Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 12.djvu/20

14