and confined chamber, and when 
 he endeavoured to advance, he felt his progress obstructed. 
 A voice, with which he was not wholly unacquainted, desired 
 him to enter ; and he now perceived that the sides of the 
 chamber were hung with curtains, through which a feeble 
 light was just visible. "Come in!" exclaimed the voice 
 again, and raising up the curtain, he entered. 
 
 The room in which he now found himseif appeared to have 
 been formerly a chapel, but the altar had been removed and 
 replaced with a large table, which stood upou steps, and was 
 covered with a green cloth. Some tapestry was seen above 
 it, which appeared to conceal a picture. The sides of the 
 apartment were ornamented with some elaborately worked 
 presses, enclosed with a fine netting of wire, as we are ac- 
 customed to see them in libraries ; but in place of books, 
 they were filled with rolls of parchment. There was 110 
 creature in the room, and the rising sun shone upon Wilhelm, 
 as it beamed through the painted windows, and kindly greeted 
 him. 
 
 " Sit down !" cried a voice, which seemed to come from the 
 altar. Wilhelm took possession of a small arm-chair, which 
 stood before the entrance of the apartment. There was no 
 other seat in the room, and Wilhelm was therefore forced to 
 occupy it, although the morning sun dazzled him. The seat 
 was immoveable, and he had no resource but to shade his eyes 
 with his hand. 
 
 In the mean time the curtain over the altar opened with 
 a rustling noise, and shewed a dark empty space within a 
 picture frame. A man now stepped forward, clothed in or- 
 dinary apparel, who bowed to him, saying, " Do you not 
 recognize me once more do you not desire to know, among 
 other things, what is become of the collection of natural 
 curiosities which once belonged to your grandfather ? Have 
 you forgotten the picture which you formerly thought so 
 charming? Where do you suppose that the King's son is 
 now pining away ?" Wilhelm at once recognized the , 
 stranger, who had conversed with him at the inn, upon that 
 important night. u Perhaps," continued he, " we shall 
 now agree better upon the subjects of Destiny and Che- 
 racter." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 463 
 
 Wilhelm was about to make a reply, but the curtain sud- 
 denly closed. " Strange !" he whispered to himself, " is it 
 possible that accidental occurrences can have this connection 
 and can what we term Destiny be nothing more than 
 Chance ? Where can my grandfather's collection be at 
 present ? and why am I reminded of it at this solemn mo- 
 ment ?" 
 
 He had scarcely time for further reflection before the 
 curtain again opened, and a man appeared, whom lie recog- 
 nized as the country clergyman who had joined him and his 
 happy party in their sail upon the river ; he resembled the 
 Abbe, and yet he seemed to be a different person. "With a 
 cheerful countenance and dignified expression he com- 
 menced. " It is not the duty of the tutor to guard his pupil 
 from error, but to guide the erring steps of his youth, and 
 it is even wise in the instructor to allow him to satiate his 
 appetite with folly. He who only tastes his error will dally 
 with it lonir, and enjoy it as a rare delight, but he who ex- 
 hausts it completely, will learn its worthlessness, if he be 
 not wholly senseless." The curtain closed once more, 
 and Wilhelm again had time for reflection. " To what error 
 can the man allude ?" he thought, " but that which has pur- 
 sued me through my whole life, and has induced me to seek 
 for instruction where it was not to be found to fancy that 
 I possessed a talent, to which I had not the smallest pre- 
 tensions." 
 
 The curtain opened more swiftly than before. An officer 
 appeared, and said, as he passed by rapidly, " Learn to know 
 the men in whom you may confide !" The curtain closed, 
 and Wilhelm did not require much reflection to perceive 
 that this was the officer who had embraced him in the 
 Count's park, and had caused him to believe that Jarno 
 was a recruiting officer. But who this person really 
 was, or how he had found his way hither, was a mystery 
 which he could not explain. "If so many persons," he 
 thought, " feel interested for you, and know your way of 
 life, and how it should have been pursued, why have they 
 not guided you with a firmer and a stricter hand ? Why 
 have they rather encouraged than forbade your folly ?" 
 
 " Argue not with us," cried a voice, " you are saved, and 
 on the road to happiness. You will never repent nor repeat 
 
464 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 your follies and this is the happiest destiny which can be 
 allotted to man." The curtain opened once again, and the 
 old King of Denmark stood within the picture frame. " I 
 am thy father's spirit !" said the figure, "and now I depart 
 in comfort, since my wishes for thee are accomplished more 
 fully than I myself could have anticipated. Steep ascents 
 must be approached by winding paths, once upon the sum- 
 mit straight roads conduct from place to place. Farewell, 
 remember me when thou enjoyest what I have provided for 
 thee !" 
 
 Wilhelm was astonished. He thought he heard his father 
 speak, and yet the voice was unlike his. He was perplexed 
 between the occurrences of the present and the renu-m- 
 brances of the past. 
 
 lie had not reflected long before the Abbe came forward 
 and placed himself behind the green table. " Come hither!" 
 he cried to his astonished friend. Wilhelm advanced and 
 ascended the steps. A small roll of parchment lay before 
 him " Here are your indentures !" said the Abbe. " Take 
 thorn to your heart -- they are of deep importance." Wilhelm 
 took them in his hand, opened them, and read. 
 
 " INDENTURE. 
 
 " Art is long, life is short ; judgment is difficult, oppor- 
 tunity fleeting. To act is easy to think is difficult, arid to 
 act pursuant to our thoughts is troublesome. Every begin- 
 ning is pleasant. The threshold is the place of expectation. 
 The boy wonders, the impression strikes, he learns as a pas- 
 time ; seriousness takes him by surprise. Imitation is born 
 with us, but what we should imitate is not easily discerned, 
 and more rarely valued. The summit charms us, not the 
 ascent with the height before our eyes, we love to linger in 
 the plain. Only a portion of art can be taught, but the 
 artist needs the whole. He who is only half instructed, 
 ever errs and talks much. He who knows it all, is content 
 with performing, and speaks little or late. The former has 
 no secrets and no force his teaching is like baked bread, 
 pleasant and sufficient for a day, but flour cannot be sown, 
 and seed corn should not be ground. Words are good, but 
 there is something better. The best cannot be explained by 
 words. The spirit in which we act is the chief matter. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 465 
 
 Action can only be only understood and represented by the 
 spirit. No man knows what lie is doing whilst he acts well, 
 but of doing ill we are always conscious. He who only works 
 u ith symbols is a pedant, a hypocrite, or a bungler. They are 
 a numerous class, and associate well together. Their cant 
 impedes the scholar, and their unvarying mediocrity afflicts 
 the best. The instruction of the genuine artist opens the 
 mind for where words fail, his performance speaks. The 
 genuine scholar learns from the known to develop the un- 
 known, and so he gradually becomes a master." 
 ^ 
 
 " Enough !" cried the Abbe, " the rest at its proper time. 
 Now turn your eyes upon these presses ." 
 
 Wilhelm adyanced and read the inscriptions upon the 
 parchment rolls. He observed with astonishment, Lothario's 
 apprenticeship, Jarno's apprenticeship, and his own appren- 
 ticeship recorded there, with many others, to whose names 
 as a stranger. 
 
 " May I ever hope to examine these rolls ?" 
 
 " In this chamber there is nothing now to be concealed 
 from you." 
 
 .May I ask one question ?" 
 
 "AVithout doubt, and you may expect a decisive answer 
 if it relates to any subject which lies nearest to your heart, 
 and ought properly to be there." 
 
 " I am content. Tell me, ye mysterious sages, whose look 
 can penetrate so many secrets tell me, if you can, whether 
 Felix is really my son ?" 
 
 44 A blessing attend you for that question !" cried the 
 Abbe, clasping his hands together for joy. " Felix is your 
 son ! I swear to you by all that is most sacred, and which 
 lies hidden from us, that he is your son ! and in our estima- 
 tion, his mother, who is dead, was not unworthy of you. 
 Receive the dear child from our hands, look round and dare 
 to be happy." 
 
 Wilhelm heard a rustling noise behind him. He turned 
 about, and beheld a child's face peeping playfully through the 
 curtain at the door of the apartment it was Felix. The 
 boy hid himself as soon as he was observed. " Come for- 
 ward," cried the Abbe. He ran forward. His father rushed 
 to meet him, took him in his arms, and pressed him to his 
 
 2 H 
 
4(56 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 bosom. " Yes ! I feel it," he exclaimed, " thou art mine ! 
 For what a precious gift of Heaven am I not indebted to my 
 friends ! From whence dost thou come, my child, at this 
 important moment ?" 
 
 u Do not inquire!'' replied the Abb6. "Hail to thee, 
 young man ! Thy apprenticeship is finished nature has set 
 thee free." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 467 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FELIX sprang into the garden. Wilhelm followed him with 
 rapture. A beautiful morning had clad every object with 
 ne\v charms, and Wilhelm felt indescribably happy. Felix 
 was a stranger in the new and glorious world, and his father 
 was not much better acquainted with the various objects 
 about which the boy made such repeated and incessant in- 
 quiries. At length they joined the gardener, who informed 
 them of the names and of the uses of a multitude of plants. 
 Wilhelm beheld nature in a new aspect, and the inquisitive 
 curiosity of the child occasioned him now to feel how slight 
 an interest he had hitherto taken in external things, and 
 how limited was his real knowledge. Upon this day, th 
 very happiest of his life, it appeared as if his education was 
 actually beginning, and he felt the necessity of instructing 
 his own mind, now that he was called upon to teach. 
 
 Jarno and the Abbe did not return till evening, when 
 they were accompanied by a stranger. Wilhelm received 
 him with astonishment, and scarcely believed his eyes when 
 he saw Werner, who for a moment was equally surprised at 
 recognizing him. They embraced each other affectionately, 
 and each expressed his opinion that he thought the other 
 considerably altered. Werner declared that his friend was 
 taller, stouter, more erect, more polished in his bearing, and 
 more pleasing in his manner. " And yet I miss something 
 of your old true-heartedness," he added. " It will appear 
 aijain," replied Wilhelm, "when we have recovered a little 
 from our first astonishment." 
 
 Werner, however, had not made so favourable an impres- 
 sion upon Wilhelm. The former appeared rather to havr 
 
408 WILHELM MEISTEll's 
 
 retrograded than advanced. He was thinner than formerly, 
 his sharp features appeared to have grown finer, his nose was 
 longer, his head had become bald, his voice was clear, loud, 
 and shrill, and his hollow breast, his drooping shoulders, and 
 pale cheeks, placed it beyond doubt that he had become a 
 melancholy man of business. 
 
 Wilhelrn was prudent enough to say little about the 
 change which he observed, whilst Werner, on the contrary, 
 was loud in the expression of his friendly joy. "Really," 
 he exclaimed, " if, as I suspect, you have spent your time 
 un profitably, and have not grown rich, you have, at least, 
 become a man who must surely win a fortune. Do 
 not spend and waste this capability at all events. "With 
 your figure, you cannot fail of winning a rich and beautiful 
 heiress." " Ah !" cried Wilhelm. smilingly, " I see you do 
 not belie your former character. Scarcely do you see your 
 friend after his long absence, than you look upon him as a 
 bale of goods, a matter of speculation, something of which 
 money may be made." 
 
 Jarno and the Abbe* did not appear astonished at this 
 recognition, and they allowed both friends to discourse freely 
 upon past and present events. Werner walked round and 
 round Wilhelm, and turned him about on all sides, so as 
 completely to embarrass him. u No," he cried, at length, 
 " I liave never seen any thing like it, and yet I know that I 
 am not mistaken. Your eyes are deeper, your forehead 
 wider, your nose is finer, and your mouth handsomer than 
 before. And only look how he stands ! How every thing 
 seems to suit and to agree ! There is nothing like idleness ! 
 As for a poor fellow like me," he continued, as he surveyed 
 his figure in the glass, " if I had not been making money 
 all this time, I should have been absolutely ruined." 
 
 Werner had not received Wilhelm' s last letter. His was 
 the house of business with which Lothario had intended to 
 enter into an agreement for the purchase of the estate. It 
 was this business which had brought Werner hither, and he 
 had not the slightest notion of meeting Wilhelm on his 
 way. The lawyer came, the papers were produced, and 
 Werner found the terms reasonable. " If your intentions 
 are kind," he observed, " as they appear to be towards this 
 young man, take care that our share of the estate is suffi- 
 
APPBENTICES11IP. 469 
 
 cient, and be shall have the option of investing part of his 
 fortune in its purchase." Jarno and the Abbe assured him 
 that they did not stand in need of this suggestion. Scarcely 
 had they discussed the business in general terms, than Wer- 
 ner expressed a wish for a game at ombre, in which he was 
 immediately joined by Jarno and the Abbe. He had now 
 grown so accustomed to play, that he could not pass an 
 evening without such amusement. 
 
 When the two friends were seated together at table, they 
 conversed familiarly about every thing that had occurred. 
 Wilhelm boasted of his present mode of life, and of his 
 good fortune in having been admitted into such high society. 
 Werner, however, only shook his head, and said, " For the 
 future, I shall believe nothing but what I see with my own 
 eyes. More than one officious friend assured me that you 
 were living with a dissipated young nobleman, and supplying 
 him with actresses, while you helped him to spend his money, 
 and to quarrel with his relations." " I should be sorry," 
 answered Wilhelm, " both for my own sake and that of my 
 kind friends, at having been so much calumniated, if my 
 theatrical career had not rendered me tolerant of evil 
 tongues. How seldom can men form an opinion of our con- 
 duct, which they see only in parts and fragments, while vice 
 and virtue are pursued in secret, and little more than indif- 
 ferent actions are done in public. Actors and actresses 
 appear upon the open stage, lights burn brightly on every 
 side, and yet the whole performance is over in a few hours, 
 and few persons know what to make of it." 
 
 Wilhelm proceeded to inquire about his family, his young 
 friends, and the occurrences of his native town. Werner 
 informed him rapidly of the changes which had taken place, 
 andof the present condition of things. " The women at home," 
 he said, " are happy and content, for they stand in no need of 
 money. They spend one half of their time in dressing, and 
 the other half in showing themselves when dressed. They 
 attend tolerably well to housekeeping. My boys are becom- 
 ing clever youths. I already see them in spirit sitting at 
 their desks, and writing, reckoning, trafficking, and trading. 
 They shall all have a pursuit of their own, as soon as possi- 
 ble, and as for our fortune, you will be quite pleased with 
 its present condition. When we have arranged about our 
 
470 WILIIELM MEISTER'S 
 
 purchase of the estate, you must return home with us, for it 
 seems to me that you could now transact business with 
 some skill. Tour new friends deserve great praise for having 
 directed your steps into the proper way of life. 1 have been 
 a sad simpleton, and have only now discovered how much I 
 love you, as I am never tired of admiring your handsome 
 appearance. But you are very different from the portrait 
 which you sent to your sister, and which occasioned such an 
 nit creation in our family. Tour mother and sister were quite 
 delighted to see you with your loose collar, open breast, long 
 pendant, hair, round hat, short vest, and long wide panta- 
 loons, while I, on the other hand, maintained that such a 
 costume made you resemble a harlequin. But now you look 
 more like a reasonable being ; you only want a cue, ill 
 which I entreat that you will bind your hair, otherwise you 
 will be taken for a Jew, and be compelled to pay tax and 
 tribute." 
 
 Felix, in the mean time, had come into the apartment, and 
 as no notice had been taken of him, had laid himself down on 
 the sofa, and fallen asleep. " What child is that ?" in- 
 quired Werner. Wilhelm, at the moment, had not courage 
 to tell the truth, and he was unwilling to relate an ambi- 
 guous tale to a person who was not over credulous. 
 
 The whole party now proceeded to the lands, in order to 
 examine them and conclude the bargain. Wilhelm did not 
 allow Felix to leave his side, and, for the child's sake, he 
 rejoiced at the intended purchase. The eagerness of little 
 Felix in pursuit of the fruits and berries which were be- 
 coming ripe, reminded him of his own youth, and of the 
 manifold duties of a parent to procure and maintain a suc- 
 cession of enjoyments for his children. With how much 
 interest did he not survey the nurseries and the surrounding 
 building ! How clearly did he not see the necessity of 
 repairing what was neglected, and of restoring what was 
 decayed ! He no longer looked upon the world with the 
 eve of a bird of passage, nor did he now consider a building 
 which we are to inhabit as a hastily constructed bowrj-. 
 which is destined soon to wither. He determined that 
 every thing which he now began for his child should be 
 completed, and that whatever he constructed should last for 
 several generations. In this sense, his apprenticeship was 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 471 
 
 now ended, and, with the feelings of a father, he had now 
 acquired all the virtues of a citizen. He felt this, and his 
 joy was extreme. " O ! the needless severity of morals," 
 
 ould exclaim ; "since nature alone, by her own kind 
 courses, will lead us to every thing that we require. O ! 
 strange demands of civil society! which, in the first place, 
 perplex and mislead, and then exact more from us than ever 
 nature demands! Woe to every kind of education .which 
 destroys the means of obtaining true culture, and points 
 our attention to the end, instead of securing our happiness 
 on the way." 
 
 Notwithstanding his experience of life, it seemed as if his 
 
 -vat ion of this child, was giving him his first clear in- 
 sight into human nature. Both the theatre and the world 
 now appeared to him as a multitude of thrown dice, upon 
 whose upper surface a higher or a lower number was marked, 
 
 v, hie. h, when added together, make up a certain sum. 
 But here, in this child, one single die \\as placed before him, 
 upon whose several sides the value and the worthlessness 
 of human nature was plainly indicated. 
 
 The boy's thirst for information increased every day. 
 Having once learned that things had names, he became 
 anxious to know the name of every thing. Believing that 
 his father could be ignorant of nothing, he teazed him with 
 a multitude of questions, and compelled him to inquire into 
 
 j objects to which he would otherwise have given no 
 attention. He soon showed that he possessed an innate 
 
 sition to investigate the origin and end of all things. 
 When he inquired whence came the wind, or whither went 
 the flame, his father first became aware of his own limited 
 capaeity, and wished to learn how far man might venture 
 with his thoughts, and upon what things he might hope to 
 enlighten himself or others. The boy's anger, when he 
 beheld any living thing unjustly suffering, pleased Wilhe'in 
 exceedingly, as it afforded evidence of his generous dispusi- 
 Upon one occasion he struck the cook violently for 
 ha\ ing cut up some pigeons; but the favourable impression 
 which this produced upon Wilhelm, was soon afterwards 
 dr.M royed, when he saw him mercilessly killing frogs or ; 
 inij butterflies to pieces. These little occurn 
 minded him of the habits of mankind, who are extremely 
 
472 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 virtuous, as long as they are free from temptation, or are 
 only engaged in criticising the conduct of their neighbours. 
 
 The delightful feeling that the boy was producing so 
 wholesome and beneficial an influence upon his own mind, was 
 however disturbed for a moment, when Wilhelm observed that 
 Felix was rather educating him than he Felix. He was 
 unable to correct the child's habits, and he could give his 
 mind no direction w r hich was not quite spontaneous : as even 
 those faults with which Aurelia had so resolutely striven, 
 were resumed again, after the death of that kind instructress. 
 Felix would still leave the door open behind him, would 
 refuse to eat from his plate, and enjoyed no greater pleasure 
 than to find that he was not watched, when he could help 
 himself from the dish, or drink out of the decanter. He 
 was also highly delighted w r hen he could sit down in the 
 corner with his book, and say, with a serious look, " I must 
 study this learned stuff!" though he was ignorant of his 
 letters, and refused to learn them. 
 
 When Wilhelm considered how little he had hitherto 
 done for Felix, and how little he was capable of accomplish- 
 ing, he became so restless that his whole happiness was dis- 
 turbed. " Are we then so selfish by nature," he would 
 whisper to himself, " that we are incapable of caring for any 
 being but ourselves ? Is my conduct towards Felix diffe- 
 rent from what it was towards Mignon ? I engaged the 
 child's affections, her presence delighted me, and I afterwards 
 cruelly neglected her. What have I done for her education, 
 about which I evinced such anxiety ? Nothing. I left 
 her to herself, or exposed her to all the accidents which 
 could befal her in the coarse society of uneducated men. 
 And now for this boy, who was so interesting to me before 
 I knew his value, has my heart ever required me to render 
 him the smallest service ? It is now too late to waste my 
 own time, or that of others I must take courage and think 
 how I should labour for myself, and for the kind creature, to 
 whom I am so warmly attached by the ties of nature and 
 affection." 
 
 This soliloquy was but an introduction to the admission 
 that he had already reflected deeply, that he had experienced 
 much anxiety, and that he had sought and made his 
 choice. He could no longer hesitate to confess it. After 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 473 
 
 intense and vain anguish at the loss of Mariana, he had 
 felt too clearly that he must seek a mother for his child, 
 and that it would be impossible to find one superior to 
 Theresa. He was thoroughly acquainted with that incom- 
 parable woman. She seemed to be precisely the companion 
 to whom he ought to entrust his dearest interests. Her 
 honourable attachment to Lothario gave him no uneasiness. 
 A strange destiny had separated them for ever. Theresa 
 deemed herself free, and she had already spoken of marriage 
 with the utmost indifference, though she seemed to consider 
 it as an event which was perfectly understood. 
 
 After loni; consideration he determined to acquaint her 
 with his whole history, so far as it was comprehended by 
 himself. He wished that she should know him as thoroughly 
 as he was known to him>elf, and accordingly he began to re- 
 riVet upon his past life, but it seemed so barren of events, 
 or, at least, so little to his credit, that he was more than 
 once on the point of abandoning his intention. At length 
 he resolved to apply to Jarno for the roll of his apprentice- 
 ship, which lie had seen in the tower. The latter answered 
 that he had applied for it at the proper moment, and Wil- 
 helm accordingly received it from him. 
 
 It cannot be without a feeling of awe, that a noble mind 
 should hear a full and candid revelation of his whole past 
 history. Every period of transition is a crisis, and there 
 can be no crisis without a disease. How unwillingly do we 
 survey ourselves in the glass, after having suffered from a 
 long sickness ! We feel that our health is restored, but we 
 see only the effects of the past illness. Wilhelm, however, 
 was sufficiently prepared events had already spoken to him 
 loudly his friends had never spared him, and even if he now 
 unrolled the parchment with unseemly haste, his mind be- 
 came more and more tranquil the farther he perused. He 
 saw the various scenes of his past life delineated with a few 
 bold sharp strokes, and neither trivial events nor narrow 
 thoughts perplexed his view, but the most generous reflec- 
 tions instructed him, without rendering him ashamed. He 
 now beheld his picture for the first time not, indeed, his 
 second self as in a mirror, but his other self, as in a portrait, 
 and though such likenesses may not resemble us in every 
 feature, we rejoice at having been so well understood and 
 
4/4 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 represented by genius and talent, that an image of ourselves 
 exists, and may endure when we ourselves have passed 
 away. 
 
 As the manuscript recalled all past events to Wilhelm's 
 memory, he now employed himself in writing out a sketch of 
 his life for Theresa's perusal, and he felt ashamed that in 
 comparison with the great talents which she possessed, he 
 had nothing to show, and was even deficient in the common 
 virtue of a useful activity. Although the account which he 
 gave of himself was circumstantial, the letter which accom- 
 panied it was brief. He sought her friendship, and, if 
 possible, her love ; he offered her his hand, and implored her 
 speedy decision. 
 
 After an inward struggle whether he should communicate 
 this important event to his friends, Jarno and the Abbe, he 
 determined to remain silent. He felt that the business was 
 of too much importance to him to be submitted to the judg- 
 ment even of the most prudent or the best of men, and, 
 therefore, he took the precaution of committing his letter to 
 the nearest post with his own hands. Perhaps the know- 
 ledge that he had been observed, and even guided, in many 
 actions of his life, which, according to his own belief, he had 
 performed spontaneously or in secret a fact which was 
 made apparent by the roll which he had perused had pro- 
 duced an unpleasant feeling in his mind, and he now felt 
 anxious, in addressing Theresa's heart, to speak purely from 
 his own heart, and to leave his fate to her decision and de- 
 termination and, therefore, he did not hesitate to conceal 
 this important matter from Lis watchful overseers. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "WiLHELM had scarcely dispatched his letter, when Lo- 
 thario returned. Every one seemed glad that the important 
 business in which they were engaged, would soon be con- 
 cluded, and Wilhelm awaited with anxiety the disentangle- 
 ment of the complicated thread upon which his future 
 happiness depended. Lothario saluted them cordially : he 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 475 
 
 was perfectly recovered, and had resumed his usual cheerful- 
 ness. He had the appearance of a man, who knows the 
 duties which he has to discharge, and understands the way in 
 which they should be performed. 
 
 \Vilhelm was unable to return his friendship with equal cor- 
 diality. " This nuin," he repeated to himself, " is the friend, 
 the lover, the bridegroom of Theresa, into whose place 
 1 am endeavouring to insinuate myself. Do you think you 
 cau ever extinguish or efface the impression which has been 
 made?" If his letter had not already been dispatched, 
 perhaps he might not have dared to send it. Fortunately, 
 however, the die had been east. Perhaps Theresa had already 
 made her decision, and d Stance alone had flung her veil over 
 the happy consummation. Success or failure must soon be 
 made apparent. He tried to find repose amid all these re- 
 flections, for the emotions of his heart had rendered him 
 feverish and anxious. He could devote but little attention 
 to the important business, upon which depended, in some 
 ire, the fate of his entire fortune. But alas ! in mo- 
 s of passion how trivial does everything else appear in 
 which \\ e are engaged. 
 
 To Wilhelm's great comfort, Lothario acted with gene- 
 
 iii the matter, and Werner behaved with indifference. 
 
 Notwithstanding his strong anxiety for gain, the latter 
 
 manifested great delight at the fine estate, which he, or rather 
 
 his friend, was about to possess. But Lothario, on the other 
 
 hand, seemed engrossed with very different thoughts. " I 
 
 much pleasure in the possession of an estate, 
 
 as in the jiK-tice of the means by which it has been acquired." 
 
 " And have we not acquired ours justly ?" demanded 
 Werner. 
 
 " Not altogether," replied Lothario. 
 
 " Do we not purchase it with ready money ?" 
 
 " That is true," observed Lothario, " and perhaps you may 
 consider my ideas to be nothing but unmeaning scruples. 
 But I cannot consider a property to be fairly acquired, which 
 does not pay its contribution to the state." 
 
 ' AY hat !" said Warner, " and do you wish that our lands, 
 which have been purchased free from taxation, should be 
 subject to an impost:'" 
 
 " Yes !'' ansueivd Lothario, " to a certain degree. And it 
 is only this general equality that can render our possessions 
 
476 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 secure, "Why does the peasant, in these times of change, 
 when so many old ideas are becoming obsolete, consider that 
 the possessions of the nobleman are less secure than his 
 own ? Because they are exempt from burdens to which he 
 is subject." 
 
 " But how would these notions agree with the interest of 
 our capital ?" inquired Werner. 
 
 " Quite well," replied Lothario ; "if, in return for a just 
 and regular taxation, the state should exempt us from feudal 
 obligations, allowing us to act as we please with our lands, 
 and permitting us to divide them, if we think fit. We might 
 then dispose of them amongst our children, \vhom we could 
 establish in a free and active life, instead of leaving them an 
 inheritance of contracted and contracting privileges, for the 
 enjoyment of which, we must for ever invoke the spirits of 
 our ancestors. How much greater would be the happiness of 
 men and women, if they might look freely around them, and 
 elevate by their choice a worthy maiden or a deserving youth, 
 without any other prospect than that of happiness. The 
 state would, in that case, be better supplied with citizens, and 
 would seldom find a deficiency of either heads or hands." 
 
 " I assure you," said Werner, " that in the whole course of 
 my life, I have never troubled myself about the state. But 
 I have always paid my share of taxes, dues and imposts, in 
 compliance with custom." 
 
 " Well," answered Lothario, " I have some hopes yet of 
 making a good citizen of you. For, as he only deserves to 
 be called a good father, who at table helps his children first, 
 so none others are good citizens save those who, before every 
 other outlay, discharge the imposts laid upon them by the 
 state " 
 
 By such general considerations as these, their business 
 was racher expedited than retarded. When it was nearly 
 concluded, Lothario said to Wilhelm, " I must now send 
 you to a place, where you will be more useful than you can 
 be here. My sister begs, that you will visit her as soon as 
 possible. Poor Mignon is very ill, and it is thought that 
 your presence may, perhaps, be of service to her. My sister 
 sent this note after me, aud you may perceive what import- 
 ance she attaches to it." Lothario handed him the letter. 
 .Wilhelm,who had listened with the greatest embarrassment, 
 recognised in the note, which had been hastily written in 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 477 
 
 pencil, the hand of the Countess, and knew not what to 
 answer. 
 
 " Take Felix along with you," said Lothario, " the children 
 will amuse each other. You must set out to-morrow 
 morning at an early hour. The carriage of my sister, in 
 which my friends arrived, is still here. I will provide you 
 with horses for half the journey. After that, you can travel 
 by the post. Farewell. Remember me in the kindest 
 manner to them all. Tell my sister that I shall see her 
 before long, and that she must prepare for the entertainment 
 of some guests. The friend of our grand-uncle, the Marquis 
 Cipriani, is on his way to visit us. He had hoped to find 
 the old man still alive. They would have entertained each 
 other with the remembrance of their former intimacy, and 
 with their common love of art, The Marquis was younger 
 than my uncle, and was indebted to him for many of his 
 accomplishments. We must exert ourselves to supply the 
 void which he will find, and we shall attain that object best, 
 by amusing him with society." 
 
 Lothario now retired with the Abbe to his chamber, and 
 Wilhelm hastened to his own apartment. He knew no one 
 in whom he might confide, no one, who could assist him, to 
 avoid the step which he so much feared to take. The ser- 
 vant came, and begged that he would commence his packing, 
 that they might be ready to set out at break of day. Wil- 
 hrlm felt uncertain how to act ; but, at length, he exclaimed, 
 " I must leave this house at all events, and I may reflect 
 afterwards upon the course I ought to take. I can stop in 
 the middle of my journey, send a messenger back hither, 
 and write what I am afraid to speak ; and then I care 
 not what may happen." In spite of this resolution, he 
 spent a sleepless night, and was only comforted by casting 
 a look on Felix, who was sleeping so tranquilly. "Alas !" 
 he cried, " who knows what trials I may yet have to endure, 
 how much I am yet to suffer from my past errors, how often 
 my happy projects in future, are doomed to miscarry but 
 O, thou merciful and unmerciful fate ! preserve for me this 
 treasure which I still possess. Were it possible that this 
 best part of my existence should be destroyed, that this heart 
 should be torn violently from my own- then farewell to 
 rny reason and understanding, farewell all regard for care or 
 prudence, farewell every impulse to perseverance ! Fare- 
 
478 WILIIELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 well in fine to everything which distinguishes us from mere 
 animals ! And if we are not allowed voluntarily to end our own 
 dreary existence, may speedy madness banish all conscious- 
 ness before Death, which destroys it for ever, shall envelope 
 me in endless night!" 
 
 He took Felix in his arms, kissed him, pressed him to his 
 bosom, and shed over him a copious flood of tears. The child 
 awoke his bright eyes, his cheerful look, touched the father 
 to the inmost heart. " What a scene shall I have to wit- 
 ness," he exclaimed, " when I present thee to the unfortunate, 
 but beautiful Countess ; and when she shall press thee to a 
 heart which thy father has injured so deeply ! Have I not 
 reason to fear, that she will reject thee with a cry of anguish, 
 when a touch of thine shall renew her real or her fancied 
 pain !" 
 
 The coachman allowed him no further time for thought or 
 hesitation. He compelled "Wilhelm to take his place in the 
 carriage. He accordingly wrapped Felix up warmly, as the 
 morning was cold, but bright, and the child, for the first 
 time in its life, witnessed the rising of the sun. His as- 
 tonishment at the first glow of dawn, and at the increasing 
 splendor of the light, his joy and expressions of surprise, re- 
 joiced his father, and gave him a glimpse into the child's 
 heart, before which the sun ascended and shone, as over a 
 pure and silent sea. 
 
 When they reached a small village, the coachman unhar- 
 nessed his horses, and rode back again. Wilhelm took 
 possession of an apartment, and began seriously to consider, 
 whether he should pause or proceed upon his journey. In 
 this state of indecision, he took out the little note, which, 
 as yet, he had not dared to read. It contained the following 
 words. " Send your young friend as quickly as possible. 
 Mignon, during the last few days, has become worse. And 
 though the occasion is sad, I shall be glad to make his ac- 
 quaintance." 
 
 Wilhelm, at the first glance, had not observed these con- 
 cluding words. He was now terrified, and determined not to 
 proceed. " How !" he exclaimed, " is it possible that Lothario, 
 who knows all that has occurred between us, has notiiitbrmed 
 her who I am ? She is not calmly awaiting an acquaintance, 
 whom she would rather not see, but expects an utter 
 
APPBENTICESI1IP. 479 
 
 stranger! I enter -I see her start back with a shudder ! 
 I see her blush ! No, it is impossible that I can encounter 
 such a scene !" At this moment the horses were brought out, 
 and harnessed to the carriage. Wilhelm, however, resolved 
 to unpack his luggage, and remain. His agitation was 
 extreme when the servant came to tell him that everything 
 was ready. He sought to find some excuse for farther delav, 
 whilst his eyes were fixed carelessly upon the note which he 
 held in his hand. "Can it be possible?" he suddenly ex- 
 claimed. " What do I see ? This is not the writing of the 
 Countess, but of the Amazon !" 
 
 The maid appeared and asked him to descend, taking 
 Felix with her. " Is it possible ? " he cried, " can it be true ? 
 What shall I do ? Remain here and collect my thoughts, 
 or hasten forward and rush into an explanation? I am on 
 < >ad to her, and can I pause ? I may see her this evening, 
 and shall I willingly remain in prison? Yes! this is her 
 handwriting she calls nu the carriage is ready which is to 
 take me to her, and now the enigma is solved. Lothario lias 
 two sisters. He knows of my acquaintance with the one, 
 but is ignorant how much 1 owe the other. Even she 
 cannot know that the wounded wayfarer, who is indebted 
 to her for his health, perhaps for his life, has been received 
 with such undeserved kindness in her brother's house." 
 
 Felix who was amusing himself in the carriage, now cried 
 to him, "Father, come O, come! look at those beautiful 
 clouds, those lovely colours!" "Yes! 1 am coming," 
 answered Wilhelm, as he hastened down stairs, "all the 
 glories of Heaven, with which you, my sweet child, are so 
 much delighted, are as nothing compared with the happinr. 
 which I expect ! " 
 
 When he had taken his seat in the carriage, he revolved in 
 his mind all the circumstances that had occurred. This then 
 can be no other than Natalia, Theresa's friend ! What a 
 discovery ! what hopes and what anticipations ! How strange 
 that the fear of hearing one sister spoken of, should have 
 wholly concealed from me the existence of the other I With 
 what joy did he not now look on Felix, he hoped that he 
 would meet with the kindest reception ! 
 
 Night was coming on: the sun had set, the road was rou<j;h, 
 the postillion drove slowly. Felix had fallen asleep, and 
 
480 TVILHELM METSTER'S 
 
 cares and doubts agitated the bosom of our friend. " What 
 delusion," he thought, " what error has now seized me ? An 
 uncertain resemblance in the handwriting has hastily con- 
 vinced me, and occasioned me to indulge the strangest 
 fancies ! " He examined the note again by the light of the 
 setting sun, he thought that he beheld the handwriting 
 of the Countess. His eyes refused to recognize in the 
 details what his heart had acknowledged in the whole. 
 *' These horses then are carrying you to a scene of terror ! 
 "Who knows whether in a few hours they may not bring you 
 back again ? And if you should meet her alone ! But 
 perhaps her husband or the Baron may be present ! How 
 changed may I not find her ? Shall I have courage to 
 address her? " 
 
 But a faint hope, that she might be his Amazon, would 
 gleam occasionally through his troubled thoughts. It was 
 now night : the carriage rolled into a court yard and drew 
 up at the doorway : a servant bearing a torch descended the 
 broad wide steps, and advanced to receive him. " You have 
 been long expected ! " he said, as he opened the door. 
 Wilhelm descended, and took the sleeping Felix in his arms, 
 and the first servant called to a second, who was standing 
 before the door with a light, " Conduct the gentleman to the 
 Baroness. " Like lightning, the thought instantly occurred 
 to Wilhelm. " What happiness be it by accident or by de- 
 sign, the Baroness is here ! 1 shall see her first ! perhaps 
 the Countess will have retired to rest ! Assist me, ye good 
 spirits, that I may have strength to bear this moment of 
 deep perplexity ?" 
 
 He entered the house, and found himself in the most 
 solemn, and according to his own feelings, in the holiest 
 place which he had ever visited. A dazzling lustre, which 
 hung from the ceiling, shed its light over a broad flight of 
 stairs of gentle acclivity which stood before him, and parted 
 at the turning into two divisions. Marble statues and busts 
 stood around upon pedestals, or were arranged in niches 
 with some of which he seemed familiar. The impressions 
 of youth are never wholly extinguished, even in their smallest 
 details. He recognized a Muse, which had formerly belonged 
 to his grandfather, not indeed by its form or by its value, 
 but by an arm which had been restored, and by a piece of 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 48 1 
 
 the robe which had been replaced. He felt as if he were 
 under the influence of enchantment. But the weight of 
 liulr IVlix fatigued his arms, he paused upon the stairs and 
 knelt down, as if he would arrange him more conveniently. 
 But, in fact, he needed a moment's rest, and he found it dif- 
 ficult to rise again. The servant offered to carry the child, 
 but Wilhelm would not consent. Upon arriving at the 
 antechamber, to his great astonishment, he recognized the 
 picture of the sick King's son, which hung upon the wall. 
 But he had scarcely time to notice it, as the servant without 
 pausing, passed through two rooms into a cabinet. Here 
 behind a shaded lamp, which softened the light that it flung 
 around, sat a young lady engaged in reading. " O, that it 
 were she ! " thought Wilhelm in that decisive moment. He 
 placed little Felix down, who seemed as if he. were about to 
 awake, and he thought of approaching the lady, but the 
 child sunk down oppressed with sleep, whereupon the lady 
 rose, and advanced to meet him. She was his Amazon ! He 
 could not restrain himself. He fell upon his knee and 
 d her hand with indescribable rapture. The child lay 
 upon the carpet, in soft repose. 
 
 Felix was carried to the sofa. Natalia seated herself 
 beside him, and invited Wilhelm to take the chair which was 
 standing near. She offered him some refreshment, which he 
 declined, as he was employed in assuring himself that she 
 was the same person, and in closely scrutinising her features. 
 She spoke to him in general terms of Mignon's sickness, 
 stating that the child was pining away under the influence 
 of some deep mental affliction, that under extreme excite- 
 ment, which it endeavoured to conceal, its little heart suffered 
 painful and violent attacks, and that upon any sudden 
 agitation, it would suddenly cease to beat and leave no 
 no sign of life in the bosom of the innocent sufferer. That 
 when the painful spasms had passed away, the force of nature 
 once more expressed itself by strong pulsations, whose 
 violence was now as painful to the child, as their apparent 
 ition had formerly proved. 
 
 Wilhelm remembered having witnessed one of these at-r 
 tacks, and Natalia referred him for further information to 
 the physician, who, she said, would explain to him the reason 
 why they had desired the presence of the child's friend and 
 
 2 I 
 
482 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 benefactor. " You will find her wonderfully altered," con- 
 tinued Natalia, " she has even taken a fancy to wearing 
 female apparel, to which she formerly entertained so strong 
 an aversion." 
 
 " How have you succeeded in this ? " inquired Wilhelm. 
 
 " However desirable it may long have been," she replied, 
 " we have only succeeded by the merest accident. But you 
 must hear how it occurred. You are doubtless aware that 
 I always have a number of young maidens about me, whose 
 growing dispositions for every thing that is good and right 
 I endeavour to cultivate. From my lips they never hear 
 anything but what I myself believe to be true, although I 
 cannot prevent them from hearing many things from other 
 persons, which are tinged with error, and with worldly pre- 
 judice. In answering their inquiries upon such subjects, I 
 endeavour, as far as possible, to correct their strange 
 and incorrect ideas with some admitted truth, and thus to 
 render them useful, or at least harmless. Some time 
 ago my girls had heard from the peasant children certain 
 wonderful tales of angels, of the Knecht Rupert and of other 
 visionary forms that had appeared, at certain times, to 
 reward good children, and to punish those who were dis- 
 obedient. They had an idea that they were human beings in 
 disguise. I encouraged this notion, and without convincing 
 them by proofs, I determined upon the first favourable 
 opportunity to amuse them with a spectacle of the kind. 
 The birth- day of two twin sisters, whose conduct had always 
 been irreproachable, was drawing near, and I promised them 
 that an angel should upon that occasion distribute the pre- 
 sents which they had so well deserved, They were impatient 
 for the expected day. I had engaged Mignon to perform 
 the part, and when the time arrived, she was appropriately 
 dressed in a light flowing drapery of white. Nothing was 
 deficient, even the golden girdle round her waist, and a 
 similar diadem upon her head. At first I felt disposed to 
 omit the wings, but the ladies who dressed her, insisted on 
 providing a pair of large golden pinions, upon which they 
 seemed determined to display their taste. Thus adorned, 
 carrying a lily in one hand, and a basket in the other, this 
 strange apparition suddenly became visible amongst the 
 children, and excited in their minds, no less than in my own, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 483 
 
 feelings of the utmost astonishment. " Behold the &ngel !" 
 I exclaimed. The children started back at first, but at 
 length they cried, " It is Mignon ! " and yet they feared to 
 approach the wonderful figure. 
 
 " Here are your presents ! " she said, presenting the 
 basket to them. They gathered round her, gazed, felt, and 
 at length inquired 
 
 "Art thou an angel?" 
 
 " I would I were," replied Mignon. 
 
 " "Why dost thou bear a lily ? " 
 
 " If my heart were as pure and open then I should be 
 
 " What wings are those ? Let us see them." 
 " They represent others, which are not yet unfolded." 
 Thus did she reply significantly to each light and innocent 
 inquiry. When the'curiosity of the little party had been 
 satisfied, and the impression of the angel's visit had abated, 
 they proceeded to undress Mignon. But she resisted, and 
 taking her cithern, she seated herself upon this high writing 
 table, and commenced the following ballad, which she sang 
 with incredible sweetness. 
 
 Thus let me seem till thus I be, 
 These snow-white garments ne'er deny, 
 From this bright world I soon shall flee 
 To an enduring home on high. 
 
 A little while I there shall rest, 
 With vision pure and open mind, 
 In robes of white no longer drest 
 My wreath and garland left behind. 
 
 In heavenly realms, the angel choir 
 Seek not to know of youth or maid, 
 Freed from this lowly earth's attire, 
 Their limbs in robes of light array'd. 
 
 My lot hath been devoid of care, 
 Yet is my bosom rent with pain, 
 Untimely grief hath been my share, 
 Then, ! restore my youth again. 
 
 'I determined," continued Natalia, "to permit her to 
 
484 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 retain the dress, and to procure some others for her of the 
 same kind. She 1 wears them now, and they seem to give her 
 quite a different expression." 
 
 As it was growing late, Natalia allowed Wilhelm to de- 
 part, but it was not without some apprehension that he 
 separated from her. " Is she married or not ? " he asked 
 himself. He had been afraid, at every sound, that some 
 door would open and her husband appear. The servant who 
 conducted him to his apartment, retired before he could 
 summon courage to make inquiries on this subject. His 
 agitation kept him awake for a considerable time, and he 
 employed himself in comparing the figure of his Amazon 
 with the appearance of his new acquaintance. But he could 
 not make them thoroughly agree. The former he had at 
 once fashioned but the latter seemed as if it would fashion 
 him. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 ON the following morning when all was silent and quiet, 
 he proceeded to examine the house. It was the cleanest, 
 the noblest and most beautiful building he had ever seen. 
 " True art," he exclaimed, " resembles good company, it com- 
 pels us, in the most delightful manner, to admit the extent 
 to which our inward faculties have been cultivated. The 
 impression, which the statues and busts of his grandfather 
 produced upon his mind, was most agreeable, it was with 
 real delight that he surveyed the picture of the sick King's 
 son, he still found it charming and affecting. The servant 
 admitted him into various other apartments, amongst which 
 were a library, a museum and a cabinet of natural curiosities. 
 With many of the objects he was wholly unacquainted. 
 Felix, in the mean time, had awoke, and was searching for 
 him. He felt grieved at the thought of how, and when, he 
 might receive Theresa's letter, he dreaded the prospect of 
 meeting Mignon, or even of seeing Natalia. How different 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 48-3 
 
 was his present state of mind from what it had been, when 
 he had dispatched his letter to Theresa, and had devoted 
 himself with so much gladness to that noble being. 
 
 Natalia invited him to breakfast. He was ushered into 
 an apartment, where several neatly attired maidens, all as it 
 appeared under ten years of age, were engaged in laying out 
 a little table, whilst another similar person was carrying in 
 various descriptions of beverage. 
 
 AVilhelm attentively examined a picture which was hang- 
 ing over the sofa. He could not help recognizing it as the 
 portrait of Natalia, though he was dissatisfied with it as a 
 work of art. But upon the appearance of Natalia herself, 
 the resemblance wholly vanished. lie was glad however to 
 perceive a religious cross upon its breast, and Natalia herself 
 wore a similar ornament. 
 
 " I have examined that picture," he observed to her, " and 
 1 have felt surprised how a painter could be so true and yet 
 so false at the same time. The portrait bears a general re- 
 lance to you, but it expresses neither your features nor 
 your character. " 
 
 "lam only astonished," replied Natalia, "that it bears 
 so great a resemblance to me. For it is not my portrait, 
 but that of an aunt, whom I resembled when 1 \\as a child. 
 It was painted when she was about my present age, and at 
 sight every one thinks that it was intended lor me. I 
 wish you had known that excellent lady. I feel so deeply 
 indebted to her. A very delicate state of health, too much 
 solitary contemplation, and her moral and religious anxiety, 
 prevented her from exhibiting to the world those qualities 
 which she might otherwise have displayed. She was a light 
 which shone only upon a few friends, but especially 
 toe." 
 
 * Is it possible ?" said AVilhelm, after brief reflection, 
 during which he perceived that many things aecurati 1\ 
 responded; "is it possible that that fair and noble Saint, 
 whose gentle confessions have been communicated to mr. 
 iiavo been your aunt ?" 
 
 " Have you perused that manuscript ?'* inquired Natalia. 
 
 " Yes !" replied Wilhelm, " vith the deepest sympathy, 
 and not without an effect upon my life. What I most ad- 
 mired in those confessions was the purity of being, not only 
 
486 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 of herself, but of everything that surrounded her, the inde- 
 pendence of her nature, and the impossibility that she 
 could receive any impression which was not in complete 
 harmony with her noble, lovely mind." 
 
 " You are more just towards this inimitable being than 
 many others who have read her manuscript. Every refined 
 person knows how many natural defects he has had to 
 struggle against, both in himself and others, what exertions 
 his own education has cost him, and how disposed he has 
 been in general to think of himself alone, and wholly to 
 forget the claims of others. How frequently does a good 
 man upbraid himself for having proved deficient in kindness, 
 and when a fair nature cultivates itself too tenderly, too 
 conscientiously, or if I may use the expression, over-culti- 
 vates itself, it can find no patience, no toleration in the 
 world. Such beings are to us externally, what the Ideal is 
 to us internally examples not so much to imitate, as to 
 call forth the exertion of our powers. We smile at the 
 order and cleanliness of the Dutch, but how could our friend 
 Theresa have become what she is, if the example of their 
 household arrangements had not been ever present to her 
 mind." 
 
 " Then I find in Theresa's friend," cried Wilhelm, the 
 same Natalia, to whom her kind relation was so much at- 
 tached, the same Natalia who has been from her earliest 
 youth so sympathizing, so affectionate and so tender-hearted. 
 A nature like hers could only descend from such a race ! 
 What a prospect opens before me, when in the same moment 
 I take a view of your ancestors, and of the whole circle to 
 which you belong !" 
 
 " Yes !" replied Natalia, " and you could not procure a 
 more correct idea of us anywhere than what the story of 
 my aunt will furnish. It is true that her attachment for 
 me has always caused her to praise me too highly. But in 
 expressing our opinion of a child, we do not speak so much 
 of the object before us, as give expression to our hopes." 
 
 Wilhelm had, in the mean time, hastily recollected that 
 he had become acquainted with the circumstances of Lo- 
 thario's youth and early education. The beautiful Countess 
 too appeared to him as a child with the pearls of her aunt 
 about her neck, and he had been once in close proximity 
 
APPRENTICES!! I P. 487 
 
 to those pearls, when her sweet and lovely lips had bent 
 down to meet his own he sought to banish these remem- 
 brances by having recourse to other thoughts. He then 
 turned to the friend with whom that manuscript had made 
 him acquainted. "And do I find myself at this moment/' 
 he exd.iimed, "in the house of your worthy uncle? -But 
 it is not so much a house as a temple, of which you are the 
 Priestess nay, the very Genius. Never shall I forget the 
 impression which yesterday evening produced upon my 
 mind, when I entered and saw all those well-remembered 
 works of art again before me. I thought of the marble 
 statues in Mignon's song, but they did not mourn over me, 
 they beheld me with a look of deep earnestness, and con- 
 nected the days of my earliest youth with that identical 
 Among so many other noble works, I see here 
 ..orient family treasure, that delight of my grandfather, 
 ami 1 find myself here also, my unworthy self, whom nature 
 had made the dearest favourite of that good old man, but 
 with what associations and in what society!" 
 : alia' s young pupils had in the meanwhile retired from 
 4>artment to pursue their several employments. Wil- 
 helm, who had been left alone with Natalia, was invited to 
 explain his last observations more clearly. His statement 
 that the most valuable portion of her works of art had QflMX 
 belonged to his grandfather imparted a cheerful intimacy to 
 their conversation. He had not 'only become acquainted with 
 her family through the manuscript, but he found himself at 
 the present moment in the midst of his own inheritance. 
 He now expressed a wish to see Mignon. Natalia begged 
 him to wait until the physician should return, as he had 
 been summoned to attend a patient in the neighbourhood. 
 We may readily conjecture that he was the same active little 
 man with whom we are already acquainted, and who had 
 
 adverted to in the Confessions of a lair Saint. 
 "As I now find myself," said Wilhelm, "in the midst of 
 this family circle, I presume the Abbe who is mentioned in 
 manuscript is the same mysterious inexplicable puraon- 
 \vhom after so many strange adventures I once more 
 in your brother's house. Perhaps you can give me 
 further information about him." 
 Natalia replied that much might be said of the Abbe. 
 
488 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 " I know him best," she continued, " from the influence 
 which he has exerted upon our education. He was convinced, 
 at least for a time, that all education should be adapted to 
 the disposition. I cannot say whether he has altered his 
 opinions. He was accustomed to maintain, that the prin- 
 cipal duty of man consisted of activity, and that we could 
 achieve nothing, unless a peculiar talent and instinct im- 
 pelled us to the performance of our tasks. * It is admitted, 7 
 he would say, ' that men must be born poets, and the same 
 necessity is allowed with respect to all who excel in works 
 of art, as the perfections of nature .cannot be success- 
 fully assumed. But upon close examination we shall 
 find that even our slightest talents must come to us from 
 nature, as man possesses no vague capabilities. Nothing 
 renders our lives unsuccessful but the ambiguous and un- 
 certain system of our education, which awakens wishes 
 instead of directing impulses, and in place of forwarding 
 real talent, leads our exertions to objects with which our 
 minds are generally in discord. A child, a youth who goes 
 astray in a path which he has chosen for himself, is more 
 likely to succeed, than many who never deviate from a course 
 which has been chosen for them by others. For if the 
 former, either by their own guidance, or through the instru- 
 mentality of strangers, find the path which is congenial 
 to their nature, they will pursue it consistently, whilst 
 the latter are in incessant danger of throwing off a foreign 
 yoke, and abandoning themselves to their own freedom.' ' : 
 
 " It is somewhat singular," said Wilhelm, " that I should 
 have had some dealings with this extraordinary man, and 
 that he should, in his own way, have guided me for a time, 
 or at least confirmed me in my errors. I must wait with 
 patience, to see how he will explain his conduct, in having in 
 conjunction with others, made me an object of perfect ridi- 
 cule." 
 
 " I have no reason," said Natalia, " to complain of his 
 peculiar fancies, for they have succeeded better with me, 
 than with the other members of our family. Though I do 
 not see how my brother Lothario could have been more ad- 
 vantageously educated. Perhaps my sister, the Countess, 
 ought to have been managed differently, as it would have 
 been better to have infused more strength and earnestness 
 
489 
 
 into her character. But as for our brother Friedrich, I 
 daiv not think of what may he his tale he will doubtless 
 have become the victim of the delusive educational system." 
 
 ' Have you then another brother?" inquired Wilhelm. 
 
 " Truly "I have," replied Natalia; " a merry, li^ht-hearted 
 youth, who has never been restrained in his wish to wander 
 through the world, and I know not what may be the con- 
 sequence of his wildness and dissipation. I have not seen 
 him for a Ion*? time. But it comforts me to know that the 
 . and all my brother's friends, frequently receive news 
 of him and his occupations." 
 
 AVilhelm wished to question Natalia further about her 
 
 brother and his companions, with a view of ascertaining her 
 
 own sentiments, when the physician arrived, and after an 
 
 interchange of compliments, began to discourse of Mignon's 
 
 i ion. 
 
 Natalia, taking Felix by the hand, said she would conduct 
 him t-> Mignon, and prepare her for a visit from her friend. 
 
 When the physician found himself alone with Wilhelm, 
 lie thus began. ' I have some strange things to tell you, 
 ed you can have but little idea. Natalia has 
 is, in order that we may be able more unreservedly to 
 speak of various matters, which, although they have been 
 communicated by herself, cannot in her presence be so freely 
 discussed. The whole nature of the child seems exhausted 
 by a feeling of the most intense longing. Her only earthly 
 wishes are once more to see her native land and to 
 possess you. Both these feelings appear to 'lie at an im- 
 measurable distance before her, and to be almost unattain- 
 able. Her home is probably in the neighbourhood of Milan, 
 from whence, in very early youth, she was decoyed away by a 
 company of rope dancers. She can communicate no further 
 information about herself, partly because she was then too 
 young to remember the names either of persons or places, 
 and especially because she has taken an oath never to 
 
 ii anv living mortal of her parentage or abode. 
 
 the persons by whom she was found wandering, and to 
 
 whom she accurately described her dwelling, and with piere- 
 
 ies implored them to conduct her home, carried her oil' 
 
 tOfe rapidly on that account, and at niijht, in their 
 
 quarters, they spoke of their valuable pri/e, and declared it 
 
490 WILHELH MEISTEE'S 
 
 to be impossible that she could ever find her way back. The 
 little innocent then fell into a state of the most dreadful 
 despair, in which the Holy Virgin appeared to her and 
 assured her that she would protect her. She thereupon swore 
 a solemn oath to herself, that for the future she would place 
 confidence in no one, that she would impart her history to 
 no human being, and that she would live and die in the hope 
 of obtaining direct assistance from hea,ven. And even this 
 information she did not expressly communicate to Natalia, 
 but the latter has rather gathered it from detached expres- 
 sions, songs, and childish observations, which have indistinctly 
 betrayed what she would willingly have concealed." 
 
 Wilhelm was now able to understand many of the songs 
 and mysterious expressions of the affectionate child. And 
 he implored the physician not to withhold from him any of 
 the strange poetry or confessions of so singular a being. 
 
 " Well," said the physician, "^prepare for an unexpected 
 communication, a story with which you, without being con- 
 scious of it, are intimately connected, and which I fear has 
 been decisive for the life or death of this good creature." 
 
 " Let me hear it," said Wilhelm ; " I am beyond measure 
 impatient." 
 
 "Do you remember," inquired the physician, "a certain 
 secret nocturnal visit from a stranger after your performance 
 of Hamlet ?" 
 
 " I remember it well/' answered Wilhelm, with a blush, 
 " but I did not expect to be reminded of it at the present 
 moment." 
 
 " Do you know who it was ?" 
 
 " No ! but you alarm me. You cannot mean Mignon. 
 Who was it ? Tell me." 
 
 " I do not know myself." 
 
 " Then it was not Mignon ?" 
 
 " No certainly not. But Mignon had intended, at the 
 time to visit you, and saw with horror from the spot where 
 she lay concealed, a rival occupy her place." 
 
 " A rival !" exclaimed Wilhelm. " Explain yourself; you 
 amaze me." 
 
 " Be satisfied that with my assistance you can learn the 
 result so easily. Natalia and I, who have felt but a slight 
 interest upon this subject, have been sufficiently distressed 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 491 
 
 at discovering the perplexed condition of this pood creature, 
 whom we ha\ anxious to assist. Her attention 
 
 l;a<l been attracted by some thoughtless expressions of 
 Philina and some of her companions, as well as by a song of 
 the former, in which she celebrated the praises of the ni^ht, 
 and she felt desirous of passing the night in company 
 with a person whom she loved, without any other desire 
 than to enjoy a happy and secure repose. A feeling of 
 attachment to you reigned so powerfully within her IT 
 and within your arms she had found relief from so many 
 sorrows, that she wished to realize this happjness in all its 
 fulness. At first she had thought of asking this favour of 
 yon in a friendly manner, but a secret reluctance had pre- 
 
 d her. At length however, that merry evening, and the 
 excitement of a more than usual quantity of wine, had 
 inspired her with courage to make the bold attempt, and to 
 approach your bed. She had therefore gone before you to 
 
 al herself in your apartment, but when she was as- 
 
 !iu r the stairs, she heard a noise, and hid herself, when 
 she p -revived a female figure clad in white, steal into your 
 chamhcr. You arrived yourself a short time after, and. she 
 heard you bolt the door. 
 
 11 then suffered indescribable agony. All the 
 violent sensations of passionate jealousy, mingled with the 
 mysterious longings of obscure desire, exerted a strong in- 
 fluence upon her half developed nature. Her heart, which 
 had hitlx n violently with anxious expectation, 
 
 became almost still, and oppressed her bosom with its leaden 
 weight. She breathed with difficulty, and knew not where 
 to seek relief, till hearing the sound of the old man's harp, 
 she hastened to his garret, and amid the most frightful con- 
 vulsions, she spent the night at his feet " 
 
 The physician paused for a moment, but as "Wilhelm con- 
 
 (1 silent, he proceeded : " Natalia has assured me that 
 no incident of her whole life had so much alarmed and 
 affected her, as the state of Mignon whilst she was n lat in^ 
 occurrence, and our noble friend upbraided herself fur 
 having elicited this confession from her, and thus renewed 
 the sorrows of the gentle maiden." 
 
 "' The kind rival mv,' continued Natalia, 'had scarcely 
 reached this point of her narrative, or rather of her rep lie 
 
492 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 to my direct questions, than she suddenly fell down at my 
 feet, and pressing her hand to her bosom, complained of the 
 returning pains of that dreadful night. She writhed upon 
 the ground, and I was obliged to summon all my resolution 
 to apply those remedies for the recovery of her mind and 
 body, with which I was acquainted." 
 
 " You reduce me to a painful condition," cried Wilhelm, 
 " by making me feel so sensible of my repeated injustice to 
 Mignon, at the very moment when I am proposing to visit 
 her. If I am to see her again, why do you deprive me of 
 the courage to meet her without apprehension ? But shall 
 I confess it to you ? that as her mind seems so affected, I 
 cannot think that my presence will prove beneficial to her. 
 If it is your opinion, as a physician, that the illness arising 
 from her extreme longing, has so far injured her constitu- 
 tion as to threaten death, why should I renew her sorrows 
 by my presence, and perhaps hasten the termination of her 
 existence?" 
 
 "My friend," continued the physician, "where we can- 
 not cure, we are bound at least to alleviate, and I could 
 furnish the most convincing proofs, that the presence of a 
 beloved object can deprive the imagination of its evil powers, 
 and can convert a consuming longing into the repose of 
 peaceful contemplation. We should do everything with 
 moderation and judgment. It is true that such a presence 
 can sometimes revive an almost extinguished passion. But 
 go, and see the dear child ; be kind to her, and let us await 
 the result with patience." 
 
 Natalia returned at that moment, and requested Wilhelm 
 to accompany her to Mignon, saying, tl She appears to be 
 very happy with Felix, and I hope she will receive her friend 
 kindly." Wilhelm followed her with some reluctance. He 
 was deeply affected at the accounts which he had heard, and 
 feared that he might have to witness a passionate scene. 
 But his interview was of the very opposite description. 
 
 Mignon was dressed in long white female attire, and with 
 her rich brown hair, partly knotted and partly streaming in 
 curls over her shoulders, she was sitting with Felix in her 
 lap, and she pressed him tenderly to her heart ; and whilst 
 she resembled a departed spirit, the boy was life itself. It 
 seemed as if heaven and earth were embracing. With a 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 403 
 
 smile she extended her hand to Wilhelm. "I thank you 
 for restoring Felix to me. I know not how they had enticed 
 him away, and since then I have never enjoyed my existence. 
 . And whenever my heart feels any want upon earth, Felix 
 shall fill the void." 
 
 The tranquillity with which Mignon had received her 
 friend, gave great satisfaction to the whole party. The 
 physician begged that Wilhelm would visit her frequently, 
 mid that her peace, both of mind and of body, might be un- 
 interruptedly attended to. He withdrew almost imme- 
 diately, but promised >to return in a short time. 
 
 Wilhelm had an opportunity now of observing Natalia 
 within the limits of her own circle. He could enjoy no 
 greater happiness than to live in her society. Her presence 
 produced the most beneficial effect upon the girls, and the 
 yuuiiLc ladirs of* various ages, who either resided with her in 
 the house, or came to visit her from the neighbourhood 
 
 " The course of your existence," observed Wilhelm, "has 
 doubtless IK en smooth and undisturbed, and your aunt's 
 iption of your childhood seems to agree with your pre- 
 sent condition. We may easily see that your path has 
 never been entangled. You have never felt the necessity 
 of retracing your steps." 
 
 " I am indebted for this," replied Natalia, " to my uncle, 
 and the Abbe, who have so well understood my peculiarities. 
 1 do not remember during my whole life having experienced 
 a stronger wish than to discover the necessities of others 
 that I might relieve them. The child who was unable to 
 walk, the bed-ridden old man, the anxiety of a rich family for 
 offspring, the inability of the poor to support their children, 
 the secret anxiety of many for employment, the impulse 
 to cultivate some particular talent, the ability to follow a 
 hundred little necessary pursuits, to discover these, seemed 
 to be my natural mission. I could perceive them in places 
 to which my attention had never been directed, and I 
 icd to have been born for the purpose of making such 
 discoveries. The charms of inanimate nature, to which so 
 many others are keenly sensitive, produced no impression 
 upon me, and the charms of art I valued even less. My 
 toosl a Liveable occupation was to search out want and <lis- 
 . and to discover and apply a remedy for their alleviation. 
 
494 TVILHELM MEISTEH'S 
 
 " When I beheld a poor creature in rags, I immediately 
 remembered the superfluous clothes which filled the ward- 
 robes of my friends ; when I saw children pining away for 
 want of care or food, I thought of the many ladies w r hom I 
 knew to be oppressed with tedium amidst their countless 
 luxuries and riches, and when I saw throngs of persons con- 
 fined in narrow habitations, I thought that they ought to be 
 provided for, in the spacious palaces and unoccupied rooms 
 of large mansions. This mode of beholding things was quite 
 natural to me, so that I made constant errors in my child- 
 hood, and perplexed my friends with my unreasonable pro- 
 posals. It was another peculiarity of mine that I could with 
 difficulty consider money as the proper means of relieving any 
 of these evils. All my favours were rendered in kind, and I 
 am perfectly aware that in consequence of this, many a laugh 
 was indulged at my expense. The Abbe alone appeared to 
 understand me, he yielded to my wishes upon every occasion, 
 he made me acquainted with my wants and desires, and 
 taught me how to gratify them with propriety." 
 
 " And have you then," asked Wilhelm, " in the education 
 of your little female world, adopted the principles of those 
 extraordinary men ? Do you suffer the dispositions of the 
 children to form themselves ? Do you permit them to search 
 and wander and commit mistakes, allowing them to reach the 
 goal at last, or leave them to perish in their errors ?" 
 
 " No," answered Natalia, "such a mode of education 
 would be quite contrary to my principles. He who affords 
 no assistance at the proper time, in my opinion, never helps 
 at all ; and he who withholds his advice at the needful 
 juncture, never counsels. I also think it necessary to pro- 
 mulgate certain laws, and impress them upon the minds of 
 children, that they may the better comprehend the object 
 of their existence. Yes, I would almost say that it is better 
 to go astray by rule, than to err in obedience to the 
 caprices of our disposition, and according to my view of 
 mankind, there always seems to me to be a want in our 
 nature, which a distinctly enunciated law alone can supply." 
 
 " Your system, then," observed Wilhelm, " differs alto- 
 gether from the plan which is followed by our friends." 
 
 "Yes," answered Natalia, "and they afford a noble ex- 
 ample of toleration, in their refusal to interfere with my 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 495 
 
 principles. They allow me to pursue my own course, because 
 it is my own, and they assist me to accomplish all my wishes." 
 
 \\'e must postpone a circumstantial detail of Natalia's 
 111 to a more favourable opportunity. 
 
 Mignon had frequently begged to be admitted into their 
 society, and they yielded to her request the more readily, 
 as she seemed to be again growing reconciled to Wilhelin, 
 Her heart was opening to him once more, and she was daily 
 becoming more happy and cheerful. During their walks, as 
 she was easily fatigued, she loved to lean upon his arm. 
 " Now," he would say, "she leaps and climbs no more, and 
 yet she feels the wish to ascend to the mountain top, to skip 
 from house to house, and to sport from tree to tree. How 
 enviable are the birds, especially when in the enjoyment of 
 sweet and social intercourse they build their nests." 
 
 Mignon soon acquired the habit of inviting Wilhelm daily 
 into the garden. And when he was engaged or absent, Felix 
 supplied his place, and it' she seemed at times to lose all 
 earthly consciousness, yet at other moments, she was so 
 firmly attached to both father and son, that she seemed to 
 dread a separation from them more than any other calamity. 
 
 Natalia appeared thoughtful. " It was our object," she 
 said, " to open her kind and affectionate heart by means of 
 your presence. I do not know whether we have acted 
 wisely. 1 ' She paused, and seemed to expect that Wilhelm 
 would make some answer. He felt apprehensive that, under 
 present circumstances, his marriage with Theresa would be 
 extremely afflicting to Mignon, but he did not venture in his 
 uncertainty to give expression to this thought, and he had 
 no suspicion that Natalia was already aware of his intention. 
 
 And he found it equally impossible to converse with free- 
 dom, when his noble friend spoke about her sister, praised 
 her good qualities, and deplored her present condition. 1 1 e 
 was no less perplexed when Natalia informed him that the 
 Countess was shortly expected to arrive. "Her husband," 
 she said, " has no other intention than to replace the departed 
 Count, who was Principal of the Herrnhuther community, 
 and by activity and vigilance to extend and maintain that 
 coble institution. He is coming with the Countess to bid 
 us farewell; he intends, then, to visit the various localities 
 where the community have settled. All his wishes are coin- 
 
496 \VILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 plied with, and I almost think that he will take my poor 
 sister with him to America, in order more closely to imitate 
 his predecessor. And as he seems convinced at present that 
 he wants but little to become a saint, perhaps the thought 
 has sometimes floated through his soul, that he would even 
 cheerfully embrace the glories of a martyr." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THERESA had frequently been the subject of conversation 
 among our friends, and many were the indirect allusions 
 that had been made to her, and Wilhelm had been often 
 tempted to confess that he had already offered her his heart 
 and hand. But a certain feeling, for which he could not 
 account, had hitherto restrained him, until at length Natalia, 
 with that heavenly, modest, cheerful smile, which so became 
 her, addressed him thus : " I am compelled, then, to break 
 this silence, and to force myself into your confidence. Why, 
 my friend, do you make a secret of 'a circumstance which is 
 of so much importance to you, and so deeply interests 
 myself? You have offered your hand to my friend. It is 
 not without invitation that I interfere in the matter here 
 are my credentials here is a letter which she has written 
 to you, and has transmitted through my hand." 
 
 " A letter from Theresa !" he exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, Wilhelm ! and your fate is now decided. Let me 
 congratulate you, no less than my dear friend." Wilhrlm 
 was silent and gazed intently upon vacancy. Natalia looked 
 at him ; she saw that he was pale. " Your joy is strong," 
 she said, " it takes the form of terror, and deprives you of 
 the power of utterance. My sympathy is not the less cor- 
 dial, because it compels me to give utterance to my thoughts. 
 I hope you will prove grateful to me, for I must inform you 
 that my influence with Theresa has not been small. She 
 sought my advice, and as you were fortunately here, I was 
 enabled to overcome the few doubts which my friend still 
 entertained. Our notes were rapidly interchanged and 
 here is her decision here is her determination. And now 
 you shall peruse all her letters. You shall look with a clear 
 eye into the fair heart of your bride." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 497 
 
 Wilhelm opened tlie letter which had been handed to him 
 unsi-alrd. It contained the following affectionate words. 
 
 " I am yours as I am, and as you know me. 1 call you 
 mine as you are, and as I know you. Whatever either in 
 ourselves or in our circumstances, marriage may alter, we 
 will endeavour to arrange by reason, cheerful courage, and 
 Lf"<>d will. As it is not passion, but attachment ami 
 ftdence which have brought MS together, we ineur less risk 
 than a thousand others. You will, doubtless, bear with me, 
 
 'inetimes affectionately remember my former f: 
 
 and in return I will press your son to my heart as it' 1 Were 
 
 not her. If you will consent to share my hum hie < I \\el- 
 
 ra, and in the meantime the purchase of \<mr 
 
 te may be concluded. I should wish, however, that no 
 
 furl i.- vere taken in the matter without my BMtstaiiee, 
 
 to j : I deserve the confidence which you have 
 
 upon me. Farewell, my dear, dear friend! ! 
 :n()in ! honoured husband! Theresa embraces you 
 with hope and joy. Natalia will tell you more, will tell you 
 
 Wilhelm, who beheld his Theresa fully represented in this 
 \ completely recovered his composure. During 
 its perusal the most rapid thoughts alternated within his. 
 soul. With indignation he observed in his heart 1 he 
 undoubted traces of an inclination for Natalia. II- 
 denmed himself, and pronounced every such idea to he mad- 
 he thought of Theresa in all her perfection, he read her 
 r again, and he became more cheerful, or rather he 
 recovered so far that he could appear cheerful. Natalia now 
 letters which she had interchanged with 
 -a, and from them we shall extract a few pass: 
 "When Theresa had concluded a description of her hushand, 
 she continued thus. 
 
 " Such is my idea of the man who has just offered me his 
 hand. His own opinion of himself you will learn at some 
 future time, from the papers, in which he has delin- 
 himself to me with perfect candour I am convinced that 
 with him I shall find happiness." 
 
 for rank, yon have long known my thoughts upon that 
 
 Subject. Som keeldv feel t ; 
 
408 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 ward circumstances. I have no wish to alter the opinion of 
 others, but I will act according to my own convictions. I 
 do not intend to set an example to others, though I am not 
 acting without an example. I fear nothing but interior 
 disagreements a vessel which is not adapted for its contents 
 great display and little enjoyment riches and avarice 
 nobility and rudeness youth and pedantry want and cere- 
 mony these are the things which would annihilate me, let 
 the world prize and value them as it may." 
 
 " In hoping that we shall suit each other, I ground my 
 expectations upon the belief that he resembles you, my dear 
 Natalia, you, a being whom I prize and reverence so highly. 
 Yes, like you he possesses that noble wish to search and 
 strive after the Best, by which we produce the Grood, which 
 we hope to find elsewhere. How often have I not silently 
 censured you, because your conduct towards certain friends, 
 or your behaviour, in certain cases, has been different from 
 what my own would have been, and yet the result has always 
 proved that you were right. You have been accustomed 
 to say, that by dealing with men as they are, we make them 
 worse, but by treating them as if they really were what they 
 ought to be, we improve them as far as it is possible. I 
 know that I can neither see things thus, nor can I act in 
 this manner. Penetration, order, discipline, command, are 
 my peculiar gifts. I well remember Jarno's expression, 
 4 Theresa drills her pupils Natalia instructs them. 5 In- 
 deed, upon one occasion, he went so far as to deny that I 
 possessed any of those indispensable virtues, faith, hope, or 
 love. ' Instead of faith,' he said, "she has penetration 
 instead of love, constancy and instead of hope, she has 
 trust.' I will even admit, that before I knew you, I thought the 
 most valuable qualities in the world were clear-sightedness 
 and prudence, but now your presence has pervaded, animated 
 and conquered me, and I willingly yield the preference to 
 your pure and exalted soul. In the same sense I honour 
 my distinguished friend. The history of his life is a per- 
 petual seeking, without being able to find, but his has not 
 been an empty seeking, but a wonderful and generous toil, 
 and he has always hoped to obtain from others, what could 
 only proceed from himself. And so, love, my clear sighted- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 490 
 
 ness has not injured me in the present instance. I know 
 my husband better than he lias known himself, and, there- 
 fore, I value him more highly. I see him and I understand 
 him, but all my penetration cannot tell me how iniieh he is 
 capable of accomplishing. When 1 think of him, his ima^e 
 always appears to me in conjunction with yours, and I know 
 not how I have proved worthy to possess two such friends. 
 But I will become worthy of them, by devoting myself to my 
 duty, by fulfilling all that is expected from m 
 
 " * Do I think of Lothario ?' Vividly and daily. He is never 
 one moment absent from the society of those beings who live 
 in my remembrance. O! how I lament that that excellent 
 man, who i> iviated to me by an error of youth. >hould have 
 i with yon by ties of nature. In very truth a 
 being, such as you are, would have been more worthy of him 
 than 1 can be. 1 would have surrendered him to you. Let 
 us be to him all that is possible, until he find a worthy wife, 
 and let us then continue perpetually together." 
 
 " But what will our friends say ?" observed Natalia. * .M \ 
 brother knows nothing of the event not in the least the 
 entire affair has been managed for once by us women. I 
 know not the fancies with which Lydia has contrived to 
 imbue Theresa, but she seems to mistrust both the Abbe 
 and Jarno. Lydia has hinted some suspicions of secret 
 Cements and plans, of which I have heard in a general 
 manner, without wishing to inquire into them more parti- 
 cularly, and in this decisive step of her life, she has not 
 wished that any other person than myself should influent 
 her. She had previously arranged with my brother that 
 they should mutually inform each other of their union, with- 
 out consulting with any one upon the subject/' 
 
 Natalia now addressed a letter to her brother, and invited 
 
 "Wilhelm to add a few words, in compliance with the wish of 
 
 Theresa. They were about to seal it, when Jarno was unex- 
 
 lly announced. He was received as kindly as possible, 
 
 oked cheerful and merry, and could not long avoid 
 
 saying, " I have come to acquaint you with a strange but 
 
 pleasant piece of news, which concerns our Theresa. You 
 
 i blamed us, dear Natalia, for troubling our^ 
 
500 WILHELM MEISTEIl's 
 
 about so many matters, but you will now admit the ad- 
 vantage of having our spies every where. Gue-s and prove 
 your sagacity for once." 
 
 The confidence with which he said this, the cunning look 
 with which he surveyed Wilhelm and Natalia, convinced 
 them both that their secret had been discovered. Natalia 
 answered with a smile, " We are more clever than you think, 
 and have already committed to paper the solution of your 
 riddle, even before you have proposed it." 
 
 With these w r ords ^she handed him the letter to Lothario, 
 and fi'lt satisfied at having so successfully prevented the 
 surprise which had been intended for them. Jarno took the 
 letter with some astonishment, read it quickly, started, 
 let it fall from his hands, and stared at them with an expres- 
 sion of surprise and alarm, to which he was wholly unaccus- 
 tomed. He did not utter a word. 
 
 Wilhelm and Natalia were petrified. Jarno paced rest- 
 lessly up and down the room. "What shall 1 say?" he 
 exclaimed, " or rather shall I tell what has happened ? It 
 cannot remain a secret, and the difficulty cannot be avoided. 
 Therefore, secret for secret ! Surprise for surprise ! The- 
 resa is not the daughter of her supposed mother. The 
 obstacle is removed, and I have come hither to beg you will 
 prepare for her marriage with Lothario." 
 
 elarno observed the astonishment of them both, although 
 they bent their eyes upon the ground. " The present case," 
 lu' said, "is one of those in which the company of others is 
 distressing. It is better that each person should indulge 
 his own reflections in private, and I, at least, beg that I may 
 retire for a short time." He hastened into the garden, and 
 Wilhelm followed him mechanically at some distance. 
 
 After the lapse of an hour, they were again assembled. 
 Wilhelm commenced by observing. " Formerly, when I was 
 living without any object or plan of life, in a state of levity 
 and indifference, frie.r\dship, love, attachment and confidence 
 met me with open arms, and even forced themselves upon 
 me. But now when I wish to be serious, fate appears to 
 treat me very differently. My determination to offer my hand 
 to Theresa, is perhaps the only resolution w T hich has ever 
 come pure and unbidden from my heart* I formed my 
 plans with deliberation, my reason approved it, and with 
 
API'! -HIP COL 
 
 the consent of the dearlv loved maiden, nil my hopes 
 were fulfilled. But now the strangest fate rejects my 
 outstretched hand. Theresa extends her own to me as in a 
 
 0, but 1 cannot irrasp it, and the lovely imaire var 
 forever. So, farewell, thou deaiv-t imaije, and all my hopes 
 of bliss and happiness which gathered around thee !" 
 
 He remained silent for an instant, and Jarno was about 
 
 to answer him. " Let me add one word more,*' said 
 
 Wilhelm, "tor the die whieh is about to be cast will alleet 
 
 n iy whole existence. ] unent I feel the full < 
 
 of the impression which Lothario's presence first produced 
 
 upon me, and which has IK-\ v mind. He is worthy 
 
 ofthewa: ndship and afl'eetion, and without some 
 
 ice, IP triendship can he])roved. For his sake, I four, d 
 
 maiden, and for hi- - . I shall 
 
 find it possible to renounce a bride. Go, then, inform him 
 of the singular \hich has occurred, and tell him for 
 
 t I am pr 
 
 . cases of this nature, I hold it im- 
 mt that nothing should be rashly done. Let us take 
 o's consent. I will go to him at once, 
 and v. ,,tly for i: >r tor his let' 
 
 ids in the greatest distress 
 
 of mind. They had t i me now to reflect upon past evn it s, anrl 
 to dr. .\vninferencesfromthem. They remembered 
 
 now for the fir.-t time, that they had received jarno*s siniru- 
 1 ar :innoir.ci-!nent without inquiring into any of the :r 
 dant circumstances. Wilhelm began to entertain his doubts, 
 uhen to th. ' iment and ]>erplexity, a 
 
 {'mm Theresa on the following day, and 
 : of a ktter to Natalia. 
 
 it may appear, I must' write another letter 
 'i \\ill send my husband to me without delay. 
 He shall be my husband in spite of the plans which they 
 are c<> \emeofhim. (iive him the en< 
 
 " hut not before witnesses of any kind." 
 
 Wilhelm was a< follows: 
 
 " \Vhat will you t!;ink of your Theresa, if she now insists 
 mately upon a union, which the most calm reileeiion 
 \c inspiivd r Let nothing piw<-nt you 
 from setting out immediately upon receipt of this I. 
 
502 WILKELM MEISTER'S 
 
 Come, come, my dear, dear friend, now three times dearer, 
 since they are endeavouring to deprive me of you." 
 
 ""What is to be done?" cried Wilhelm, when he had 
 perused this letter. 
 
 Natalia replied, after some reflection, " I never remember 
 my heart and judgment to be so completely silent as at 
 present. I know not how to act, or what to suggest. ' 
 
 " Is it possible," asked Wilhelm, " that Lothario can be ig- 
 norant of what has happened, or if he knows it, can he be like 
 ourselves, the mere sport of some concealed design ? Could 
 Jarno have devised the plot immediately upon reading our 
 letter ? Might he not have given us some other information, 
 if we had* not been so hasty? What can they mean, or 
 what can their intentions be ? Can Theresa have formed 
 any plan ? It cannot be denied that Lothario is the 
 victim of secret plots and contrivances ; I have myself 
 observed how active the persons are by whom he is sur- 
 rounded, they influence the proceedings and destiny of 
 many individuals, whom they manage to guide. I do not 
 know what may be their ultimate object, but I can plainly 
 see that their present purpose is to deprive me of Theresa. 
 On one side, I behold the prospect of Lothario's happiness, 
 which may be but a fiction, and on the other, I see my love, 
 my honoured bride who invites me to her heart. What 
 shall I do then ? how am I to act ?" 
 
 " A little patience a little time for reflection !" said 
 Natalia, " In these strange entanglements I know too 
 well, that a step which is irrevocable, should never be taken 
 in haste. We can oppose constancy and prudence to their 
 fables or their artful designs and it cannot long remain 
 doubtful whether the story which we have heard is true or 
 false. If my brother really indulges hopes of concluding a 
 marriage with Theresa, it would be cruel to destroy his 
 happiness, at a moment when every thing .seems to 
 shine upon him. Let us first ascertain how much he knows, 
 and inquire what he himself believes and hopes." 
 
 A letter from Lothario shewed the prudence of this 
 advice. "I do not intend to send Jarno back to you,'' he 
 wrote, " one line from my hand is of more value, than the 
 longest message delivered by a stranger. I am convinced 
 that Theresa is not the daughter of her reputed mother, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 503 
 
 and I shall never resign the hope of possessing her, till she 
 has been persuaded of this fact, and can then decide calmly 
 between the claims of myself and my friend. Do not permit 
 him to leave you, I implore. The happiness, the life of 
 your brother is at stake. I promise that this uncertainty 
 shall not long continue." 
 
 " You see the present condition of our business, 1 ' she 
 said, with a friendly voice to \Vilhelm, " give me your word 
 of honour that you* will not leave the house." 
 
 " I give it," he cried, stretching out his hand, " I will not 
 this house against your will. I thank God and my 
 better genius that upon this occasion I am guided by 
 you." 
 
 Natalia wrote an account of the whole occurrence to 
 Theresa, declaring that she would not allow Wilhelm to 
 leave her, and she enclosed Lothario's letter to her at the 
 io time. 
 
 Theresa answered, " I am not a little surprised that 
 Lothario should be himself convinced, for with his sister he 
 could not surely practise dissimulation to this extent . Iain 
 distressed, beyond measure distressed. It is better that I 
 should say no more. And my wisest course will be to go to 
 you, \\hen I have settled poor Lydia, who atpresent is enduring 
 eruel t reatment. I fear we have all been deceived, and shall 
 continue to be so, beyond the possibility of explanation. If 
 my friend thought as I do, he would contrive to effect his 
 escape from you, and throw himself into the arms of his 
 Tiieresa, from whom no person should ever afterwards 
 h him. But I fear that I shall lose him, without ob- 
 t ;iiniiig Lothario. They are depriving him of Lydia, hold- 
 ing out the delusion of a distant hope that he may yet 
 succeed in obtaining me. I can say no more, the perplexity 
 may become even greater. Time alone will shew whether 
 our happy prospects may not be so injured, undermined, 
 -haltered, that when the present mystery is cleared up, 
 the evil may be irremediable. If my friend continues win T 
 he is at present, I shall come to you in a few day- 
 ret a in you near me. You wonder that passion should have 
 thus overpowered your Theresa. But it is not passion, it is 
 lion that since Lothario never can be mine, this new 
 friend may form the happiness of my life. Tell him this, in 
 
504 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 the name of the little boy who sat with him under the oak 
 tree, and delighted in his sympathy. Tell him this, in the 
 name of Theresa, who received his proposals with the most 
 cordial sincerity. My earliest dream of passing an existence 
 with Lothario, has vanished from my soul the dream of 
 living with my new friend, engrosses my whole imagination. 
 And am I so lightly esteemed, that it is thought an easy 
 matter for me to renounce my present attachment ?" 
 
 " I rely upon you," Natalia said to "Wilhelm, as she 
 handed him Theresa's letter. " Do not leave me. Think 
 that I have placed the happiness of my life in your hands. 
 My welfare is so bound up, and interwoven, with the happi- 
 ness of my brother, that he can feel no pain which I do not . 
 likewise experience, no joy to which I can be a stranger. I 
 may truly say that I have found, through him alone, that the 
 heart may be affected and exalted, that in this world there 
 may be joy, love and a feeling which contents the soul beyond 
 its every want." 
 
 She paused. "Wilhelm took her hand and exclaimed, {t O, 
 continue ! this is the proper moment to express a true 
 and mutual confidence ; it is only necessary that we should 
 understand each other." 
 
 " Yes, my friend !" she said, smiling with her easy, soft, 
 and indescribable dignity, " it may not be an improper time 
 for me to tell you, that all that which we have so often read 
 in books, and which the world holds up to us, and designates 
 as love, has ever appeared to me the veriest fable." 
 
 "You have never loved !" cried Wilhelm. 
 
 " Never or always !" replied Natalia. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DURING this conversation, they had been walking in the 
 garden. Natalia had gathered several strange flowers, 
 which were quite new to "Wilhelm, and of which he eagerly 
 asked the names. 
 
 " You will scarcely guess," said Natalia, " for whom I have 
 plucked these flowers. They are intended for my uncle, to 
 whom we must pay a visit. The sun is shining at this moment 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 505 
 
 brightly upon the Hall of the Past, T must conduct you thi- 
 ther \vii hunt delay, and 1 never visit that plain 1 without taking 
 with me, which my unele particular^ loved. 
 He v. -ilar man, aiul eptible of tin* strangest 
 
 impr For certain plants and animals, for certain 
 
 individuals and places, and even t'ur certain surts of minerals, 
 red a strong attachment which it was almost im- 
 .lain. ' If I had not from my youth/ hi- was 
 isted myself, and endeavoured to form 
 
 myj', upon broad and general principles, I should 
 
 >st narrow-minded and intolerable of 
 
 DP8 intoleral.de than trivial 
 
 i from whom one may expect a pure 
 
 and proper artivit;. >bliged to o\\ n 
 
 that! uld have been in danger, if he had denied 
 
 himsr . 1 the intense 
 
 . B6 nor 
 
 d. It is not my fault, he would say, if I have not been 
 
 :,y jud-r . complete harmony with my 
 
 s. . Upon such .'.onld je>t with me, and say, 
 
 1 Natalia can be esteemed happy during her life time, her 
 
 nature desires nothing which the world in general does not 
 
 wish.' " 
 
 During their conversation they arrived at the building. 
 
 Sbe led him though a w id to a door, before which 
 
 lunxes of granite. The door itself 
 
 was constructed in the Egyptian fashion, a little narmuer 
 above than below, and the b s prepared the v 
 
 ,111 ami even gloomy feeling. Wilhelm, 1 
 was agreeably surprised when thi it ion changed to a 
 
 sensation of happy cheerfulness, as they entered a hall in which 
 art and life removed every idea of death and the grave. \ 
 ssion of well proportioned arches had been sunk 
 in the walls, in which some large sarcophaguses had been 
 d, in the intervening pillars, he observed some smaller 
 niches, containing urns and funeral vessels ; in other pi. 
 
 e of the walls had been divided into compartments, 
 and between bright and variegated border- garlands, 
 
 and other ornaments, together with cheerful and ex 
 sive fiiniivs painted upon panels of different sizes. The ot her 
 parts of the building were decorated with beautiful yellow 
 
50G WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 marble, which passed into a reddish hue and mingling 
 with blue lines, formed of a chemical composition, resembled 
 azure stone, which while it satisfied the eye with the con- 
 trast, gave unity and connection to the whole. All the 
 display of ornament was executed in the purest architectural 
 taste, and the stranger, as he entered, felt himself exalted, 
 and by the various combinations of art, he first perceived 
 what man was, and what he might become. 
 
 Opposite the door, upon a noble sarcophagus, was seen the 
 marble figure of a man reposing upon a pillow. He held a 
 scroll in his hand, upon which he appeared to gaze with silent 
 attention. It was so placed that one could easily read the 
 words which were inscribed thereon. They were as follows 
 "Think of living." 
 
 Natalia, removing a withered garland, placed a fresh one 
 before the image of her uncle for he was the person whom 
 the figure represented and Wilhelm thought he could re- 
 cognise the features of the old gentleman, whom he had for- 
 merly seen in the wood. " We have spent many hours 
 together, in this spot," observed Natalia, " whilst this hall 
 was being prepared. During his latter years he had collected 
 some skilful artists around him, and his most favourite 
 amusement consisted in inventing and arranging the drawings 
 and cartoons for these paintings." 
 
 Wilhelm could not sufficiently enjoy the various objects 
 by which he was surrounded. "What a life !" he exclaimed, 
 " is this Hall of the Past ! With equal propriety might we 
 name it the Hall of the Present, or of the Future ! For 
 so every thing has been, and so every thing will be ! 
 Nothing is transitory, save the mortal who beholds and enjoys 
 it all. This picture, of a mother pressing her infant to her 
 heart, w r ill live through many a generation of happy mothers. 
 After centuries, perhaps, some father's heart will glow at 
 the appearance of this aged man, who lays aside his ear- 
 nestness and plays for a moment with his child. And thus 
 will the bride blush for many a year, and seek amid her silent 
 wishes for comfort and companionship. And thus will the 
 impatient bridegroom pause upon the threshold, and listen 
 whether he may enter." 
 
 Wilhelm beheld innumerable images around him. From 
 the earliest cheerful impulse of childhood to employ its 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 507 
 
 limbs in play, to the quiet retired earnest ness of t lu- 
 be saw, in living order, how man ]>< no natural 
 ity or talent, without devoting it to some practical pur- 
 1-Yom the first conscious feeling which induces the 
 maiden to linger whilst she draws IUT pitcher from tho 
 fountain, and to behold her own imai;o with inward >atisfac- 
 tion, to the high festivities when kings and people appeal 
 the altar to the gods to witness their alliances, all was 
 delineated forcibly and with overpowering enV 
 
 The spectators here were surrounded by a world, by a 
 11, and in addition to the thoughts which these polished 
 figures excited, besides the emotions which they awoke, there 
 some other in- le feeling present, by which the 
 
 man was influenced. Wilhelm ;iiis, without bring 
 
 able to account for it " What is it," he asked, " which inde- 
 pendent of the meaning and sympathy with which human 
 actions and advent ures inspire us, acts so powerfully upon 
 me a ? It speaks to me from the whole scene be- 
 
 :nd from every part of it, though I cannot apply 
 to myself any thing that I behold. \Vhat enchantment 
 <lo 1 not see in these surfaces, in these lines, these heights 
 and breadths, these masses and colours? What is it that 
 delights me in these figures, even when cursorily insp. 
 
 re ornaments? Yes, I feel that we might linger here 
 and rest, and view the whole and be happy, though our 
 /tits might turn to other subjects than the scenes 
 befon 
 
 And, in truth, could we only explain how happily every 
 
 tiling was divided, and arranged in its proper place, so as by 
 
 combination, contrast, simplicity or varietv, to produce a 
 
 ct and distinct effect, we should transport the reader to 
 
 a scene, from which he would not willingly depart. 
 
 Four large candelabra stood in the corner of the hall, and 
 four smaller ones in the middle, surrounding a beautifully 
 carved sarcophagus, which from its appearance might once 
 have contained a person of middle size. 
 
 Natalia paused for a moment near it, and placing her hand 
 upon it, she observed, "My uncle had a great love tor this an- 
 cient monument, he used frequently to say, ' It is not oidv the 
 hat fall, such as you can preserve above in those 
 other funeral urns, but the fruits, which hanging from the 
 
.508 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 bough, delude us with the fairest hopes whilst a secret worm 
 prepares their early ripeness for a quick decay.' I fear," she 
 continued, "that his words may bear reference to the dear 
 maiden, who seems gradually to be withdrawing from our 
 cares, and inclining to this peaceful dwelling." 
 
 As they were about to take leave, Natalia said, " I must 
 draw your attention to one thing more. Observe those 
 semicircular openings in the ceiling. They were constructed 
 to conceal the chorus of singers, and those brazen ornaments 
 below the cornice, serve to fasten the tapestry, which, In- 
 direction of my uncle, must be used at every funeral. 
 He could not exist without music, and especially without 
 singing, but it was his peculiar taste that the singers ne\ er 
 should be seen. He was accustomed to say, ' The theatre 
 spoils us completely there the music is intended for the 
 eye, it accompanies motions, not emotions.' At oratorios 
 and concerts the figure of the performer always distracts us 
 true music is for the ear ; a line voice is the most general 
 idea which we can conceive, and whilst the petty individual 
 who produces it appears before our eyes, the pure effect of 
 the general idea is disturbed. I like to see the person with 
 whom 1 converse, for he is a particular individual, whose form 
 and character imparts value or worthlessness to his conver- 
 sation but whoever sings to me should be invisible, that 
 his appearance may not confuse nor warp my judgment. In 
 this case one human organ speaks to another not spirit to 
 spirit, nor a manifold world to the eye, nor a heaven to man. 
 For this reason, he always required that instrumental music 
 at a concert should be concealed as much as possible, as the 
 mind becomes so perplexed and disturbed by the mechanical 
 motions and awkward gestures of the performers. It was 
 his delight to listen to music with his eyes closed, that his 
 whole being might be concentrated upon the one pure en- 
 oyment of the ear." 
 
 'They were about to leave the hall, when the children ran 
 violently through the passage, and they heard Felix exclaim, 
 "No! I. No! I." 
 
 Mignon was the first to rush through the open door. 
 She was breathless, and could not utter a word, but Felix, 
 who was at a little distance, cried out, " Mamma Theresa is 
 here !" The children, it appears, had run a race to bring 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 509 
 
 the news. Mignon was lying in Natalia's arms, and her 
 heart 1-eat violently. 
 
 Naughty child!" said Natalia, "is not every violent 
 eise forbidden ? See how your heart beata." 
 
 " Let it break !" replied Mignon with a deep sigh, " it has 
 too long beaten already." 
 
 They had scarcely recovered from this sudden surprise and 
 
 tumult, when Theresa entered. .She ran to Natalia and em- 
 
 (1 both her and Mignon. She then turned to AVilhelm, 
 
 and looked at him with her clear eves and said, " \Vell, my 
 
 friend, what have you done? Have you allowed them to impose 
 
 upon you ?" He advanced towards her she rushed to him, 
 
 and \\m\cr upon his neck. " O, my Theresa!" he exclaimed. 
 
 -iy friend, my love, my husband: \vs. for ever your's," 
 
 she cried amid the m<> M-S. 
 
 Felix seized her by the gown, and cried, "Mamma The- 
 resa! I am also here." Natalia paused and looked on 
 silently. Mignon suddenly piv->ed her left; hand to her 
 heart, and extending 1 :,:md violently, she fell with 
 
 a shriek apparently lifeless at Natalia's feet. 
 
 They were dreadfully alarmed. No motion of the head 
 or pulse was perceptible. "\Vilhelm took her in his arms, 
 and carried her hastily away ; her body hung motionless 
 o\er his shoulders. The presence of the doctor afforded 
 them but little consolation he and the young surgeon, to 
 whom we have already alluded, exerted themselves in vain. 
 The dear little creature could not be restored to life. 
 
 Natalia motioned to Theresa. The latter took her friend's 
 
 hand, and conducted him from the room. He was silent 
 
 uttered not a syllable, and dared not meet her eyes. He sat 
 
 d . A n near her, upon the sofa, where he had met Natalia for 
 
 irst time, lie thought rapidly of the multitude of 
 
 s which had happened, or rather he did not think, but 
 
 allowed them to produce an effect upon his soul which he 
 
 could not; avoid. 
 
 Theiv are moments in life in which circumstances, like 
 v\ ini^ed shuttles, move backwards and forwards before us, and 
 without eeasinir. finish the web which we ourselves have pre- 
 pared and partly spun. " My friend!" said Theresa, "my 
 beloved :" breaking the silence and taking him by the hand, 
 us remain firmly united at this moment, as perhap 
 
510 , IVILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 may often need to be, in similar cases. There are events 
 which it requires the union of two hearts to bear. Eeflect, 
 my friend ! remember that you are not alone prove that 
 you love your Theresa, by sharing your sorrows with her!" 
 She embraced him and drew him close to her bosom. He 
 clasped her in his arms, and pressed her tenderly to himself. 
 " That poor child," he cried, l< would in sorrowful moments 
 seek refuge and protection in my inconstant heart. Let the 
 firmness of your's now assist me in this dreadful hour." 
 She held him locked in her embrace, he felt the beating of 
 her heart against his own but his soul was desolate and 
 solitary only the figures of Miguon and Natalia floated be- 
 fore his imagination. 
 
 Natalia entered. " Give us your blessing !" cried The- 
 resa, " and let us be united before you in this hour of sor- 
 row." Wilhelin hid his face upon Theresa's neck; he felt 
 happy that he was able to weep. He had not heard Natalia 
 approach he had not seen her, but at the sound of her voice 
 his tears redoubled. " What God has joined, I will not put 
 asunder," answered Natalia with a smile, "but it is not in 
 my power to unite you, nor does it afford me pleasure to see 
 that grief and sympathy have so completely banished the 
 memory of my brother from your hearts." At these words 
 Wilhelin tore himself from Theresa's arms. " Whither are 
 you going ?" they both exclaimed together. " Let me see 
 the child whom I have murdered," he replied. "A misfor- 
 tune upon which we look is less dreadful than one which 
 oppresses the soul through the powers of imagination let 
 me, therefore, see the departed angel! Her serene look will 
 tell me that she is happy." As they could not restrain the 
 agitated youth, they accompanied him, but the doctor and the 
 surgeon meeting them, prevented their intention. 4< With- 
 draw," they said, " from this sad spectacle, and permit us, as 
 far as the resources of art will allow, to give some perpetuity 
 to these remains. I will exercise all my power, not only to 
 preserve the remains of this dear being, but to communicate 
 to them an appearance of life. I foresaw her death, I have 
 made all the necessary preparations, and with their assistance 
 I cannot but succeed. Grant me a delay of a few days, and 
 do not ask to see the child again, until she has been trans- 
 ferred to the Hall of the Past." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 5 1 1 
 
 The young surgeon held in his hands the well known CM so 
 of instruments. " From whom cftii he have obtained them ?" 
 Wilhelm asked the Doctor. " I knew them well/' answered 
 Natalia, " he received them from his father, who bound up 
 your wounds in the forest." 
 
 " Then I have not been mistaken," cried Wilhelm, " I 
 recognised the ribbon immediately. Procure it for me. It 
 first brought me upon the trace of my benefactress. 
 Through what happiness :ind misery will not such a lifeless 
 thing as this endure ! How much anguish has not this 
 ribbon already witnessed, and yet its threads still hold 
 together ! How many a death pang has it not beheld, and 
 yet it colours are not faded ! It was near to me in one of the 
 happiest hours of my existence, when I lay wounded on the 
 ground, and your kind form appeared before me, and the 
 child, whose untimely death we now bewail, was sitting near 
 me, with its hair all bathed in blood, busied with the ten- 
 derest solicitude to save my life." 
 
 They were allowed but a short time to advert to this 
 occurrence, and to answer Theresa's inquiries about the 
 child, and the apparent cause of its sudden death, for the 
 arrival of some visitors was announced, who when they had 
 made their appearance proved not to be absolute strangers, for 
 Lothario, Jarno, and the Abbe entered. Natalia advanced, 
 to meet her brother, and the others preserved a momentary 
 silence. Theresa then said, with a smile, to Lothario, " You 
 scarcely expected to meet me here, at least our interview at 
 the present moment had been better postponed, but, never- 
 theless, allow me, after so long an absence, to give you a 
 cordial reception." 
 
 Lothario gave her his hand, and answered, '* If .we are 
 destined to suffer and to part, it may as well occur in the 
 presence of the being whom we love and whom we desire. 
 I seek not to influence your decision, and my confidence in 
 your heart, your understanding, and clear judgment, is so 
 great, that I willingly place in your hands my own fate and 
 that of my friend." 
 
 The conversation turned then upon general and unimpor- 
 tant subjects, and the company shortly afterwards separated 
 into different parties for a walk. Natalia took Lothario, 
 Theresa accompanied the Abbe, and Wilhelm remained with 
 Jarno in the castle. 
 
512 -WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 The appearance of these three friends, at a time when 
 sorrow lay heavy upon Wilhelm's heart, had, instead of re- 
 lieving his mind, only irritated and distressed him ; he grew 
 angry and fretful and made no secret of his ill temper, 
 which occasioned Jarno to question him about the cause. 
 " Why need I say more," he cried ; " Lothario and his com- 
 panions have arrived, and it would be strange if those mys- 
 terious inhabitants of the tower, who are so perpetually 
 busy, should fail to exert their influence upon us. As far 
 as I can judge of these persons, they always seem to be em- 
 ployed in endeavouring to separate what is united, or to 
 unite what is separated. What sort of web thry may 
 eventually weave will, perhaps, remain for ever an enigma 
 to our profane eyes." 
 
 " You are angry and satirical," cried Jarno ; " that is well. 
 If you were only in a proper passion it would even be 
 better." 
 
 " And, perhaps, that may happen yet," answered Wilhelm, 
 " and I rather fear that my natural good temper may be over 
 irritated." 
 
 " And in the mean time," said Jarno, " until we see what 
 is to be the end of our adventures, I can tell you something 
 about the tower, which you seem to view with so much 
 mistrust." 
 
 " You may act as you please," replied Wilhelm, " for my 
 attention is wholly engaged. My mind is so perplexed at 
 present that I can scarcely interest myself sufficiently in 
 the subject." 
 
 u Your indifference," said Jarno, '* shall not prevent me 
 from giving an account of the matter. You consider me 
 a clever fellow, and henceforth you shall reckon me an 
 honest one, and what is more, I have now a commission to 
 execute in reference to you" "I wish," observed Wil- 
 helm, " that you were addressing me of your own accord, and 
 with an honest wish to give me information, but, as I cannot 
 listen to you without mistrust, why should I attend to you at 
 all." " If I have no better task to execute," continued Jarno, 
 " than to relate mere fairy tales, you at least have time to listen 
 to me, and you may feel more disposed to do this, when 1 
 inform you that you saw nothing in the tower but the mere 
 remains of a youthful amusement, in which the greater 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 513 
 
 part of the persons concerned, once took a deep interest, 
 though we now only regard them with a smile." 
 
 " Then all your grave words and signs were mere delu- 
 sions," cried Wilhelm. " With solemnity you conduct us to 
 a place, whose very appearance inspires us with reverence, 
 we there behold the >t rankest visions, you hand us parch- 
 ments filled with noble and mysterious sayings, of which 
 
 in understand but little, we are informed that hitherto 
 we have been pupils, you then declare us free, and we re- 
 main no wiser than we were before." " Have you got the 
 parchment with you?" inquired Jarno ; "it contains much 
 wisd(Jm. For those apparent proverbs were not written 
 at random, though they may seem dark and meaningless 
 to the unreflecting mind. But give me the Indenture, if it 
 be in your possession." 
 
 II.' it is," said Wilhelm, "a charm of this nature 
 
 should be worn near the heart." "Now," replied Jarno, 
 
 with a smile, "who knows whether its contents may not one 
 
 day be deemed worthy to find a place within your head ?" 
 
 Jarno perused the first half of it rapidly. " These ob- 
 
 i>i is," he said, "refer to the cultivation of our taste 
 
 t a topic which I shall leave to others ; the remainder 
 treats of life a subject which 1 better understand.' 
 
 He commenced to read several passages, making observa- 
 tions at intervals, and connecting them with remarks and 
 anecdotes of his own. "The disposition of youth for st - 
 cresy, for ceremony, and imposing words is extraordinary, 
 and it is frequently a sign of a certain depth of character. 
 We wish, at that period, to feel our whole being darkly and 
 mysteriously moved. The youth who anticipates great 
 tilings, expects to find mighty resources in what is secret, 
 and hopes, by their means, to accomplish much. With such 
 iinpr be Abbe patronized a certain society of young 
 
 men, partly from his friendly disposition, and partly because 
 he had been formerly connected with a society which carried 
 
 s proceedings in >em-t. I did not relish these pursuit.-. 
 1 was older fchac i , others, I had been frank and open from 
 my youth, and loved candour beyond every thing. J wished 
 to be< uiihted with the world as it jvjilly was, an;l I 
 
 .nunicated my tastes to my companions, and 
 unosL changed our whole s^ 
 2 L 
 
514 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 we now began to criticize the faults and deficiencies of 
 others, and to esteem ourselves as the most perfect of human 
 beings. The Abbe now came to our assistance, and taught 
 us that we should never scrutinize the conduct of our neigh- 
 bours without an anxiety for their improvement, and that 
 activity alone would enable us to watch and judge ourselves. 
 He recommended us, however, to adhere to the first form of 
 our Society, and, therefore, there was an appearance of some 
 regularity in our proceedings, in which, however, the first 
 mysterious impressions of the whole were easily observable, 
 and, subsequently, it assumed the form of an undertaking, 
 whose object was to elevate the arts. Hence arose the 
 terms Apprentices, Assistants, and Masters. We wished 
 to examine every thing with our own eyes, and to keep a 
 special record of our worldly experience. Hence arose the 
 numerous confessions, which, in part, we wrote ourselves, 
 and, in part, obtained from others, and from which the 
 several Apprenticeships were afterwards composed. All 
 men do not concern themselves with the education of their 
 characters. Many employ themselves in searching for com- 
 fort, hunting after riches, or exploring some other means of 
 happiness. Persons of this description, who were not anxious 
 for proper instruction, we amused with mysteries or delu- 
 sions, or altogether neglected. We never declared any to 
 be free who did not feel and acknowledge the object for 
 which they were born, and possess sufficient experience to 
 pursue their course of life with satisfaction and ease/' 
 
 "In my case then," observed Wilhelm, "you have been 
 somewhat speedy, for even now I am ignorant of what I can 
 accomplish, or to what I should devote my powers." " We 
 are not to blame for this uncertainty good fortune may, 
 perhaps, assist us ; but, in the meantime, listen : The man 
 in whom much is to be developed, will not too early become 
 acquainted with himself and with the world. Few mortals 
 possess deep reflection and activity combined. Reflection 
 expands, but weakens activity animates, but circumscribes. 
 
 *' I beg," said Wilhelm, "that you will not read any more 
 of this mysterious language to me. Such phrases have con- 
 fused me quite enough already." 
 
 "Then I will return to my narrative," continued Jarno, 
 half folding up the parchment, and only now and then look- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 515 
 
 inc; at it in a cursory manner. " I hate been myself of little 
 benefit to the Society or to mankind. I am but an inditle- 
 rent teacher, for I cannot endure to see a person making un- 
 successful attempts, I must call aloud to every one who 
 wanders from his path, even though he were a somnambulist 
 in the act of risking his life. And on this subject I diU'ered 
 frequently with the Abbe, who maintained that errors could 
 only be cured by a course of erring. And we have often 
 argued about you. You were a special favourite with 
 him, and it was no small compliment to have attracted 
 
 ittt ntion. You will do me the justice to acknow- 
 ledge that, upon all occasions, I have told you the naked 
 truth." " You have seldom spared me," replied 'Wilhelm, 
 " and you seem to have been always true to your principles." 
 " Why should we spare," added Jarno, " when a youth of 
 hiijh endowment- i \\rongcourse?" 
 
 " Pardon me," said Wilhelm, " you have already posi- 
 tively denied that I possess any talents for the stage, I con- 
 fess, however, that though I have wholly abandoned that 
 pursuit, I do not consider myself quite incompetent/ 
 
 (1 it has been long my opinion/' said Jarno, " that 
 
 10 can only act himself, is no actor. He who cannot 
 convert himself, both in thought and appearance, into a 
 
 ty of characters, deserves not the title of actor. 
 Km- example, you have played the part of Hamlet and 
 several other characters most admirably, because your own 
 disposition, your figure, and the temper of the moment, were 
 adapted to the part. And that was sufficient for an amateur 
 theatre, and for a person who could see no other way open 
 
 c him. But," said Jarno, as he looked into the parchment, 
 4 ' we should be cautious in the exercise of a talent which 
 we cannot hope to bring to perfection. For no matter how 
 much we may improve, we shall never fail when we 
 thoroughly comprehend the merit of the master, bitterly to 
 deplore the loss of time and strength which have been de- 
 
 . to such tolly." 
 
 " Do not read !" cried Wilhelm. " I implore of you not 
 to read. Speak, relate, instruct me. And so it was the 
 Abbe who assisted me in Hamlet, who provided me with the 
 Ghost!" " Yes ! for he declared that it was the onlv \\av 
 to cure you, if a cure were possible." " And therefore hV 
 left the veil behind him, and recommended me to fly ?" 
 
516 WTLHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 " Yes. He hoped that your wishes would be completely 
 satisfied when you had performed the character of Hamlet. 
 He maintained that you would never again tread the boards 
 of a theatre, though I asserted the contrary and my opinion 
 proved correct. We discussed the point that very evening, 
 upon the conclusion of the performance." " Then you have 
 seen me play ?" " O, certainly !" " And who performed 
 the Ghost ?" " I do not know precisely, but it was either 
 the Abbe or his twin brother, though I believe it was the 
 latter, as he is a little the taller of the two." " Tou seem to 
 have no secrets from each other !" " Friends may and ought 
 to have secrets from each other, but they should not be 
 secrets to each other." 
 
 " The mere remembrance of that perplexity perplexes me. 
 Explain to me the man to whom I owe so much, and of 
 whom, alas ! I have such reason to complain." 
 
 " We value him highly," observed Jarno, "and submit to 
 his authority, on account of the free and clear penetration, 
 with which he has been enabled by nature to comprehend 
 all the powers which dwell in man and are susceptible of 
 cultivation. Most men, even the most eminent, are limited 
 in their minds, each one prizes certain qualities in himself 
 or others, which alone he is willing to favour and to cultivate. 
 But the Abbe's course is very different ; he sympathizes with 
 every mental endowment, and he favours and encourages 
 them all. But I must again examine the roll. ' Mankind 
 is composed of all men, and all powers taken together make 
 up the world. These are often at strife, and seek to de- 
 stroy each other, but nature preserves and reproduces them. 
 From the merest animal attempts at labour, up to the high- 
 est exertion of mental talent ; from the faint cries and excla- 
 mations of the child, to the most finished periods of the 
 orator and poet ; from the first disputes of boys, to the vast 
 preparations by which countries are conquered and possessed ; 
 from the smallest favour and the most fleeting affection, to 
 the warmest passion and most earnest pledges of truth ; from 
 the simplest feeling of a sensible presence, to the faintest 
 perceptions and hopes of a distant spiritual future all these 
 things, and far more, lie in the organization of man, and 
 require to be cultivated, not, however, in one individual, 
 but in many. Every gift is important and must be developed. 
 When one person cultivates the beautiful alone, and ano- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 517 
 
 ther follows the useful, both together form but a single man. 
 The useful encourages itself, for the crowd produce it, and 
 none can dispense with it ; the beautiful needs encou- 
 ragement, for tew can represent it, and it is required by 
 many.' ' 
 
 " Pause for a moment !" cried "Wilhelm, "I have read all 
 that." " Only a few lines more," continued Jarno ; " for 
 here we have the Abbe to perfection. ' One power may con- 
 trol another, but one cannot cultivate another. In every 
 talent lies the force which is to perfect itself, and this is a 
 truth which few of those men understand who teach and 
 influence others.' " " Neither do I understand it," replied 
 AVilhelm. " This is one of the Abbe's favourite texts, and 
 let us therefore always thoroughly understand and perceive 
 what is within ourselves, what endowments of our own we 
 would labour to cultivate, but let us be just towards others, 
 as we ourselves deserve only to be valued as far as we can 
 value others." "O, perplex me no more with these fine 
 sentences ! They are a poor remedy for a wounded heart. 
 Rather tell me, with your cruel determination, what you 
 expect from me, and how you mean to sacrifice me." " I 
 promise you that you will yet be sorry for these suspicions. 
 It is your duty to seek and to prove, and it is ours to 
 assist you. Man cannot be happy until his own unrestrained 
 efforts have marked out his proper limits. But you must 
 not depend upon me, but upon the Abbe. Think not of 
 yourself, but of all that surrounds you. Learn, for exam- 
 ple, to comprehend Lothario's superiority ; how his compre- 
 hension and diligence are inseparably united, how he is always 
 progressing, how he advances himself, and carries others along 
 with him. In all situations, he bears a world with him ; 
 his presence ever animates and enkindles. See our good 
 physician on the other hand. He seems to be of the very 
 opposite nature. Whilst Lothario is working upon the 
 general whole, and at a remote distance, the latter surveys 
 with a clear eye the things which are nearest to him. He 
 rather furnishes the means of activity to others, than prac- 
 tises that virtue himself. In his conduct, he resembles a 
 great economist, he works in silence, whilst he provides for 
 all, within their own particular sphere. His talent 
 employed in perpetually gathering and expending, in re- 
 
518 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 ceiving and dispensing in detail. Lothario would perhaps 
 destroy in a day the labours of the Physician for a whole 
 year, but the latter might in one single moment impart 
 to others the power of restoring a hundred-fold what he 
 had destroyed." " It is a melancholy employment," said 
 "Wilhelm, " to contemplate the pure advantages of others, 
 when we are at discord with ourselves. Such reflections may 
 suit the peaceful man, but not one who is agitated by passion 
 and uncertainty.'* " Peaceful and wise contemplations, 1 ' 
 answered Jarno, " are never injurious, and whilst we accus- 
 tom ourselves to reflect upon the advantages of others, our 
 own qualities insensibly take their place, and every false ac- 
 tivity to which our fancy might lead us is then willingly dis- 
 continued. If possible, relieve your mind of all suspicion 
 and anxiety ! Here comes the Abbe. Let your conduct be 
 friendly towards him, until you know better how deeply you 
 are indebted to him. The rogue ! There he goes between 
 Natalia and Theresa. I could lay a wager that he is engaged 
 about some plot. He has a taste for playing the part of 
 Destiny, and often indulges a fancy for contriving marriages." 
 "Wilhelm, whose passionate and angry humours had not 
 been soothed by all the prudent and kind expressions of 
 Jarno, thought it extremely indelicate that his friend should 
 allude to such a topic at that time. He, however, 
 answered with a smile, in which there was some bitterness, 
 " I thought the taste for matchmaking had been left to those 
 who loved each other." 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE company once more assembled together, and our 
 friends were obliged to break oft' their conversation. Be- 
 fore long a courier was announced, who was commissioned to 
 give a letter into Lothario's hands. The man was introduced : 
 his appearance was bold and confident, and his livery was 
 rich and handsome. Wilhelm thought that in him he recog- 
 nized the same person whom he had, some time ago, sent to 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 519 
 
 inquire about Philina and the supposed Mariana, and who 
 had not since made his appearance. He was about to ques- 
 tion him, when Lothario, who had perused his letter, asked 
 him, in a serious and somewhat angry tone, " What is the 
 name of your master?" 
 
 u That is one of the questions," answered the courier 
 with gravity, " to which I am not instructed to give a reply. 
 I hope the letter will have told you whatever is necessary, 
 as I have no verbal message to deliver/' 
 
 "Well then," answered Lothario, with a smile, " since 
 your master has such confidence in me as to write in a jocu- 
 lar strain, say that he will be welcome. u He will make no 
 delay," replied the courier, as he retired with a low bow. 
 
 " Only think," said Lothario, " of the dull, stupid message. 
 My unknown correspondent writes thus : * As good humour 
 is the most agreeable of guests when he makes his appear- 
 ance, and always accompanies me as a travelling companion, 
 I am convinced that the visit which I intend to pay to your 
 Lordship, will not be taken ill, particularly as I hope' to be 
 well received by the whole of your illustrious family, and to 
 be allowed to depart with the same feeling. I am always 
 yours, and so forth, the Count of Snailfoot.' ' 
 
 " That must be a new family," said the Abbe. 
 
 "An assumed title," added Jarno. 
 
 " The mystery is easy to solve," said Natalia. " I will 
 wager a trifle that it is my brother Friedrich, who has pro- 
 jected paying us a visit ever since the death of his uncle." 
 
 "You have hit it, my fair and wise sister !" said a voice 
 from the nearest copse, and instantly a handsome, cheerful 
 youth stepped forward. Wilhelm could scarcely restrain an 
 expression of surprise. " What!" he said, " my fair-haired 
 friend to meet me here also !" Friedrich looked at Wil- 
 helm with astonishment, and cried, " In truth, I should have 
 been less astonished to find in the garden of my uncle, 
 the celebrated Pyramids of Egypt, or the tomb of king 
 Mausolus, which I believe no longer exists, than I am to 
 meet you here, my old friend, and unwearied benefactor. A 
 thousand times welcome to me !" 
 
 After he had welcomed and kissed every one in turn, IK 
 rushed into Wilhelm's arms, and cried, " You must all br 
 kind to this hero, who is also a general and a dramatic 
 
520 WILIIELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 philosopher. I must admit that when I first became 
 acquainted with him, I dressed his hair but indifferently, and 
 yet he afterwards saved me from a torrent of blows. He is 
 as generous as Scipio, and as munificent as Alexander, and 
 though he may be frequently in love, he never hates his 
 rivals. He does not heap coals of fire upon their heads, for 
 that in my opinion is a sorry service, which any one can 
 render, but when his friends have carried off his love, he 
 sends a kind and trusty servant in pursuit, that they may not 
 knock their feet against a stone." 
 
 He pursued this strain without ceasing, and no person could 
 prevail upon him to pause, even for an instant ; and as they 
 could not reply to him in the same style, he had the conversa- 
 tion wholly to himself. " You must not," he continued, " be 
 surprised at my acquaintance with sacred and profane writers, 
 you shall learn how I have acquired my information." They 
 all wished to know his history, and from what place he had 
 just arrived : but his store of proverbs, and his fund of old 
 stories, prevented him from entering into a connected expla- 
 nation. 
 
 Natalia observed to Theresa, " His cheerfulness makes me 
 sad. I would wager that he is not happy." 
 
 As, with the exception of a few jokes from Jarno, Fried- 
 rich's merriment was not reechoed by the company, he ob- 
 served at length, " I have no alternative but to be serious in 
 a serious family. And, as under such solemn circumstances, 
 the burden of my sins weighs heavily upon my soul, I will 
 make a general confession, by which, ladies and gentlemen, 
 you shall not be in the least enlightened. This worthy friend 
 here, who already knows some portion of my life and actions, 
 shall alone be made acquainted with the rest, more particu- 
 larly as he is the only person who can have any reason to 
 seek such information. Have you not," said he, addressing 
 himself to Wilhelm, " have you not sometimes wished to know 
 the where and the when, the who, the why, and the where- 
 fore ? and what progress I have made in the conjugation 
 of the Greek verb 0tXew, 0i\w, and the derivatives of that 
 very amiable part of speech." 
 
 He thereupon took Wilhelm by the arm, and led him away, 
 after he had embraced him with the tenderest affection. 
 
 As soon as Friedrich had reached Wilhehn's apartment, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 521 
 
 he saw a powder-knife lying upon the table, bearing the in- 
 scription "Think of me!" " You take good care of your 
 treasures," he observed, "why this was Philina's powder- 
 knife, she gave it to you upon that day when I curled your 
 locks for you, I hope you have never ceased to think of 
 that affectionate damsel. I cannot assure you that she has 
 not forgotten you : and if I had not long since obliterated 
 every particle of jealousy from my bosom, I could not now 
 behold you without envy." 
 
 "Do not speak any more of that creature," answered 
 Wilhelm. " I must confess, that for a long time I could not 
 banish the impression of her agreeable appearance, but that 
 was all." 
 
 " For shame !" cried Friedrich, " who can forget bis love 
 in this manner ? But, indeed, you were as thoroughly in 
 love, as a man could possibly be. No day ever passed over 
 that you did not make her a present ; and when a German 
 makes presents, there can be little doubt of his love. Nothing 
 remained for me at last, but to carry her off, and in this, the 
 little red officer at length succeeded." 
 
 " What ! were you then the officer whom we met at 
 Philina's, and with whom she set out upon her travels ?" 
 
 " The same, and whom you took for Mariana. We have 
 enjoyed many a laugh at your mistake." 
 
 "What cruelty," said Wilhelm, "to leave me in such 
 uncertainty !" 
 
 " And to take the courier into our service, whom you sent 
 in search of us !" added Friedrich. " But he is a capital 
 fellow, and we have never let him leave us since. And I 
 love Philina as desperately as ever. She has a sort of power 
 over me, so that I sometimes labour under a mythological 
 delusion, and fancy every day that I shall undergo some 
 strange transformation." 
 
 " Tell me," said Wilhelm, " where you have acquired your 
 stock of learning ? I observe with astonishment the strange 
 habit which you have acquired of making allusions to old 
 histories and fables." 
 
 " I have obtained all my learning," replied Friedrich, " in 
 the most agreeable manner possible. Philina and I live to- 
 gether still, we have rented from a farmer an old castle that 
 was once a knight's inheritance, and there we live as merrily 
 
522 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 as fairies. We found there a compendious, but very choice 
 collection of books, amongst which were a Bible in folio, 
 Gottfried's Chronicles, two volumes of the Theatrum Euro- 
 peum, the Acerra Philologica, the writings of Gryphius, and 
 several other books of less importance. When we were 
 wearied w T ith other amusements, we had recourse to reading, 
 but before long, we became even more weary than before. 
 At length, Philina suggested the rich idea of opening out 
 all our books, upon a large table, when we seated ourselves 
 before them, and read alternately detached passages from 
 whatever works we chose. It afforded us rare amusement ! 
 We fancied ourselves in refined society, where it is con- 
 sidered incorrect to dwell too long upon one topic, or to 
 discuss it thoroughly, or else we fancied ourselves in gay 
 society, where one will scarcely allow his neighbour to speak. 
 We amused ourselves in this manner regularly every day, 
 and by this means we became so learned, as to astonish even 
 ourselves. We soon found that there is nothing new 
 under the sun, as our store of learning bore reference to 
 every thing we had seen or heard of. We frequently varied 
 our mode of instruction, by several expedients. Sometimes 
 we read with tho assistance of an old hour-glass, which al- 
 lowed the sand to run down in a few minutes : whereupon 
 we turned it round instantly, and commenced a new book. 
 The sand had scarcely disappeared again, before we started to 
 another subject, and in this way we pursue our studies in a 
 regular academical manner, except that our hours are some- 
 what shorter, and our studies more varied," 
 
 " I can understand this species of folly," said Wilhelm, 
 " when so merry a pair of mortals meet together, but how 
 so inconstant a couple should have remained so long together, 
 I own is somewhat surprising. 
 
 " It is the effect of our good and bad fortune, 51 answered 
 Friedrich. " Philina is afraid to shew herself, she cannot 
 even bear to look upon herself, she expects shortly to 
 become a mother. Her figure is quite spoiled. A short 
 time ago, she looked at herself in the glass' Alas ! alas !' 
 she exclaimed, and turned her face away. ' Am I not a very 
 Madame Melina ! Shocking sight ! Do I not look deplor- 
 able ?' " 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 523 
 
 " I must confess," said Wilhelm, " that it does seem rather 
 laughable to think of you two as father and mother!" 
 
 "It is a foolish business," answered Friedrich, "that I 
 must, at last, be promoted to parental honours. But she 
 asserts it, and the time coincides. I must admit, however, 
 that I had my suspicions, when I thought of that visit which 
 she paid to you, after you had acted the character of Hamlet.' 1 
 
 "What visit ?" asked Wilhelm. 
 
 "Nay ! you cannot quite have slept off the recollection of 
 it," answered Friedrich. " The dear, sensitive spirit of that 
 night if you do not know it already, was Philina. The 
 story was a hard trial for me, but, if we could be contented 
 with such things, we should not love. Fatherhood, at all 
 events, depends upon conviction, I am convinced, therefore, 
 I am a father. Thus, you see that I can avail myself of my 
 logic at the proper time. And if the child does not die of 
 laughing the instant it is born, it may, perhaps, form a 
 useful or agreeable citizen of the world." 
 
 Whilst our friends were talking in this manner of their 
 merry adventures, the other members of the company had 
 engaged in serious conversation. Scarcely had Friedrich and 
 Wilhelm disappeared together, than the Abbe led the rest 
 of his companions unperceived into a garden-house, and as 
 soon as they had taken their seats, he addressed them, thus : 
 
 " We have already stated," he said, " in general terms, that 
 Theresa is not the daughter of her reputed mother, it is 
 necessary now that we should explain ourselves more clearly 
 upon this subject. Here is the account in detail, which I 
 propose to lay before you, and to prove in every particular. 
 
 " Frau von * * * * lived happily with her husband, during 
 the first years of her marriage, but it happened, unfortu- 
 nately, that the two children to which she gave birth were 
 still-born. The third infant survived, but the mother was 
 reduced to the point of death, and the physician declared 
 that she could not survive another accouchment. It was 
 necessary, therefore, to come to some decision, and they 
 determined, for pecuniary reasons, not to dissolve the nuptial 
 tie. Frau von * * * * sought, in the cultivation of her 
 mind, in her fondness for display, and in the pursuits of 
 vanity, a recompense for the maternal happiness of which 
 she was thus deprived. She observed, with great satis- 
 
524 WILHELM MEISTEK'S 
 
 faction, that her husband evinced a partiality for a young 
 lady who superintended his household, a person of engaging 
 appearance, and of sensible character. After a short time 
 she assisted in effecting an arrangement, in pursuance of 
 which the young maiden submitted to the wishes of Theresa's 
 father, who continued to fulfil her household duties, with 
 more attachment and devotion to her mistress, even than she 
 had exhibited before. 
 
 " In due course of time an infant was born, and upon this oc- 
 casion the same idea occurred to the married people, though 
 they were actuated by quite different motives. Herr von * * 
 * * wished that the child of his mistress should be considered 
 as his lawful offspring, and Frau von * * * * vexed that 
 through the indiscretion of her physician, her own infirmity 
 had been published in the neighbourhood, thought to coun- 
 teract it, by means of a supposititious child, and hoped by 
 this apparent compliance with her husband's wishes, to pre- 
 serve an influence at home, which she was otherwise in danger 
 of losing. She was of a more reserved disposition than her 
 husband, but she saw his purpose, and she contrived, without 
 inquiring, to ascertain his wishes. She made her own terms, 
 obtaining everything that she desired, and hence arose the 
 will, to which \vi> have alluded, in which the child was so 
 indifferently provided for. The old physician was at this 
 time dead. They applied, therefore, to a young man of 
 discretion, by whom he was succeeded, and who, having been 
 handsomely remunerated, thought he saw an opportunity 
 for establishing his own credit by remedying the unskilful- 
 ness and premature opinion of his departed colleague. The 
 true mother became a party to the deception, which was 
 successfully managed. Theresa was born, and immediately 
 handed over to the care of a step-mother, whilst her real 
 parent fell a victim to this plot, as she died, in consequence of 
 having ventured out too early, and left the father inconsolable. 
 
 " But Frau von ***** had completely succeeded in her 
 design. In the eyes of the world she was the mother of a 
 darling child, which she exhibited with much ostentation, and 
 she felt happy at finding herself delivered from a rival, whose 
 influence she beheld with jealous eyes, and whose future 
 power over her husband she had some reason to apprehend. 
 Her kindness to the infant was indescribable, and in confi- 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 525 
 
 dent moments she displayed so lively a sympathy for her 
 husband's loss, that he placed in her hands, not only his own 
 happiness, but that of his wife and child, and it was only a 
 short time before his death, through the interference of his 
 elder daughter, that he once more became master of his 
 household. Such was the secret, lovely Theresa, which your 
 lather, in his last illness, was anxious to impart to you, and 
 this is the history which I have wished circumstantially to 
 relate to you, at a moment, when, by a strange coincidence, 
 your intended husband happens to be absent. Here are 
 the papers which will clearly prove all that I have stated. 
 Tou will perceive, by perusing them, how long I have been 
 on the point of making this discovery, and how I have only 
 lately become acquainted with all the facts. I did not dare 
 to impart to my friend the possibility of his happiness, as it 
 would have been too distressing, if his hopes should be a 
 second time frustrated. You may understand Lydia's sus- 
 picions, but I confess that I never encouraged our friend's 
 attachment to her, from the moment when I expected his 
 union with Theresa." 
 
 No one offered a remark upon the termination of this 
 statement. After some days the ladies returned the papers, 
 and made no further allusion to the subject. 
 
 They soon found abundant means to provide occupation for 
 the party whilst they remained together : and the country 
 around them was so charming, that our friends took the 
 greatest pleasure in visiting it, either singly or in parties, 
 on horseback, in carriages, or as pedestrians. Jarno took 
 advantage of one of these excursions to open the affair to 
 Wilhelm, and laid all the papers before him, without seeming 
 to require that he should express any decision upon the 
 subject. 
 
 " In the strange situation in which I find myself placed," 
 said Wilhelm, "it is only necessary that I should repeat to 
 you, what I have already, in the presence of Natalia, pro- 
 misi'd with a conscientious heart. Lothario and his friend 
 may demand from me every species of self denial. I abandon 
 all my pretensions to Theresa, only furnish me with a proper 
 formal discharge. It requires no long reflection to (Uviue 
 me. I have long felt that Theresa is forced to make an 
 effort to retain even an appearance of the affection with 
 
526 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 whicb she used to welcome me. Her love is gone from me, 
 or rather I have never possessed it." 
 
 "It will be easier," replied Jarno, "to comprehend such 
 matters as these, gradually, in silence and by patience, than 
 to explain them by conversations which never fail to occasion 
 perplexity and embarrassment." 
 
 " I should rather have thought," answered Wilhelm, "that 
 this matter admits of the clearest and calmest decision. I 
 have often been rebuked for hesitation and uncertainty, but 
 why will you now, when I am resolved, commit towards me 
 the very fault of which I am accused ? Why will the world 
 take so much trouble in training us, in order that we may 
 the clearer observe their own deficiencies ? Let me enjoy 
 the delightful thought that I have escaped a mistaken 
 alliance, into which I should have entered with the purest 
 feelings in the world." 
 
 In spite of this request, some delays elapsed, and he heard 
 no more of the affair, nor did he perceive the smallest altera- 
 tion in the conduct of his friends. Their conversation was 
 always of the most general and indifferent nature. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 ONE day Natalia, Jarno, and "Wilhelm were sitting to- 
 gether, when the former observed, " You are thoughtful, 
 Jarno. I have remarked it for some time." 
 
 "It is true," replied the latter, " I see the end of some 
 important business before me, with which I have been for a 
 long time engaged, and which I am now obliged to bring to 
 a conclusion. You are already acquainted with it in some 
 measure, and I do not object to speak of it before our friend, 
 and he must himself decide whether he will engage in it or 
 not. You will soon see me no more, as I have an intention 
 of making a voyage to America." 
 
 "To America?" said Wilhelm with a smile, "I should 
 not have expected such an adventure from you, still less that 
 you would have chosen me for a companion." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 527 
 
 "When you have heard ine explain our plan," said Jarno, 
 " you will give it a better name, and, perhaps, be induced to 
 join in it. Listen to me. It does not need a very deep 
 knowledge of the world, to perceive that important changes 
 are about to occur, and that property is no where quite 
 secure." 
 
 "I have no great experience in worldly matters," observed 
 Wilhelm, " and I have not lately troubled myself much about 
 my own affairs. Perhaps it would have been better for me 
 if I had banished them from my mind still longer, for I must 
 say that an anxiety about such things renders me melan- 
 choly." 
 
 " Hear me out," said Jarno. " Anxiety becomes a 
 person in mature age, in order that youth may live for a 
 longer time free from care. Unfortunately an equality in 
 human aifairs can only be maintained by contrarieties. At 
 present nothing seems less advisable than to keep your 
 property in only one place, to trust your money to a single 
 spot, and it is difficult to manage it well when dispersed. 
 We have, therefore, thought of a plan. A society is about 
 to be established by the inhabitants of our old tower, which 
 is to extend to all parts of the world, and of which every 
 living being may become a member. We are to insure a 
 competent subsistence to each other, in the single event of 
 a revolution happening, which shall drive any of the members 
 from his possessions. I propose to visit America, to avail 
 myself of the good connections which our friend formed 
 during his residence there. The Abbe intends to go to 
 Eussia, and if you join us, you shall choose whether you will 
 accompany me, or remain in Germany to assist Lothario. 
 I suppose you will prefer the former, for a distant journey 
 cannot fail to be profitable to a young man." 
 
 Wilhelm replied after a moment's reflection. " The pro- 
 posal is worth considering, for before long I shall doubtless 
 think that the further I am away from this place the better. 
 I trust you will acquaint me more fully with your plan. It 
 arises, perhaps, from my ignorance of the world, but I cannot 
 help thinking that your proposal is attended with insuperable 
 difficulties." 
 
 "And these," continued Jarno, "have been for the most 
 part overcome, by the fact that the Society has hitherto con- 
 
528 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 sisted of a few honourable, discreet and determined persons, 
 possessing an united feeling, by which alone societies can 
 hope to prosper." 
 
 Friedrich, who had hitherto been a mere listener, 
 immediately replied, " if you give me proper encouragement, 
 perhaps I may be tempted to join you." 
 
 Jarno shook his head. 
 
 " Well, what objections have you to offer ?" continued 
 Friedrich. " In a new colony young people will be required, 
 and I can provide them for you, and merry colonists they 
 will prove I promise you. And in addition, I know a good 
 kind maiden, who does not find herself quite at home here 
 I mean the sweet, charming Lydia. What is she to do with 
 all her grief and sorrow, unless she can drown it in the 
 depths of the sea, and find some honest fellow to take her 
 by the hand. I should have thought that you, my kind 
 friends, who have always taken so much interest in consoling 
 the distressed, would each have taken his girl under his arm 
 and accompanied Jarno." 
 
 This proposal displeased Wilhelm. He answered, how- 
 ever, with apparent composure. " I am not certain that she is 
 disengaged, and as I have always been especially unfortunate, 
 in courtship, I should scarcely like to make the attempt." 
 
 Natalia, turning to her brother, observed, " Friedrich, 
 though you are accustomed to act with so much levity, your 
 sentiments may not prove quite agreeable to others. Our 
 friend deserves a heart that shall be all his own, unin- 
 fluenced by foreign recollections, and it is only with a pure 
 and reasonable being, like Theresa, that he could venture 
 upon such a risk." 
 
 "Bisk!" exclaimed Friedrich. "In love it is all risk. 
 In the bower, or at the altar, in an embrace, or bound by a 
 golden ring, by the chirping of a cricket or at the sound ot 
 trumpets and drums, it is all risk : chance does it all." 
 
 "I have always observed," said Natalia, "that our prin- 
 ciples are a mere supplement to our mode of existence. We 
 delight to clothe our errors in the garb of appropriate laws. 
 Observe the path by which your mistress will lead you, now 
 that she has attracted you to her, and obtained such an in- 
 fluence over your mind." 
 
 " She is in a very pretty path herself at present," said 
 
APPUENTICESHIP. 529 
 
 Friedrieh, " she is on the road to sanctity. It is rather a 
 by-way, to be sure, but it is all the pleasanter and safer on 
 that account. Many a sinner has already travelled that 
 road. But, my dear sister, as this is all a question of love, 
 why should you not take a part in it ? In my opinion you 
 will never marry, till a wife is wanted somewhere, and then 
 you will give yourself away, with your accustomed generosity, 
 to form the supplement to some peculiar mode of existence. 
 Let us, therefore, make a bargain with Jarno, and select our 
 travelling companions." 
 
 " Your proposals come too late," observed Jarno, " Ljdia 
 is already provided for." 
 
 " How is that managed ?" asked Friedrich. 
 
 " I have myself offered her my hand," said Jarno. 
 
 " Old gentleman," said Friedrich, " you have in that case 
 accomplished a feat, to which if we regard it as a substantive, 
 several adjectives might be appended, and for which, if we 
 look upon it as a subject, various predicates might be 
 found." 
 
 " I must confess candidly, that it is a dangerous step to 
 marry a maiden at the very moment when her love for 
 another person is driving her to despair." 
 
 " A step, however, which I have ventured to take," said 
 Jarno, " and subject to certain conditions, she is mine. 
 Depend upon it, the world contains no more valuable trea- 
 sure than a heart susceptible of love and passion. Whether 
 that heart has ever loved whether it loves at present, are 
 questions of small importance. The warmth with which 
 another is loved is almost more charming to me than that with 
 which I should be loved myself. I see the strength, the 
 power of an affectionate heart, and my own self-love does 
 not disturb the pure vision." 
 
 " Have you spoken to Lydia lately ?" asked Natalia. 
 
 Jarno nodded with a smile. Natalia shook her head as 
 she rose from her seat, and said, " I do not well know what 
 to make of you, but at all events you shall not deceive me." 
 
 He was about to retire, when the Abbe made his appear- 
 ance with a letter in his hand, and said to her, " Kemain 
 for a moment. I have a proposal to make, with respect to 
 which 1 shall be glad of your advice. The Marquis, our 
 deceased uncle's friend, whom we have so long expected, 
 
 2 M 
 
530 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 will be here in a few days. He has written to say that his 
 knowledge of the German language is not so perfect as he 
 believed, he requires a companion, who shall be master of 
 that and of other languages ; and as he wishes rather for 
 literary than for political society, such an interpreter seems 
 indispensable to him. I know no person more adapted for 
 his purpose than our young friend here. He is conversant 
 with the language, and possesses a fund of general informa- 
 tion, and it will be a great advantage for him to travel 
 through Germany in such excellent company, and in the 
 enjoyment of so many advantages. He who has not visited 
 his native land has no standard by which he can judge of 
 other countries. What is your opinion, my friend ? and 
 what is yours, Natalia ?" 
 
 No one knew what objection to offer to the proposal. 
 Jarno seemed to think, that his project of making a voyage 
 to America, would not prove any obstacle, as he had no in- 
 tention of setting out immediately. Natalia and Frieclrk-h 
 quoted many proverbs about the advantage of travelling. 
 
 Wilhelm could scarcely conceal his anger at this new- 
 proposition. He saw plainly that a plan had been concerted 
 for getting rid of him, and the worst feature in the whole 
 case was, that it was done too openly and without any 
 regard to his feelings. The suspicions which Lydia had 
 rv\\nkened in his bosom, and every thing of which he had 
 personal experience, now vividly occurred to him, and even 
 the natural manner in which Jarno had unfolded his project, 
 seemed to him nothing better than a cunning artifice. 
 
 He reflected for a moment, and answered, "This proposal 
 will at all events require mature deliberation." 
 
 " Perhaps a prompt decision may be necessary," replied 
 the Abbe. 
 
 " I am not quite prepared for that," observed "Wilhelm. 
 " But at all events we may await the arrival of the Marquis, 
 and then see whether we shall suit each other. One con- 
 dition however I must require, that I shall be at liberty to 
 take Felix with me, and that he shall accompany me every- 
 where." 
 
 " Such a condition will scarcely be acceded to," replied 
 the Abbe. 
 
 "And I do not understand," cried Wilhelm, "why I 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 531 
 
 should allow acy person to prescribe conditions to me, or 
 why I should seek to be the companion of an Italian, if I 
 wish to visit my native land." 
 
 " Because a young man," replied the Abbe, with a certain 
 look of earnestness, " always requires to form connections." 
 
 Wilhelm, who perceived that he would not be able to 
 preserve his self-command much longer, as his anger hail 
 only been calmed by Natalia's presence, replied rather 
 hastily, " Only grant me a little more time for reflection, 
 and I dare say it will soon appear whether I require to form 
 connections, or whether, on the contrary, I am not impelled 
 by heart and head to burst the many bonds which threaten 
 to keep me in endless and wretched thraldom." 
 
 Thus he spoke with a deeply excited mind. But one 
 glance at Natalia restored his composure, for in that pas- 
 sionate moment her beauty and her worth impressed them- 
 selves more etrongly upon his mind than ever. 
 
 "Yes," he said, when he found himself once more alone, 
 " confess that you love her, and that you feel now what it is 
 for a man to love with all his soul. It was thus that I once 
 loved Mariana, and so wholly lost myself. I loved Philina, 
 though I could not help despising her. Aurelia I respected, 
 but could never love. I reverenced Theresa, and my fatherlv 
 affection for her assumed the form of passion, and now when 
 all the feelings which can render a mortal happy meet 
 within my heart, I am compelled to fly ! Alas ! why imisi 
 an unconquerable wish to possess her be inseparable from 
 these feelings and emotions ? and why, without such a pos- 
 session, should all other happiness be absolutely destroyed ? 
 Can I eyer enjoy the sun, the world, or any other happiness ? 
 Shall I not for ever say, * Natalia is not there !' and yet 
 Natalia will never be absent from me. If I shut my eyes, 
 I shall behold her form, and when I open them, she will be 
 seen in every thing, like that appearance which a dazzling 
 object leaves behind. Was not my mind once filled with 
 the swiftly passing figure of the Amazon ? And when I 
 saw her she was a stranger to rne. And now when I know 
 her, when I have been so long near to her, and she has M> 
 completely \von my sympathy, her qualities are as derplv 
 impressed upon my heart, as her image formerly was upon 
 my fancy. It is painful to be for ever seeking, but ^till 
 
532 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 more painful when we have found, to be compelled to leave. 
 What shall I now seek further in the world ? "What town, 
 what country contains a treasure equal to this, and shall I 
 for ever travel in order to find something that is inferior ? 
 Is life then nothing but a race-course, where we are com- 
 pelled to turn as soon as we have reached the farthest end ? 
 And is the good, the excellent, nothing but an immoveable 
 goal, from which we are driven back as soon as we seem to 
 have attained it ? Those who seek mere earthly treasures, 
 may find them in their proper climates, or may buy them at 
 the fair ! 
 
 " Come, my dearest boy !" he exclaimed to Felix, who 
 came running to him at that moment, " come, and be every 
 thing to me ! You were given to me to supply the loss of 
 your beloved mother, you must now replace the second 
 mother, whom I had intended for you, and you have a greater 
 deficiency to supply. Let my heart and soul be filled with 
 your beauty, your loveliness, your talents, and your capa- 
 bilities." 
 
 The child was playing with a new toy. The father tried 
 to improve it for him, but at that very instant Felix lost his 
 whole interest in it. "Ah!" cried Wilhelm, "you are a 
 genuine child of earth ! come then, my son, my brother, let 
 us henceforth wander together through the world, without 
 an object, as best we may." 
 
 His determination to depart, to take his child along with 
 him, and to search for amusement in the world, was now 
 firmly adopted. He accordingly wrote to Werner for a 
 supply of money and for some letters of credit, and sent 
 off Friedrich's courier, with the strictest orders to return as 
 soon as possible. Although he was highly incensed against 
 his other friends, his affection for Natalia continued un- 
 diminished. He confided to her his intention ; she took it 
 for granted that he would put it in execution, and although 
 her apparent indifference grieved him more than a little, yet 
 the kindness of her manner and her presence rendered him 
 calm. She advised him to visit several cities, where he 
 might become acquainted with her friends. The courier 
 soon returned, and brought the letters which Wilhelm had 
 required, and Werner expressed his dissatisfaction at th?.s 
 sudden w r him. " I must defer my hopes," he wrote, u of 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 533 
 
 your returning prudence. But whither are you all depart- 
 ing ? and what is become of the lady whose assistance I 
 have been expecting about the arrangement of your affairs : 
 And your other friends have disappeared. The entire 
 business is thrown upon your lawyer and myself. It is for- 
 tunate that he is as good a jurist as I am a financier, and 
 that we are both men of business. Farewell ! We must 
 forgive your errors, as otherwise our situation in this neigh- 
 bourhood would not have been so favourable." 
 
 So far as related to his outward circumstances, Wilhelm 
 might be considered to have taken his departure, but there 
 were two circumstances which gave him some uneasiness. 
 They would not on any account allow him to visit Mignon's 
 remains until the funeral, which the Abbe intended to cele- 
 brate, and the preparations for that ceremony were not yet 
 complete. Moreover, the physician had been called away 
 by a singular letter which he had received from the country 
 clergyman. It was in reference to the Harper, of whose 
 fate Wilhelm was anxious to procure some farther informa- 
 tion. 
 
 In this state of perplexity he could rest neither by day 
 nor by night. His mind and body were alike disturbed. 
 When all others were asleep, he roamed restlessly through 
 the house. The presence of the well-known works of art 
 attracted and repelled him. He could neither retain nor 
 abandon the objects by which he was surrounded, every 
 thing awakened his recollections of the past, he surveyed 
 the whole circle of his existence which lay in fragments 
 before him, and seemed as if they could never be united. 
 These works of art which his father had sold, seemed as an 
 omen that he would never acquire a peaceable and firm pos- 
 session of anything valuable in life, but that he was doomed 
 to be deprived of his acquisitions either by his own fault or 
 that of others. He became so completely lost in these 
 strange and melancholy contemplations, that he seemed to 
 himself like a spirit, and even when he felt and handled ma- 
 terial objects, he could scarcely bring himself to belii'vr 
 that he really lived and moved. 
 
 Nothing but the intense grief which he felt at being 
 compelled by frivolous but irresistible causes, to leave tin- 
 object which he had found, after so much deep anxiety, and 
 
534 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 the tears which he was compelled to shed, restored him to 
 the consciousness of his existence. In vain did he call to 
 mind how happy he was in other respects. " All is nothing 
 now," he said, " when the one thing fails which possesses 
 any real value !" 
 
 The Abbe announced to the company the arrival of the 
 Marquis. " It seems," he said, addressing himself to Wil- 
 helm, " that you are resolved to leave us, accompanied by 
 your child. I could wish, however, that you had first be- 
 come acquainted with this nobleman, who may prove of the 
 greatest advantage to you, if you should meet him upon 
 your travels." The Marquis entered. He was a person not 
 far advanced in years, with a handsome, pleasing, Lombard 
 figure. When a youth, he had become known to Lothario's 
 uncle, who was in the army, and they had subsequently met 
 in the transaction of public business. They had travelled 
 through the greater part of Italy together, and the various 
 objects of art by which the Marquis was now surrounded, 
 had been purchased or procured in his presence, under 
 various happy circumstances, which he still remembered. 
 
 The Italians possess a much higher idea of the dignity of 
 art than any other nation. Every individual of that coun- 
 try, when he would engage in any employment, adopts the 
 title of artist, master, or professor, thus admitting that he 
 does not consider it sufficient to claim a secondary excel- 
 lency, or to acquire a mere practical dexterity, and maintain- 
 ing that every artist should acquire the habit of endeavouring 
 to establish sound principles, and understand his reasons 
 for adopting his own particular course. 
 
 The stranger was moved at beholding these productions 
 now that their owner was no more, and he felt delighted to 
 perceive that the spirit of his friend survived in the persons 
 by whom he was surrounded. They examined the several 
 works, and found a great satisfaction in being able so well 
 to understand each other. The Marquis and the Abbe 
 conversed together. Natalia, who felt herself once more in 
 the presence of her uncle, entered fully into their opinions 
 and criticisms, which Wilhelm however was obliged to 
 translate into .dramatic language in order to understand. 
 It was found necessary upon these occasions to check the 
 frivolity of Friedrich. Jarno was seldom present. 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 535 
 
 When it was observed, that in these times, superior works 
 of art were very seldom produced, the Marquis said, " It is 
 not easy to explain how much the artist must owe to cir- 
 cumstances, and how endless are the demands which the 
 greatest genius and the most com man ding talent must exact 
 from themselves ; in addition to this, the diligence which is 
 required for the cultivation of art, is unspeakable. If there- 
 fore the artist is not highly favoured by circumstances, if 
 he observes that the world can be very easily satisfied, and 
 requires nothing more than a light, pleasing, transitory 
 show, it would be surprising if indolence and self-love did 
 not impede his progress, and induce him to exchange works 
 of fashion for gold and praise, rather than follow the correct 
 path, which would only lead him to a painful martyrdom. 
 Hence the artists of the present age constantly raise expec- 
 tations which they never realize. They seek to charm, but 
 they never satisfy, every thing is merely indicated, and 
 nowhere do we find foundation or perfection. It is only 
 necessary to linger for a short time in a gallery and ob- 
 serve what works of art attract the crowd, what things 
 are praised and what are censured, to prove how little cause 
 we have to be satisfied with the present, or to hope for the 
 future/' 
 
 " Yes," replied the Abbe, " and in this manner, artists 
 and critics mutually educate each other. The latter seek 
 nothing more than a general vague enjoyment ; a work of 
 art, in their eyes, resembles a work of nature, and men 
 believe, for the most part, that the organs by which such 
 objects can be enjoyed, resemble the tongue and the palate, 
 and need no cultivation, and they criticize a work of art as 
 they would an article of food. They do not comprehend 
 the different species of cultivation which is necessary to ele- 
 vate them to a true enjoyment of art, the most difficult part 
 of which consists, perhaps, in that sort of separation which 
 a man who would become perfect must accomplish in him- 
 self, and for this reason there are so many persons imper- 
 fectly cultivated, who think themselves nevertheless fully 
 competent to pronounce an opinion upon the general 
 whole." 
 
 " I have not quite understood your meaning/* said Jarno, 
 who entered at that moment. 
 
536 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 " It is not easy," replied the Abbe, " to explain one's 
 meaning fully in so short a time. But I may observe this 
 much : whenever an individual lays claim to manifold activity 
 or manifold enjoyments, he should possess the power of 
 rendering his manifold organs independent of each other. 
 He who will accomplish or enjoy every thing in his full 
 nature, he who will connect everything without himself in 
 such a species of enjoyment, must waste his time in perpetual 
 unsuccessful efforts. How easy it appears, and yet it is 
 extremely difficult, to admire a noble disposition, or a beau- 
 tiful painting, in and for itself alone, to hear sweet music for 
 the music's sake, to applaud the actor in the actor, and to 
 feel pleasure in the sight of a building, on account of its 
 harmony and durability. For the most part men deal with 
 finished works of art as if they were soft clay. According 
 to their fancies, notions and caprices, the polished marble 
 must be again re-modelled, the firm-built edifice contracted 
 or expanded, a picture must teach, a play instruct, and 
 every thing accomplish all. But this arises from the cir- 
 cumstance that most men are unformed, that they cannot 
 give themselves or their beings any proper shape, and there- 
 fore they would deprive other objects of their form, that 
 every thing may be as loose and uncompact as they are. In 
 fine they reduce every thing to what they call effect, main- 
 taining that everything is relative, which in truth will be 
 the case eventually, with the exception, perhaps, of their 
 own folly and want of taste, which are likely to remain as 
 positive as possible." 
 
 " I understand you," said Jarno, " or rather I perceive 
 that your observations completely resemble the principles 
 to which you have always attached so much importance. 
 But I cannot deal so severely with mankind. I know many, 
 who in the presence of the great works of art and nature, 
 remember their own poor insufficiency, whose morality 
 and conscience accompany them to the opera, who do 
 not forget their loves and hatred when they behold a 
 colonnade. They diminish the effect of the best and greatest 
 things which can be presented to them, that they may in 
 some measure become capable of union with their own 
 wretched nature." 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 537 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IN the evening, the Abbe invited them to the funeral of 
 Mignon. The company assembled in the Hall of the Past, 
 and found it illuminated and decorated in the most magnifi- 
 cent manner. The walls weije completely covered with 
 azure tapestry, so that the friezes and cornices alone were 
 visible. Four large wax lights were burning in the four 
 candelabra which stood in the corners, and four smaller 
 ones were placed near the sarcophagus, in the middle of the 
 apartment. Near the latter, stood four boys attired in 
 azure and silver, holding in their hands broad fans of ostrich 
 feathers, which they waved above a figure that rested upon 
 the sarcophagus. The company took their seats, and two 
 invisible choruses commenced in a low, soft recitative, to 
 ask : " Whom do you bring to our silent company?" The 
 four children responded with sweet voices : " A weary com- 
 panion we bring to you, let her rest among you, till the 
 song of her heavenly sisters shall again awaken her. 1 ' 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Thou first of youth within our circle, we welcome thee ! 
 We welcome thee with sadness. Let no youth, no maiden 
 follow thee ! Let age alone, consenting and composed, ap- 
 proach the silent hall, and may this dear, dear child, repose 
 in the solemn company. 
 
 Boys. 
 
 Alas ! how unwillingly we have brought thee hither ! 
 Alas ! thou shalt remain here ! Let us also remain, let 
 us weep, let us weep over thy bier ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Behold the powerful wings ! behold the pure white robe ! 
 How shines the golden band upon her head ! See how 
 beautiful is her dignified repose ! 
 
 Soys. 
 Alas! her wings raise her not ! in the light pastime her robe 
 
538 WILHELM MEISTEU'S 
 
 flutters no more. When we crowned her head with roses, 
 she looked upon us with kind and friendly eyes. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Look forward with the eyes of the spirit ! Let imagina- 
 tion awake, which bears Life the fairest and the highest 
 to a habitation beyond the stars ! 
 
 Soys. 
 
 But alas ! we shall seek her here in vain! In the garden 
 she wanders no more, nor culls the flowers of the meadow. 
 Let us weep : we leave her here. Let us weep aud remain 
 with her ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Children, return to life. Let the pure air which plays 
 above the rushing water, dry your tears ? Fly the night ! 
 Day and happiness and continuance are the lot of the living. 
 
 Soys. 
 
 Eise, we return again to life. Let the day yield us labour 
 and pleasure, till the evening brings us repose, and nightly 
 sleep refreshes us. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Children ! Hasten into life ! In the pure robe of 
 beauty, may Love meet you with heavenly countenance and 
 the garland of immortality ! 
 
 The children were already at a distance, the Abbe rose 
 from his seat and retired behind the bier. " It was the wish," 
 he said, " of the man who prepared this silent abode, that 
 each new tenant should be welcomed with solemnity. After 
 him, the builder of this dwelling, the founder of this estab- 
 lishment, we have brought hither a young stranger, and thus 
 this small space has already received two very different 
 victims of the stern, arbitrary and inexorable Goddess of 
 Death. We enter into life in conformity with appointed 
 laws. Our days are numbered which are to ripen us 
 for the enjoyment of the Light, but for the duration of life 
 there is no law. The weakest thread of life will extend to an 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 539 
 
 unexpected length, and the strongest is suddenly cut by the 
 scissors of Fate, who seems to take delight in contradictions. 
 Of the child whom we inter here, we have but little to say. 
 It is a mystery to us, whence she came, her parents we know 
 not, and we can only guess at the number of her years. Her 
 deep and inpenetrable heart scarcely allowed us to conjecture 
 its emotions, and nothing therein was plain and evident, 
 MWB her affection for the man, who had rescued her from 
 the hands of a barbarian. This tender attachment, this 
 lively gratitude, seemed to be the flame which consumed 
 the oil of her life. The skill of the physician could not 
 prolong her fair existence, the most anxious friendship could 
 not detain her departing spirit, it employed its whole 
 resources to preserve her body and snatch it from decay. A 
 preserving balsam has been infused into her veins, and has 
 coloured her too early faded cheeks with the rosy hue of 
 litr. Come near, my friends, and behold this miracle of art 
 and affection !" 
 
 He raised the veil : the child was reposing in the most grace- 
 ful posture, and lay in its angel attire, as if asleep. They all 
 <lre\v near, and admired the wonderful appearance of life. 
 AVilhelm alone retained his seat, he could not overcome his 
 feelings. He dared not think upon what he felt ; and every 
 thought filled him with anguish. 
 
 The address had been delivered in the French language, 
 on account of the Marquis. The latter advanced with the 
 others, and surveyed the body with attention. The Abbe 
 continued. " This affectionate heart, which has always been 
 so closed against mankind, has ever turned towards God 
 with a holy confidence. Humility, and even a love of self- 
 abasement, seemed to be her natural disposition. She was 
 zealously attached to the Catholic religion, in which she had 
 been born and educated. She frequently expressed her wish 
 to be interred in holy ground, and in conformity with the 
 customs of the Church ; we have consecrated this marble- 
 coffin, and the little earth which is contained within the 
 pillow, on w r hich her head reposes. With what ardour did 
 she, in the last moments, kiss the image of the Crucified, 
 which is beautifully figured on her tender arm, with ninny 
 hundred punctures !" Whilst he said this, he uncovered her 
 right arm, and a Crucifix, ornamented with a multitude of 
 
540 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 letters and signs, appeared in blue colours upon her fair 
 white skin. 
 
 The Marquis looked at it with eager astonishment. " O 
 God ! my poor child !" he exclaimed as he rose, and extended 
 his hands towards heaven. " Poor child ! unhappy niece ! 
 Do I find thee once more ? What painful joy do I experience 
 to see thee again, after our long despair, to recover thy dear 
 body, which we believed had become a prey to the monsters 
 of the deep to find thee again, dead it is true, but un decayed. 
 I attend thy funeral obsequies which are so nobly celebrated, 
 and are made splendid by the persons who accompany them 
 to thy last resting-place. And when I am able to express 
 rny thanks," he said with faltering voice, " I will evince my 
 gratitude to you." 
 
 His tears prevented him from speaking further. The 
 Abbe pressed a spring, whereupon the body sank slowly into 
 the marble coffin. 
 
 Four youths dressed in the same manner as the boys had 
 been, now advanced from behind the tapestry, and having 
 placed the heavy, but beautiful ornamented cover upon the 
 coffin, they commenced the following hymn 
 
 The Youths. 
 
 Securely is the treasure now preserved the beautiful 
 image of the Past ! Here in the marble it rests free from 
 decay, and it lives also in your hearts with active life. Go 
 back, go back into life ; and take holy Earnestness along 
 with you, for holy Earnestness alone makes life eternity. 
 
 The invisible Chorus took part in the last strophe, but 
 none of the company heard the consoling words : each 
 was too busy with his own emotions, and with the late 
 wonderful discovery. The Abbe and Natalia led the Marquis 
 forth, whilst Theresa and Lothario conducted Wilhelm from 
 the scene ; and before the echoes of the hymn had com- 
 pletely died away, the pain, the reflections, the thoughts and 
 curiosity which they had experienced, returned in full force, 
 and held complete possession of their minds. 
 
APPBENTTCESHIP. 541 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THE Marquis avoided all allusion to the subject, but he 
 held long and secret communications with the Abbe. He 
 sought consolation in music, when the company were assem- 
 bled together, and they willingly acceded to his wishes as 
 they were glad to escape the pain of entering into conversa- 
 tion with him. He lived thus for some time, till they ob- 
 served that he was making preparations for a journey. He 
 said one day to Wilhelm, " I shall not disturb the remains 
 of the dear child, let her rest in the place where she has 
 loved and suffered ; but her friends must promise to visit me 
 in her own country, in the spot where the poor creature was 
 born and educated : they must see the pillars and statues, 
 of which she so long retained a dear remembrance. 
 
 " I will take them to the little bays, where she loved to 
 gather pebbles. You must not withdraw yourself, my dear 
 young friend, from the gratitude of a family that is so deeply 
 indebted to you. To-morrow I shall take my departure. I 
 have confided her whole history to the Abbe, he will repeat 
 it to you. He could pardon me, when grief interrupted my 
 narrative, and as a stranger, he will be able to give more 
 connection to the events which I detailed. If, as the Abbe 
 proposed, you will consent to accompany me upon my tour 
 through Germany, you shall be cordially welcome. You 
 need not leave your child behind, any trifling inconvenience 
 which he may occasion, will forcibly recall the protection 
 which my poor niece received from you." 
 
 The same evening they were surprised by the arrival of the 
 Countess. Upon her entrance, Wilhelm trembled in every 
 limb : she herself remained near to her sister, who handed her 
 a chair. How simple was her dress, and how altered was her 
 form ! Wilhelm scarcely ventured to look at her, she saluted 
 him in a friendly manner, but the general ^ature of her ex- 
 pressions could not conceal her sentiments and feelings. The 
 Marquis had retired at an early hour, and the company felt 
 no inclination to separate. The Abbe now produced a 
 manuscript, observing " I have written down the singular 
 history which has been confided to me. We should not 
 spare pen and ink, when we find it useful to make special 
 
542 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 memorandums of remarkable events. The Countess, having 
 been informed of the particular subject of the narrative, the 
 Abbe commenced. 
 
 " With all my experience of the world, I have always con- 
 sidered, that my father was one of the most extraordinary 
 of men. His character was noble and upright, his ideas en- 
 larged, I may even say great, he was severe towards himself. 
 In all his projects he pursued a strict order, and in all his 
 plans an interrupted perseverance. In one point of view lie 
 was a person, with whom it was easy to transact business ; 
 yet, in consequence of his peculiar qualities, he was not happy 
 in the world, as he required that the state, as well as his 
 neighbours, children and dependants, should strictly observe 
 the rules which he had imposed upon himself. The modera- 
 tion of his demands became exorbitant from their rigour, 
 and he was a stranger to enjoyment, because nothing ever 
 succeeded according to his precise plan. At the moment 
 when he was building a palace, laying out a garden, or pur- 
 chasing a large and beautiful estate, I have seen him a prey 
 to the conviction, that fate had condemned him to incessant 
 privations and sufferings. His outward deportment was 
 remarkable for its dignity, and even, when he jested, he 
 evinced the greatness of his understanding. He could endure 
 censure, and I never knew him to be irritated, except upon 
 one occasion, when he learnt that one of his undertakings 
 had been spoken of as ridiculous. In this same spirit he 
 proposed to settle his children and his fortune. My elder 
 brother had been educated as a person who expected a rich 
 inheritance. I was intended for the Church, and the 
 youngest of our family was to be a soldier. I was lively in 
 disposition, ardent, active, (fuick, and skilled in all bodily 
 exercises. My youngest brother seemed more disposed to lead 
 a life of luxurious quiet, and was devoted to study, to the arts 
 of music and poetry. It was only after the hardest struggles, 
 and the fullest conviction of the impossibility of his project, 
 that my father reluctantly consented that we should exchange 
 our vocations, and though we were both content, he was 
 dissatisfied, and maintained that no good could result from 
 our arrangement. The older he grew, the more did he 
 become detached from society. At last he lived almost 
 wholly alone. His only companions were an old friend, who 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 543 
 
 bad served in the German army, and had lost his wife during 
 one of his campaigns, and a little daughter of the latter, 
 about ten years of age. This person had purchased a pro- 
 perty in our neighbourhood, and he was accustomed to visit 
 my father every week, on particular days, and at particular 
 hours, on which occasions he w r as generally accompanied by 
 his child. He never contradicted my father, who at length 
 became quite attached to him, and esteemed him as his only 
 endurable companion. After my parent's decease, we found 
 that the old gentleman had not paid his visits for nothing, and 
 that he was well provided for by my father's will. He en- 
 larged his estates, and laid aside a handsome provision for 
 his daughter. The girl grew up well, she was extremely 
 beautiful, and my eldest brother frequently suggested in joke 
 that I ought to marry her. 
 
 " In the mean time, our brother Augustine had spent his 
 years in a convent, in the strangest state of mind. He 
 abandoned himself wholly to religious enthusiasm, to certain 
 emotions half spiritual, and half physical, which, for a time, 
 exalted him to the third heaven, and then cast him into an 
 abyss of dejection and misery. During my father's life- time, 
 we could have effected no change in his condition, as what 
 could we have desired or proposed ? But after my father's 
 death, he visited us frequently, and his state, which at first 
 distressed us, at length became more tolerable, for his good 
 sense had obtained the victory. But, in proportion as his 
 recovery rendered him content, the more strongly did he 
 urge us to procure for him a release from his vows, and he 
 gave us to understand, that his thoughts were turned upon 
 our neighbour Sperata. 
 
 " My elder brother had suffered too much from the severity 
 of our father, to remain unmoved at the condition of Au- 
 gustine. We spoke to our family confessor, a worthy old man, 
 and we mentioned to him the double purpose of our brother, 
 and implored him to take an interest ii^ his case. He 
 hesitated, contrary to his usual custom, and when, at length, 
 Augustine became urgent, and we pressed the clergyman 
 more closely, he was compelled to inform us of the strange 
 mystery. 
 
 " Sperata was our sister, the child of our father and 
 mother. The latter had become pregnant when she was 
 
544 TVILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 advanced in years, and as a similar circumstance had, some 
 short time before, occasioned much jesting in the neigh- 
 bourhood, my father, to escape derision, had determined to 
 hide this somewhat late but lawful fruit of love, with as 
 much care as that with which the accidental fruits of an 
 early affection are concealed. Our mother was therefore 
 confined in secret, the child was taken to the country, and 
 the old friend of our family whom we have mentioned, and 
 who, with the exception of the confessor, was the only 
 person acquainted with the circumstance, was easily per- 
 suaded to receive the infant as his daughter. The confessor 
 was authorized, in case of extremity, to divulge the secret. 
 The reputed father having died, Sperata was brought up 
 under the superintendence of an old lady ; we were 
 aware that our brother had been attracted to her residence, 
 by his love of music, and when he once more insisted that 
 we should procure his release from his religious vows, it 
 became necessary that we should inform him without delay 
 of the dangerous precipice upon which he stood. 
 
 " He looked at us with a wild, contemptuous glance. 
 ' Keep your idle tales for children and credulous fools !' 
 he cried, ' you shall never tear Sperata from my heart, she 
 is mine. Deny your frightful story, which can only render 
 me vainly but irrecoverably wretched. Sperata is not my 
 sister, she is my wife ! He told us how the heavenly 
 maiden had led him to the enjoyment of true existence 
 from a state of unnatural separation from mankind, how 
 their spirits accorded like their voices, how he had blessed 
 all his sufferings and woes, as they had preserved him for 
 this dearest of creatures. We were shocked at the dis- 
 covery, his situation distressed us, and we knew not what 
 to do, when he assured us that Sperata was in a condition 
 soon to become a mother. Our confessor did every thing 
 which his duty commanded, but that afforded us no relief. 
 The commands/of nature and religion, moral rights and 
 civil laws were all violently assailed by my brother. Nothing 
 appeared to him sacred, except his relation to Sperata, 
 nothing honourable, but the title of husband and father. 
 ' These alone,' he cried, ' are in strict accordance with 
 nature, all other things are fancy and opinion. Are there 
 not noble nations who permitted marriage with a sister ? 
 
APPEENTICESHIP. 545 
 
 Do not speak of your gods ; you never use their names, but 
 to deceive us, to lead us from the paths of nature, and by 
 shameful compulsion, to convert the most honourable im- 
 pulses into crimes. Madness and vice are the fate of thost 
 who became the victims of your abominable system. 
 
 " ' I may speak, for few persons have suffered like me ; I 
 known all feelings, from the highest and sweetest 
 enthusiasm, to the most frightful weakness, annihilation 
 and despair, from the loftiest aspirations of unearthly being, 
 to the most complete disbelief in myself. I have drunk 
 these dreadful dregs from the bottom of the attractive cup, 
 and my whole being has been poisoned to its inmost core. 
 But now when I am restored to my senses by the power of 
 love, that most precious gift of nature, when reposing in the 
 arms of a heavenly maiden, I become conscious of my own 
 existence, and of her's, and know that from this loving 
 union, another being will arise to smile upon us then you 
 open upon me your flames of hell, your purgatory, which can 
 only bewilder a vain imagination, and you oppose them to 
 the vivid, real and undestructible enjoyment of the purest 
 love. Meet us under yonder cypresses, whose solemn 
 summits aspire to heaven, meet us in the gardens where the 
 citrons and pomegranates bloom beside us, where the sweet 
 myrtles enchant us with their delicious flowers, and then 
 dare to perplex us with the harmless but wretched contri- 
 vances which the fancies of mankind have spun.' 
 
 " For a long time he continued in obstinate disbelief of our 
 story, and at length when we assured him of its truth, 
 which was confirmed by the statement of the confessor, he did 
 not become convinced, but exclaimed, ' Consult not the echoes 
 of your cloisters, consult not your antiquated parchments 
 and your contracted rules and ordinances ! Consult your 
 own hearts and nature : she will tell you from what you 
 should recoil, she will shew by the plainest evidence the 
 things upon which she has pronounced her enduring and 
 irrevocable curse. Behold the lilies ! Do not husband and 
 wife spring from one stem ? Does not the flower which 
 bore them, contain them both, and is not the lily the type, of 
 innocence, ami is not their sisterly union fruitful? Nature 
 declares the things which she abhors. The creature which 
 should not be, can never be produced. The creature which 
 
 2 w 
 
546 TVILHELM MEJSTEB'S 
 
 lives falsely, is soon destroyed. TJnfruitfulness, a wretched 
 existence, premature decay, these are her curses, the evi- 
 dences of her anger. She punishes by immediate effects. 
 Look around you, and you cannot fail to see what is for- 
 bidden, what is cursed. In the silence of the cloisters, in 
 the bustle of the world, a thousand practices are consecrated 
 and revered, upon which her curse has been pronounced. 
 She looks with eyes of displeasure upon inert idleness, no 
 less than upon overstrained toil, upon caprice and extrava- 
 gance as well as upon destitution and constraint. Her 
 maxim is moderation ; all her commands are true, and all her 
 influences peaceful. He who has suffered, as I have done, 
 has the privilege of being free. Sperata is mine, and death 
 alone shall deprive me of her. How can I retain her ? 
 How can I be happy ? What is your solicitude ? I shall go 
 to her this instant, and part from her no more.* 
 
 " He was hastening to the boat, that he might cross over 
 to her, but we detained him, begging that he would not take 
 a step which might produce such fearful consequences. He 
 should remember that he was not living in the free world of his 
 own thoughts and ideas, but in a state where laws and 
 regulations were as unchangeable as the principles of nature. 
 We promised our confessor that we would not lose sight 
 of our brother, nor allow him to leave the castle. Upon 
 this, he took his leave, assuring us that he would return 
 again in a few days. Our suspicions were soon realized. 
 My brother's understanding had made him strong, but his 
 heart was weak. The early impressions of religion returned 
 in full force, and dreadful doubts accompanied them. He 
 spent two tearful days and nights. The confessor visited 
 him again, but in vain. His emancipated understanding 
 declared him innocent, but his feelings, his religion, and his 
 customary ideas pronounced him guilty. 
 
 " One morning we found his apartment empty. A letter 
 lay upon the table in which he declared, that as we were de- 
 taining him a prisoner, he was justified in seeking his 
 freedom that he had fled, and was going to Sperata, that 
 he hoped to escape with her, and that he had formed his 
 resolution, if attempts were made to separate them. 
 
 " We were not a little alarmed, but our confessor recom- 
 mended us to be tranquil. Our poor brother was well 
 
APPRENTICEHIP. 547 
 
 watched. The boatman instead of rowing him across the 
 river, took him to his convent. Fatigued with a long 
 watching of four-and-twenty hours, he fell asleep as the 
 boat rocked to and fro in the moonlight, and he did not 
 awake until he found himself in the hands of his spiritual 
 brethren. When he came completely to himself, he found 
 the convent doors were locked upon him. 
 
 " Deeply distressed at the fate of our brother, we upbraided 
 the confessor severely, but this worthy man convinced us 
 with the surgeon's reason, that our pity was ruinous to the 
 patient ; he assured us that he had not acted on his own 
 authority, but by command of the Bishop and Chapter. It 
 was their object to avoid all public scandal, and to conceal 
 the sad calamity under the veil of a secret course of ecclesi- 
 astical discipline. Sperata was to be spared. She was not 
 to know that her lover was her own brother. She was con- 
 fided to the charge of a clergyman, to whom she had already 
 entrusted her secret. They adopted means for concealing 
 her pregnancy and the birth of her child. She felt happy. 
 Like most of our young women, she could neither read 
 nor write, and therefore her commissions to her lover were 
 entrusted to the clergyman. Believing that a pious fraud 
 was excusable in the case of a young mother, he brought 
 pretended news from her brother, whom he had never seen, 
 in his name recommending her to remain quiet, imploring 
 her to take care of herself and the child, and to leave all 
 other things to God. 
 
 " Sperata was naturally of a religious disposition. Her 
 peculiar situation and her solitude increased this feeling, 
 which was encouraged by the clergyman, in order to prepare 
 her gradually for an eternal separation. Immediately after 
 her child was weaned, and almost before she was strong 
 enough, in a physical point of view, to endure severe agony 
 of mind, he began to paint her fault in frightful colours, 
 representing that to have engaged herself to a priest was a 
 sort of sin against nature a species of spiritual incest. 
 For he had conceived the strange thought of making hei 
 repentance equal the excessive sorrow which she would have 
 felt, if she had only known the real circumstances of her 
 case. By this course he rendered her spirit so penitent and 
 contrite, he exalted the idea of the church and its pastors to- 
 
548 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 such a height, he explained the dreadful consequences of 
 easily pardoning sins of this nature, and of rewarding the 
 guilty by allowing them to be lawfully married he demon- 
 strated the advantage of expiating such crimes in time, and of 
 earning by this means a crown of immortality - so that at 
 length, like a poor sinner, she extended her neck willingly 
 to the axe, and insisted that she should be eternally separated 
 from her brother. Having obtained so much from her, they 
 allowed her, under certain restrictions, to reside in her own 
 house, or in the convent, as she herself might feel disposed. 
 
 " The child grew up and displayed an extraordinary dispo- 
 sition. From an early age she could run and move with 
 great agility she soon learned to sing sweetly, and could 
 play the cithern almost by intuition. But she could never 
 express herself with facility, and the difficulty seemed to 
 arise from Her style of thought, rather than from any defect 
 in her organs of speech. 
 
 " The mother's feelings towards her child were of the most 
 distressing nature the representations of the priest had 
 almost rendered her deranged. Her conduct appeared to 
 her daily in a more culpable light, and the frequency with 
 which she heard it compared to incest, had impressed her 
 mind so strongly, that her horror would have been no greater 
 if she had known all the circumstances of the case. The 
 confessor was proud of the skill with which he had contrived 
 to break the poor creature's heart. It was dreadful to con- 
 template a mother's love ready to glow with delight at the 
 thought of her infant's existence, but struggling with the 
 horrid idea that her child ought not to have been born. 
 These two feelings contended in her soul, but hatred ap- 
 peared to be stronger than love. 
 
 " She had long since been deprived of her child, which had 
 been entrusted to the care of a worthy family who resided 
 near the sea. The child soon evinced the greatest fancy for 
 climbing. To ascend the highest hills, to run along the sides 
 of the ships, and to imitate the most difficult feats of the 
 rope-dancers who sometimes visited the place, seemed to be 
 a mere impulse of nature. 
 
 " That she might do this the more easily, she frequently 
 changed clothes with the boys who were her companions, 
 and although such conduct was considered very unbecoming, 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 549 
 
 it was generally permitted. Her love of wandering often 
 led her far from home, and though she frequently went 
 astray, and continued absent for unusually long periods, she 
 r failed eventually to return. She would then take her 
 seat beneath the pillars of a portico before a large country 
 mansion in the neighbourhood, where she was allowed to re- 
 main as long as she pleased. She would rest upon the steps, or 
 at times running through the spacious hall, she would linger 
 among the statues, and then 'if nothing special occurred to 
 detain her, she would hasten home. 
 
 "But,at length, our hopes were deceived, and our confidence 
 punished. The child one day continued absent her hat 
 was found iloatin^ U p O n the water not far from a spot where 
 a torrent rushes into the sea. It was supposed that her 
 foot had slipped as she was climbing the rocks, and the most 
 diligent search after her body was made in vain. 
 
 - \ the thoughtless conversation of her companions, Spe- 
 rm a had become acquainted with the death of her child. 
 She received the information with calm resignation, even in- 
 timating her satisfaction that God had been pleased to take 
 the poor creature to himself, and to save it from enduring or 
 occasioning some more dreadful calamity. 
 
 " And now every fable was narrated which could bear any 
 reference to the sea. It was said, among other things, that 
 the sea required every year the sacrifice of an innocent 
 child, but as the waves could not endure the presence of 
 a dead body, they always cast the corpse upon the shore, 
 and rejected even the smallest bones, though they might 
 have sunk to the bottom of the ocean. They told how a 
 heart-broken mother, whose child had been drowned in the 
 sea, prayed to God and his saints to grant her at least the 
 bones for burial, how the next storm had cast up the skull, 
 and a succeeding one the spine, and how when she had col- 
 lected them all and carried them to the Church, O ! wonderful 
 to tell, she felt as she entered the sacred temple that her 
 burden was becoming heavier, and at length when she de- 
 posited it on the steps of the altar, the child began to cry, 
 and to the utter astonishment of the by-standers, issued 
 alive from the linen cloth. One bone of the little finger of 
 the right hand was missing, which the mother found after a - 
 
550 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 diligent search, and was afterwards preserved as a memorial 
 amongst the other relics of the church. 
 
 " These tales produced a strong impression on the mind of 
 poor Sperata. Her imagination now took a new course, and 
 favoured the emotion of her heart. She believed that her 
 child had expiated the sins of herself and of her parents, 
 and that the curse and punishment which had hitherto 
 threatened them, was now removed : that it would only be 
 necessary therefore to collect the bones and carry them to 
 Borne, and that upon being laid before the steps of the high 
 altar in St. Peter's, her child would once more assume its 
 pure flesh and stand alive before the assembled multitude. 
 It would again recognise father and mother, upon which the 
 Pope, convinced that it had been so ordained by Grod and 
 his saints, would amid the loud jubilee of the people, absolve 
 the parents' sins, remit their oaths, and unite them in holy 
 wedlock. 
 
 " Henceforth her anxious looks were incessantly directed 
 to the sea and to the beach. When the midnight waves foamed 
 in the moonlight, she expected that the rolling surge would 
 cast up her child, whereupon her friends would run to receive 
 it, when it should come to land. 
 
 " She walked incessantly by day in those places, where the 
 pebbly shore declined gradually to the beach, collecting in a 
 basket all the bones that she could find. No one ventured 
 to tell her that many of them were the bones of animals, 
 but nevertheless, she buried the larger ones and retained 
 only those which were small. She employed herself thus 
 incessantly. The clergyman, whose unwearied exertions 
 had reduced her to this state of mind, defended her conduct 
 with all his might. His influence induced the neighbours to 
 regard her not as a mad woman, but as an inspired person, 
 and, when she passed, they looked at her silently, and the 
 children ran to kiss her hands. 
 
 "The clergyman had informed the old woman who was 
 Sperata' s friend and attendant, of the sin which she had 
 committed by contracting her forbidden marriage. She had 
 therefore solemnly promised to watch over the unhappy 
 creature during her life, and with praiseworthy and conscien- 
 tious patience she had hitherto discharged her duty. 
 
APPEE^TICESniP. 551 
 
 " In the mean time, we had not lost sight of her brother. 
 Neither the physicians nor the clergy of his convent would 
 allow us to appear before him ; but to convince ourselves 
 that he was improving in some degree, we were permitted to 
 see him as often as we pleased, as he walked in the garden or 
 the cloisters, or to look at him through a window in the roof 
 of his apartment. 
 
 " I shall pass over many strange changes which he under- 
 
 , till at length lit' attained a state of mental tranquillity 
 
 and bodily restlessness. He would never consent to sit 
 
 down, except upon occasions when he took his harp and 
 
 played thereon, for the most part accompanying himself with 
 
 singing. But he was generally in a state of motion, though 
 
 - quiet and tractable. All his passions seemed 
 
 to have roiieent rated themselves into one single feeling, an 
 
 apprehension of death : and hence, he could have been in- 
 
 I to do anything by threatening him with a dangerous 
 
 illness, or with death. 
 
 " Besides his strange habit of walking incessantly up and 
 down the cloisters, upon which occasions he would suggest 
 re better if his time were spent in wandering over 
 hill and dale he would often speak of an apparition which 
 constantly tormented him. He asserted that, upon waking 
 at any hour of the night, he always beheld a beautiful boy 
 standing at his bed-side, with a bare knife, and threatening 
 to kill him. They removed him to another apartment, but 
 he still declared that even there and in various olher cham- 
 bers of the convent, the figure pursued him. His wander- 
 ings to and fro now became more restless,and the people after- 
 wards remembered that, about this time, he was accustomed 
 often to stand at the window, looking out upon the sea. 
 
 " In the mean time, our poor sister seemed to be gradually 
 wasting away, under the effects of her one single thought, of 
 her one constant occupation. Our physician at length pro- 
 posed that they should gradually mingle amongst the bones 
 which she had collected, the fragments of a child's skeleton, 
 in order that her hopes might be thus encouraged. The 
 success of the experiment seemed doubtful, but they might 
 at least expect that when she had collected all the bones of 
 a human form, she would desist from her search, and indulge 
 hopes of making a journey to Rome. 
 
552 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 " This step was accordingly taken. Her attendant gra- 
 dually changed the bones which had been given to her, for 
 those which Sperata had found, and an incredible delight 
 was instantly experienced by the poor infirm creature upon 
 observing that the parts fitted together, and that they 
 could distinguish those which were wanting. With great 
 labour she had fastened the joints together with thread and 
 ribbon, and pursuing the custom which is adopted with the 
 relics of saints, she had filled up the interstices with em- 
 broidery and silk. 
 
 " In this manner they collected nearly all the bones. Only 
 a few of the extremities were deficient. One morning, 
 whilst Sperata was still sleeping, and the physician had 
 come to inquire after her health, the old woman, in order to 
 shew him how his patient occupied herself, took the bones 
 from a box which stood in the apartment. Immediately 
 afterwards they heard her leap out of bed, and raising the 
 cloth she found the box empty. She threw herself upon her 
 knees, whereupon they approached and listened to her cor- 
 dial, ardent proyer. ' Yes, it is true !' she cried, ' it is no 
 dream, it is true ! Rejoice, my friends, with me ! I have 
 seen the dear, the beautiful creature again alive ! She 
 rose and laid aside her veil her splendour illuminated the 
 room, her beauty transfigured her form, she could not tread 
 the ground, notwithstanding her exertions. Lightly was 
 she raised on high, but she was unable to extend her hand 
 to me. There ! she exclaimed, and pointed out the way 
 which I should follow. And I shall follow her soon, and my 
 heart grows light to think of it. My sorrow is vanishing, 
 the sight of my reanimated child has already given me a 
 foretaste of heavenly joy.' 
 
 " Her soul from henceforth was filled with the most cheer- 
 ful prospects she paid no attention to any earthly object, 
 she partook of but little food, and her spirit gradually be- 
 came detached from the ties of the body. At length, they 
 found her pale and motionless she opened her eyes no 
 more she was dead. 
 
 " The report of her vision had been circulated among the 
 people, and the reverence with which she had been regarded 
 in her life time, was converted upon her death, into the be- 
 lief that she was now a happy saint. 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 553 
 
 " As she was borne to her grave, the crowd pressed eagerly 
 round to kiss her hand, and touch her shroud. In this im- 
 passioned excitement, various sick persons ceased to feel the 
 pains which usually afflicted them ; they thought themselves 
 cured, they asserted it upon which they praised God and 
 his new saint. The priesthood were obliged to lay out the 
 body in a neighbouring chapel ; the people required an op- 
 portunity for paying their devotions the crowd was enor- 
 mous ; the mountaineers, whose religious feelings are at all 
 times easily aroused, thronged together from their valleys, 
 and the reverence, the wonder and the adoration increased 
 from day to day. The decrees of the bishops, which were 
 intended to subdue, and gradually to abolish this new wor- 
 ship, were disobeyed. The people resisted all opposition to 
 their wishes, and were ready to treat every unbeliever with 
 violence. ' Did not the holy Borromeo,' they exclaimed, 
 ' dwell among our ancestors ? Did not his mother survive 
 the glory of his canonization ? Is not that great statue on 
 the rocks near Avona intended to present to our minds, by 
 an iiir.)^', tin* idea of his spiritual greatness? Do not his 
 descendants live amongst us still ? And has not God pro- 
 mised to repeat his miracles for ever amongst a believing 
 people ?' 
 
 "When the body, after the expiration of some days, shewed 
 no symptoms of decay, but had rather become whiter and 
 more transparent, the faith of the people rose still higher ; 
 and, when subsequently various cures took place amongst 
 the multitude, which the most attentive observers could 
 neither explain nor fairly ascribe to imposition, the whole 
 country was in commotion, and even those who did not stir 
 from their dwellings, for a long time heard no other topic 
 discussed. 
 
 " The convent where my brother was confined resounded, 
 like all the neighbourhood, with these wonders ; and the 
 people felt no reluctance to speak about them in his pre- 
 sence, as he seldom gave heed to any thing ; and his connec- 
 tion with the events themselves was not known. Upon this 
 occasion, however, he seemed to listen with peculiar atten- 
 tionand he took measures for his flight with such skill, 
 that no one could ever ascertain how he had managed to 
 escape from the convent. We learned afterwards that he 
 
554 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 had crossed the water with a crowd of pilgrims, and that the 
 boatmen could observe in his conduct no other evidence of 
 insanity than a great apprehension lest the boat should be 
 overturned. Late in the night he reached the chapel where 
 the unfortunate object of his love was resting from her woes. 
 Only a few pious persons were kneeling in the corners. 
 Sperata's old friend was sitting amongst them he saluted 
 her as he entered, and inquired how her mistress found her- 
 self? 'As you see,' she answered, with some embarrass- 
 ment. He surveyed the corpse with a sidelong glance, and 
 after some hesitation he took its hand. Shocked at the 
 coldness, he let it go immediately, and looking round with 
 restless eyes, he said to the attendant, ' I cannot remain 
 with you at present, I have a long way to travel, but 
 I will return at the proper time tell her BO when she 
 awakes.' 
 
 " So saying he went away. It was late when we heard of 
 these circumstances, we then inquired after him and of the 
 route which he had taken, but iii vain ! Since then he must 
 have undergone incredible toil to traverse so many moun- 
 tains and valleys. After a long time we discovered some 
 clue to him in the canton of the Orisons, but we soon lost 
 sight of him again. We suspect that he has passed into 
 Germany, but all trace of him has been obliterated by the 
 war." 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 THE Abbe ceased to read, and no person had listened 
 without tears. The Countess still held her handkerchief to 
 her eyes, when, at length, she rose from her seat and left 
 the apartment. The rest of the company continued 
 silent, till the Abbe observed: "We must now consider 
 whether we should permit the Marquis to depart without 
 acquainting him with our secret. For who can doubt for 
 an instant that Augustine and the old Harper are the same 
 individual? Let us consider what course we had better 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 555 
 
 follow, as well for the sake of the unhappy man himself, as 
 for the family. My advice would be to hasten nothing, but 
 to wait patiently till we receive news from the physician, 
 whose arrival we shortly expect." 
 
 They were all of the same opinion, and the Abbe thus 
 continued, " Another question occurs to me, which it is, 
 perhaps, more easy to answer. The Marquis is deeply 
 moved at the remembrance of the great kindness which his 
 poor niece received from our young friend. He has com- 
 pelled me, more than once, to repeat to him the whole ac- 
 count circumstantially, which he has listened to with feelings 
 of the liveliest gratitude. ' Wilhelm,' he observed, ' had 
 refused to accompany- me upon my travels, whilst he was 
 ignorant of the connection which subsists between us. But 
 I am no longer a stranger, with whose habits and disposition 
 he is entirely unacquainted. I am his companion, his rela- 
 tion, if I may say so, and as his boy, from whom he was 
 reluctant to separate, was the obstacle which prevented him 
 from accompanying me, let the child now become a firmer 
 bond to unite us to each other. In addition to the obliga- 
 tions which I owe to him at present, let him prove service- 
 able to me upon my journey, and when he returns my elder 
 brother will receive him with joy. And let him not reject 
 the fortune of his adopted child, for, in pursuance of a secret 
 stipulation between our father and his friend, the fortune 
 which had been intended for his daughter, has returned to 
 us, and we will not deprive the benefactor of our niece of a 
 recompense which he has so well deserved.' " 
 
 Theresa took Wilhelm's hand, and said to him, " We find 
 here another beautiful exemplification of the truth, that dis- 
 interested actions will earn the richest recompense. Accept 
 this strange invitation, and, whilst you render a double ser- 
 vice to the Marquis, hasten to that beautiful country, which 
 has already so completely won your imagination and your 
 heart." 
 
 " I submit to the guidance of ray friends," answered "Wil- 
 helm ; " it is vain, in this world, to expect a complete fulfil- 
 ment of our wishes. I must abandon my former firm deter- 
 mination, and I am overwhelmed with favours which I never 
 ved." 
 
 With a gentle pressure of Theresa's hand, Wilhelm with- 
 
556 WILHELM MEISTEB'S 
 
 drew his own. " You must determine,'' he said, addressing 
 the Abbe, " what is to be my fate. If I am only not 
 obliged to abandon my little lelix, I am content with all 
 things, and ready to undertake whatever may be considered 
 right." 
 
 Upon receiving this assurance, the Abbe immediately 
 announced his plan. " We must allow the Marquis to de- 
 part," he said ; " Wilhelm. must wait here to receive the 
 report of the physician, and, when we have considered our 
 subsequent course, Wilhelm may set out accompanied by 
 Felix." Alleging, therefore, that the arrangements of his 
 young friend would prevent his immediate departure, he 
 persuaded the Marquis to devote the intervening time to an 
 examination of the curiosities of the place he intended to 
 visit. The latter accordingly commenced his journey, not 
 however without repeated assurances of his gratitude, of 
 which the presents that he left behind, consisting of jewels, 
 precious stones, and embroidered stuffs, afforded ample 
 evidence. 
 
 Wilhelm was now quite ready for his journey, and the 
 whole party felt, on this account, more perplexed, that 
 no news had been received from the physician. They feared 
 lest some misfortune might have happened to the Harper 
 at the very time when they were expecting news of his 
 complete recovery. They accordingly despatched a courier 
 for intelligence. He had scarcely set out when the physician 
 entered in the evening, with a stranger, whose form and 
 appearance were most expressive and earnest, and with 
 whom no person seemed acquainted. They continued silent 
 for a time, at length, the stranger, advancing towards Wil- 
 helm, held out his hand, saying, " Do you not recognise your 
 old friend once more ?" It was the voice of the Harper, 
 but no trace remained of his former appearance. He was 
 dressed in the ordinary neat and appropriate costume of a 
 traveller, his beard had disappeared, his hair was fashionably 
 dressed, and what most of all made it difficult to recog- 
 nise him, was that his expressive features bore no appearance 
 of age. Wilhelm embraced him with the greatest joy; he 
 was then introduced to the rest of the company, and he 
 conducted himself with perfect propriety, little suspecting 
 that the party had so lately become acquainted with his 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 557 
 
 history. " You will, doubtless, shew some forbearance," he 
 said, with the most perfect composure, " towards a man, who, 
 though no longer young, is now, after a long course of suf- 
 fering, entering upon the world like an inexperienced 
 child. I am indebted to this worthy man for the privilege 
 of again resuming my place among my fellow men.'* 
 
 lit was welcomed, and the physician then proposed a 
 walk, in order to interrupt the present conversation, and lead 
 to other topics. 
 
 As soon as they were alone, the physician gave the follow- 
 ing account : " The cure of this man has been effected by 
 the most singular accident. Pursuant to our convictions, 
 we had submitted him to a course of moral and physical 
 Uvatment, and, up to a certain point, ever thing went well, 
 but he continued to entertain the most dreadful apprehen- 
 sions of death, and he would not consent to lay aside his 
 cloak or beard. But he had commenced to take a greater 
 interest in worldly matters, and his songs, and the tone of 
 his ideas seemed to be more in accordance with actual life. 
 You recollect the strange letter from the clergyman which 
 summoned me hence. Upon my arrival, I found my 
 patient quite altered ; he had, of his own accord, aban- 
 doned his beard, and allowed his hair to be dressed 
 in the usual fashion, he had asked for ordinary clothes, 
 and appeared to have been suddenly converted into a 
 different being. We were curious to learn the cause of 
 this transformation, and, though we did not venture to make 
 the inquiry of himself, we, at length, became acquainted 
 with it accidentally. A glass of opium was missed from the 
 laboratory of the clergyman, about which it was considered 
 necessary to make the strictest inquiries, every one sought 
 to avert suspicion from himself, and violent contentions 
 arose among the inmates of the establishment. At last the 
 old Harper stepped forward and confessed that he possessed 
 the laudanum ; we inquired whether he had swallowed any 
 of it, he answered in the negative, assuring us, however, 
 that he was indebted to it for the recovery of his reason. 
 * It rests with you, to deprive me of this little bottle, if you 
 think fit, and I shall then return hopelessly to my former 
 condition. The conviction that it was desirable to terminate 
 the sorrows of this world by death, opened to me the oath 
 
558 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 of recovery. I thought of terminating them by suicide, 
 and, with this view, I possessed myself of the laudanum. 
 The possibility of freeing myself from my sufferings for 
 ever has now given me strength to bear them, and, since I 
 have had this talisman, I have felt myself restored to life 
 by my proximity to death. Do not fear that I shall make 
 use of it, but determine, as men who understand the human 
 heart, to make me properly dependent upon life, by render- 
 ing me wholly independent of it.' After mature considera- 
 tion, we determined to press him no farther, and he now 
 carries the poison about with him in a little glass bottle, 
 against which he possesses the strongest antidote." 
 
 They informed the Physician of all the circumstances that 
 had occurred since his departure, and it was determined that 
 Augustine should not be made acquainted with them. The 
 Abbe undertook the task of watching him attentively, 
 and of keeping him in the path upon which he had no\v 
 entered. 
 
 In the mean time, "Wilhelm was to set out upon his jour- 
 uey through Germany. If it should appear practicable to 
 awaken Augustine's love for his native land, his relations 
 were to be made acquainted with the circumstance, and Wil- 
 helm was then to take charge of him. 
 
 \Vilhelm had now concluded all his preparations. The 
 Abbe at first thought it strange that Augustine should 
 rejoice at the approaching departure of his friend and bene- 
 factor, but he soon discovered the cause of this singular 
 Teeling. Augustine could not overcome the fear which he 
 entertained of Felix, and he wished the boy to be removed 
 as soon as possible. 
 
 By degrees, so many persons had arrived, that the castle 
 and adjoining buildings could scarcely afford accommodation 
 for them all, more especially as early preparations had not 
 been made for the entertainment of so many guests. They 
 all breakfasted and dined together, and though they would 
 willingly have persuaded themselves that their intercourse 
 was full of pleasant harmony, in the secrecy of their hearts, 
 they often longed to separate. Theresa sometimes rode out 
 with Lothario, but more frequently alone, and she formed an 
 acquaintance with all the landlords and landladies of the 
 country, as it was one of her principles of domestic economy 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 559 
 
 to be on the best terms with her neighbours, and to maintain 
 with them an interchange of civilities. There seemed no 
 prospect of a marriage being concluded between herself and 
 Lothario ; the two sisters held frequent communications 
 together ; the Abbe seemed partial to the society of the 
 Harper ; Jarno had many conferences with the Physician ; 
 constant to Wilhelm ; and Felix was found 
 wherever there was any prospect of amusement. In this 
 ..or, the company were distributed (.luring their prome- 
 nades, and when they returned home, and were still obliged 
 to remain together, they found a resource in music, which, 
 whilst it kept them united, restored each individual to him- 
 self. 
 
 The unexpected arrival of the Count increased the number 
 of the guests. He had come to remove his lady, and to take 
 a formal leave of his relations. Jarno ha>tened to meet 
 him, and when the latter inquired the names of the company, 
 Jarno answered, in a tone of wild humour to which he was 
 accustomed, " You will find all the nobles of the land assem- 
 bled together, Marquises, Marchionesses, my Lords, and 
 Barons, w r e fail in nothing but a Count." They went up 
 stairs, and Wilhelm was the first person who met them in 
 the anteroom. " My Lord," said the Count, addressing him 
 in French, after he had looked at him for a moment, " I am 
 lad to renew my acquaintance with you so unexpectedly, as 
 much mistaken if I have not seen you before at my 
 castle in the Prince's suite." " I had the happiness of waiting 
 upon your excellency at that time," said Wilhelm, " but you 
 honour me too highly in taking me for an Englishman of 
 rank. I am a German." The Count looked at Wilhelm 
 with a smile, and was about to make some reply, when the 
 other guests arrived, and cordially welcomed him. They 
 apologized for not being able to provide him with better 
 accommodation, promising, however, that he should be at- 
 tended to as well as possible. 
 
 " Ah !" said he, with a smile, " I see you have allowed 
 chance to make your arrangements, but how much can be 
 effected by means of a little foresight and prudence ! I beg, 
 however, that you will not make the slightest alteration, for 
 it would cause the greatest confusion. Every one would be 
 inconvenienced, and that shall not happen on my account. 
 
560 WILHELM MEISTEfi'3 
 
 You were witness, however," he said, turning to Jarno, 
 " and also you, Meister, how many persons I easily accommo- 
 dated at my castle. Give me the list of the guests and ser- 
 vants, shew me how every one is lodged, and I will make a 
 new arrangement, according to which, every one shall be 
 provided with a comfortable apartment, and there shall be 
 room, in addition, for any accidental guest that may arrive." 
 
 Jarno assisted the Count in his project, furnished him 
 with all necessary information, and took the greatest delight 
 in occasionally leading him astray. But t^e Count finally 
 enjoyed a great triumph. The arrangements were satisfac- 
 torily completed, the names of the several guests were 
 written over the several doors, and it could not be denied that, 
 with very little trouble and inconvenience, the desired object 
 was satisfactorily attained. Jarno, amongst other contri- 
 vances, had so managed, that the persons who, at the present 
 moment, felt an interest in each other, should be lodged to- 
 gether. 
 
 "When all these changes had been made, the Count said 
 to Jarno, " Now give me some information about that young 
 man whom you call Meister, and who you tell me is a 
 German." Jarno remained silent, knowing that the Count 
 was one of those people, who ask questions for the sake of 
 displaying their own information. The Count continued, 
 without waiting for a reply. " Tou presented him to me, 
 and warmly recommended him in the name of the Prince. 
 If his mother was a German, I will lay a wager that his 
 father was an Englishman, and probably a man of rank. 
 Who can calculate all the English blood, which, for the last 
 thirty years, has flowed in German veins ! But I will not 
 press you further : there are always some family secrets 
 to conceal, but in matters like this, you cannot deceive me." 
 He then related many circumstances which had occurred 
 with "Wilhelm during his stay at the Castle. Jarno remained 
 silent, for he saw that the Count was wholly mistaken, and 
 had confounded Wilhelm with a young Englishman, who, 
 upon that occasion, had formed one of the Prince's suite. 
 The old gentleman had once possessed an excellent memory, 
 of which he was highly proud, as he could recollect the most 
 trifling circumstance of his youth ; but now, in the growing 
 weakness of his faculties, he was accustomed to detail as true, 
 
APPBENTICESHIP. 561 
 
 the strange combinations which his fancy frequently pre- 
 sented to his mind. His manners, however, were mild 
 and gentle, and his presence never failed to produce a favour- 
 able effect upon the company. He would frequently induce 
 them to engage in useful reading, and occasionally introduced 
 some trifling amusements and small games, in which, if he 
 did not himself take part, he seemed to feel the greatest in- 
 terest, and directed with the greatest care, and when his 
 friends wondered at his condescension, he would say, that it 
 was the duty of every one who differed from the world in 
 great things, to conform himself to their habits in matters of 
 indifference. 
 
 AVilhelm, upon these occasions, suffered many annoyances 
 and vexations. The thoughtless Friedrich seized every op- 
 portunity to allude to Wilhelm's partiality for Natalia. And 
 yet how could he have discovered it ? What could justify 
 him in the idea ? Would not all parties, however, suppose 
 that as they were so frequently together, Wilhelm had im- 
 prudently and unhappily made him his confidant ? 
 
 Whilst they were thus engaged one day, and apparently 
 in a humour more cheerful than usual, Augustine rushed to 
 the door, and burst it open with a terrified look : his face 
 was pale, his eyes stared wildly, and though he wished to 
 speak, he could not utter a syllable. The whole party were 
 alarmed ; Lothario and Jarno, supposing that he was seized 
 with a new fit of madness, sprang forward and seized him. 
 He stammered out something indistinctly, but, at length, 
 he exclaimed with a loud voice, " Do not hold me ! quick 
 help ! save the child Felix is poisoned!" 
 
 They let him go, he ran hastily from the apartment, and 
 they followed him in consternation. They sent for the 
 physician : Augustine had directed his steps to the Abbe's 
 room ; they found the child,, and when they asked him what 
 had happened, he seemed frightened and amazed. 
 
 " Dear father," answered Felix, " I did not drink from the 
 bottle, but from the glass, I was so thirsty." 
 
 Augustine clasped his hands wildly together, exclaiming, 
 " He is lost;" he forced his way through the by-standers, 
 and rushed from the apartment. 
 
 They found a glass of almond-milk upon the table. A 
 small bottle stood near it, which was more than hull-empty. 
 
562 WILHELM MEISTER S 
 
 The physician came, and heard what had occurred. He was 
 shocked to see the well-known bottle, which had contained 
 the laudanum, lying empty upon the table. He called for 
 vinegar, and had recourse to all the remedies of art. 
 
 Natalia caused the child to be carried to a chamber, and she 
 devoted herself anxiously to him. The Abbe had gone in search 
 of Augustine, to learn from him the real facts of the case. The 
 unfortunate father was employed in a similar way ; and upon 
 his return he saw alarm and terror in every countenance. 
 The physician had, in the mean time, examined the almond- 
 milk, and discovered that it contained a strong mixture of 
 laudanum. The child lay upon the bed in a pitiful state, re- 
 questing his father to give him no more medicine, and not to 
 pain him farther. Lothario had sent his attendants out, and 
 gone forth himself to find, if possible, some trace of Au- 
 gustine. Natalia sat by Felix. He had laid his head in her 
 lap, and was imploring her to help him to give him a bit of 
 sugar, as the vinegar was so sour. The physician consented, 
 and desired them to allow the child, who was frightfully 
 agitated, to enjoy a moment's repose, assuring them that no 
 available remedy should be left unemployed. The Count 
 approached with a look of anger. In an earnest and solemn 
 manner, he laid his hands upon the head of the child, turned 
 his eyes to heaven, and remained for a moment in that atti- 
 tude. Wilhelm, who was lying upon the sofa, in a state of 
 the deepest distress, sprang up, and casting a look of despair 
 upon Natalia, left the apartment. The Count followed him 
 immediately. 
 
 " I cannot understand," observed the physician, " how it 
 is that the child does not shew the smallest symptom of 
 danger. He must have swallowed a large dose of laudanum at 
 a single draught ; and yet his pulse seems to be aifected by 
 nothing but the remedies which we have applied ; and, 
 perhaps, by the fright arising from the occurrence." 
 
 Jarno now arrived, with the news that they had found 
 Augustine in the garret, bathed in blood, a razor was lying 
 near him, and he appeared to have cut his throat. The 
 physician ran out at the intelligence, and met the servants, 
 who were carrying the body down stairs. He was laid upon 
 a bed, and carefully examined. The gash had penetrated 
 the windpipe : after a copious loss of blood he had fallen 
 
APPRENTICE 6 II IP. 5G3 
 
 into a swoon, but they soon perceived that not only life, but 
 hopes of his recovery remained. The physician placed the 
 body in a proper position, united the edges of the wound, 
 and bound it up. They all passed a sleepless and anxious 
 night. Felix would not leave Natalia. Wilhehn took his 
 seat before her on a stool, holding his boy's feet in his hands, 
 whilst his head was reposing on Natalia's lap ; and thus they 
 divided the pleasing burden and the painful anxiety, until 
 day dawned upon their distress. Natalia had given her hand 
 to Wilhelni they did not utter a word, but they looked at the 
 child, and then at one another silently. Lothario and Jarno 
 were sitting at the other end of the apartment, engaged in 
 animated conversation, which, if the interest of our narrat i\v 
 allowed, we would gladly communicate to our readers. The 
 child enjoyed a sound sleep, and in the morning he awoke, 
 cheerful and refreshed, sat up and asked for a piece of bread 
 and butter. 
 
 As soon as Augustine had in some measure recovered, they 
 applied to him for an explanation of the mystery. He stated, 
 with apparent reluctance, that upon the change of apartments 
 which had taken place under the directions of the Count, he 
 found himself in the same quarters with the Abbe, and that in 
 this manner the manuscript, which contained his own history, 
 had fallen into his hands : that he was dreadfully shocked upon 
 perusing it, and felt convinced that it was impossible for him 
 to live : that, thereupon, he had had recourse as usual to his 
 laudanum, which he mixed with a glass of almond-milk, but 
 shuddered when he had raised it to his lips : that he set it 
 down, and hastened into the garden to breath the fresh air : 
 and that, upon returning, he had found Felix in the act of 
 filling his glass, which he had already once emptied. 
 
 They entreated the unfortunate man to be calm he seized 
 Wilhelm violently by the hand and cried, " Alas ! why did 
 I not leave you long ago ? I knew that I should kill the 
 child, and that he would occasion my death." " But Felix 
 lives !" said Wilhelm. The physician, who had listened in 
 silence, inquired whether all the milk had been mixed with 
 laudanum ? " No !" answered he, " only what the - 
 contained!" "Then, by the luckiest accident," cried the 
 physician, " the child has drunk from the bottle ! some good 
 genius has guided his hand, and rescued him from the death 
 
564 WILHELM MEISTER'S 
 
 which seemed inevitable." " No, no !" exclaimed Wilhelm, 
 with a groan, as he held his hands before his eyes, " How 
 dreadful are the words ! Felix asserted distinctly that he 
 had drunk not from the bottle, but from the glass. His 
 recovery is but a momentary delusion, he will surely die." 
 He hastened out : the physician went to Felix, and caressing 
 him tenderly, inquired whether he had not drunk from the 
 bottle, and not from the glass ? The child burst into tears, 
 the physician whispered his suspicions to Natalia she tried 
 to elicit a confession from Felix, but he only wept, and 
 continued to do so, until he fell asleep. 
 
 "Wilhelm watched by his side. He passed a tranquil 
 night. In the morning Augustine was found dead in his 
 bed. He had contrived to deceive his attendants by an 
 assumed sleep, had untied the bandage, and bled to death. 
 Natalia took Felix out to walk. He was as cheerful as in 
 his happiest days. "You are so kind to me!" he said to 
 her, " you never scold, nor beat me, and I will tell you every- 
 thing I drank out of the bottle ! Mamma Aurelia always 
 struck me when I did so, and father always looked so angry, 
 that I thought he meant to beat me too." 
 
 Natalia flew to the castle. "Wilhelm met her with his 
 heart full of anxiety and fear. " Happy father !" she ex- 
 claimed, taking up the child in her arms, and presenting it 
 to his embrace. " Your son is safe : he drank from the 
 bottle, and his naughtiness has saved his life !" 
 
 They informed the Count of the happy issue. He listened 
 with that silent smiling satisfaction with which we are 
 accustomed to tolerate the errors of a good man. Jarno, who 
 fas attentive to all that occurred, was unable to account for 
 is apparent self-complacency, until, after many evasions, 
 nis Lordship declared his conviction that the child had really 
 taken poison, but that he himself, by means of prayer and 
 intercession with heaven, had miraculously preserved his life. 
 He determined now to take leave of them, and accordingly 
 his preparations were speedily made. The Countess, before 
 she bade them farewell, took Wilhelm' s hand in her own, 
 and at the same time affectionately pressing that of her 
 sister, she joined their hands together, then turning away 
 hastily, she stepped into her carriage. 
 
 The many frightful and wonderful events which had so 
 
APPRENT1 CESHIP. 565 
 
 rapidly taken place, had diverted the whole party from their 
 accustomed regularity of life, occasioning general disorder 
 and confusion, and introducing a feverish excitement into 
 all departments of the household. They had altered their 
 hours for sleeping, and rising, for eating and drinking, and 
 for indulging in social conversation. With the exception of 
 Theresa, they had all been turned from their accustomed 
 regularity of existence. The men had had recourse to wine 
 for the restoration of their spirits, and while, by this means, 
 they acquired an artificial cheerfulness, they drove away 
 that natural vivacity which alone gives true strength and 
 activity. 
 
 Wilhelm was agitated by the most painful feelings. The 
 fearful circumstances which had so suddenly occurred ren- 
 dered him powerless to resist a passion which had taken 
 complete possession of his heart. Though Felix had been 
 restored to him, he appeared to be destitute of every thing. 
 And though Werner's letters, containing all necessary 
 directions for his journey, had arrived, he could not summon 
 up courage to take his departure. All things conspired to 
 urge him to this step. He might easily see that Lothario 
 and Theresa only waited for his absence to conclude their 
 marriage. Jarno was unusually silent, and seemed to have 
 lost something of his customary cheerfulness. Fortunately 
 the physician was able to assist our friend in his embarra-- 
 ment, by pronouncing him ill, and treating him as an invalid. 
 
 The company continued to meet together in the evening, 
 and Friedrich, that wild youth, who often drank more wine 
 than was prudent, took the principal part in the conversation, 
 and kept them all in a roar of laughter by his quotations and 
 ridiculous remarks, and by his imprudent habit of constantly 
 expressing his thoughts to himself aloud, he more than once 
 threw them all into embarrassment. 
 
 He did not think very seriously of Wilhelm' a illness. 
 Upon one occasion, when they were all assembled together, 
 he cried, " What is the name of the sickness which has 
 attacked our friend ? Cannot you describe it by one of the 
 three thousand names with which you cloak your ignorance ? 
 You must have seen some similar cases. I think," he con- 
 tinued, in an emphatic tone, " that we shall find something 
 like it in Egyptian or Babylonish history." 
 
566 WILHELM MEISTEll's 
 
 The bystanders looked at one another and smiled. 
 
 " What was the name of that King ?" he asked, and 
 paused for a reply. " O," he continued, " if you will not 
 come to my assistance, I must help myself.'' He opened 
 the folding doors of the apartment, and pointed to a large 
 picture in the antechamber, " What is the name of that old 
 gentleman with the crown, who is standing at the foot of 
 the bed, and looking so unhappy at his poor sick son ? What 
 is the name of that beautiful girl who is just making her 
 appearance with her modegt roguish eyes, the unconscious 
 bearer of the poison and the antidote ? What is the name 
 of the bungler of a doctor, who just catches a glimpse of the 
 real state of things, and for the first time in his life prescribes 
 a proper remedy, orders a medicine which works a complete 
 cure, and is no less agreeable than effective." 
 
 In this manner he continued to banter. But the company 
 bore it all as well as possible, and concealed their embarrass- 
 ment under an ailectation of mirth. A slight blush had in 
 the meantime suffused Natalia's cheeks, and betrayed the 
 emotions of her heart. Fortunately for herself, she was 
 walking up and down the room with Jarno, and seizing an 
 opportunity when she reached the door, she slipped out, 
 and after having taken a few turns in the ante-chamber, 
 she retired to her own apartment. 
 
 A general silence ensued, whereupon Friedrich began to 
 sing, 
 
 " Wonders we shall soon behold ! 
 What luus happened must be told 
 W hat is told, we all shall say, 
 And before the dawn of day, 
 Wonders strange we shall behold !" 
 
 Theresa had gone to join Natalia. Friedrich took the 
 physician to examine the picture, pronounced a ridiculous 
 eulogium upon the virtues of medicine, and then withdrew. 
 
 Lothario had all this time been standing at the window, 
 looking out calmly into the garden. Wilhelm was in the most 
 pitiable condition. Even now, when he was quite alone with 
 his friend, he could not speak for a considerable time : he 
 took a rapid glance at his own history, and at length he 
 thought of his present situation with a shudder. He started 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 567 
 
 up and cried, " If I am to blame for what lias happened, and 
 for what you have endured, punish me ! In addition to my 
 present sufferings, withdraw your friendship from me, and 
 leave me to wander disconsolate through a world in which I 
 ought long ago to have lost myself. But if you behold in 
 me the victim of a cruel entanglement of chance, from which 
 I have been unable to escape, give me the assurance of your 
 friendship and your love, and accompany me upon a journey, 
 which I dare not longer postpone. The time will come 
 when I shall be able to explain to you what has happened 
 to me lately. Perhaps I am now suffering this punishment, 
 because I aid not make an earlier discovery of my condition 
 to you, because I have hesitated to explain my circumstances 
 fully. You might have helped me, you might have assisted 
 i the proper moment. But thus it has always been 
 wi:h me. 1 learn to know myself too late, and in vain. 
 How richly have I deserved Jarno's censure. I thought I 
 had understood it, hoped to profit by it, and to commence 
 a new life. Could I might I have done so ? It is in vain 
 that mortals accuse themselves and fortune! We are 
 wretched beings and appointed to misery, and it matters 
 little whether it is our own misconduct, or higher influence, 
 or chance, virtue or vice, wisdom or folly, that plunges us 
 into ruin. Farewell ! I shall not delay for an instant longer 
 in a house where I have so shamefully violated the rights of 
 hospitality. The indiscretion of vour brother is unpar- 
 donable. It has brought my misfortunes to a climax, and 
 driven me to despair." 
 
 "And what would you say," observed Lothario, "if your 
 marriage with my sister were the secret condition upon 
 which Theresa had promised to enrich me with her hand ? 
 The noble maiden intends that you shall enjoy this splendid 
 recompense. She has vowed that this twofold marriage 
 shall be celebrated upon the same day : 'His reason,' she 
 says, ' has chosen me, but his heart requires Natalia, and 
 my reason shall assist his heart ?' "We determined to watch 
 you and Natalia attentively, we made the Abbe our confi- 
 dant, and we promised him that we would not hasten the 
 marriage, but suffer things to take their own course. AVe 
 have done so. Nature has produced its proper effect, and 
 our mad brother has only shaken the ripe fruit from the 
 
568 WILHELM MEISTEE'S 
 
 And now that we have been so unexpectedly brought to- 
 gether, let us not pursue a common life. Let us lead a life 
 of activity for noble purposes. The benefits which a man 
 of cultivated mind may render to himself and others, are 
 inconceivable, if without aspiring to rule, he can become the 
 guardian to many, and teach them to do things at the proper 
 season, which, at any rate, they are inclined at some time 
 to effect, can guide them to objects which, though they see 
 with sufficient clearness, they can seldom accomplish with 
 success. Let us, therefore, make a contract together. This 
 is no enthusiasm, it is an idea quite practicable, and which has 
 often been unconsciously executed by benevolent persons. 
 Of this my sister Natalia is a distinguished example. Great 
 are the qualities with which nature has endowed that exalted 
 being. She deserves the honourable title, more, perhaps, 
 than even our noble aunt herself, who at the time when our 
 physician wrote his manuscript, was the most exalted being 
 that our circle contained. Since then, the character of 
 Natalia has gradually unfolded itself, and we may rejoice 
 that the world contains so perfect a being.' ' 
 
 He was about to continue, but Friedrich rushed into the 
 apartment, exclaiming, " What sort of garland have I 
 earned ? How will you reward me ? Myrtle, laurel, ivy 
 and oak the freshest you can find, come twine them to- 
 gether my varied services deserve a varied crown. Natalia 
 is yours. I am the enchanter who has won this treasure 
 for you." 
 
 "He is raving !" said "Wilhelm. " I must go." 
 
 " Do you speak with authority ?" inquired Lothario, 
 seizing Wilhelm by the arm. 
 
 " By my own authority," answered Friedrich, " and with 
 the grace of God. I was the wooer, and now I am the 
 messenger. I listened at the door she made a full con- 
 fession to the Abbe." 
 
 " Shame upon you !" said Lothario, " who bade you 
 listen ?" 
 
 "Who made her bolt the door ?" cried Friedrich. "I 
 heard it all plain enough. Natalia was deeply moved. In 
 the night, when Felix was so ill, and was lying -half in your 
 lap, whilst you sat by inconsolable, and shared the precious 
 burden she made a vow, that if the child should die, she 
 
APPRENTICESHIP. 569 
 
 would confess her love, and offer you her hand. A promise 
 of that nature must, you know, be kept under all circum- 
 stances. The clergyman will not be absent long, and guess 
 what news he will bring.* 1 
 
 The Abbe made his appearance. " We know it all," cried 
 Friedrich, " be as quick as possible, you only come as a 
 matter of form, you are not wanted for any thing further.*' 
 
 " He has listened!" said the Baron. 
 
 " Shameful !" exclaimed the Abbe. 
 
 " Now despatch us quickly !" continued Friedrich. 
 " What are our arrangements ? Let us enumerate them on 
 our fingers. First, you must travel. The invitation of the 
 Marquis comes most opportunely. Once across the Alps, 
 every thing will be right. People will thank you for under- 
 taking any thing uncommon. You provide them with 
 amusement for which they need not pay. It resembles a 
 free ball all ranks and classes may enjoy it." 
 
 "In truth," said the Abbe, "you have already done some 
 service to the public by such festivities, but it seems that 
 to-day you do not mean to let me utter a syllable." 
 
 " If it is not all as I have described it," said Friedrich, 
 "you may tell your own story. But come, come hither. 
 We must see them together." 
 
 Lothario embraced Wilhelm, and led him to Natalia. She 
 advanced to meet him, accompanied by Theresa. All were 
 silent. 
 
 " Let us have no delay," cried Friedrich. " In two days 
 you must be ready to set out upon your journey. What 
 do you think now, my friend ?" he continued, as he turned 
 to Wilhelm " did you suppose, when we first became ac- 
 quainted, and when I asked you for that beautiful bouquet, 
 that you would ever be indebted to me for so lovely a 
 flower?" 
 
 " Do not remind me of those days at this moment of in- 
 expressible happiness ?" 
 
 " Of which you need not be ashamed, any more than one 
 need blush at his descent. Those times were good, but I 
 rnimot help laughing when I see you. You remind me of 
 Saul, the son of Kish, who went to seek his lather's 
 and found a kingdom." 
 
570 WTLHELM ...-STEE. 
 
 " I do not know the value of a kingdom," said Wilhelm, 
 " but I know that I have found a happiness of which I am 
 not worthy, but which I would not exchange for the greatest 
 earthly bliss." 
 
 THE END 
 
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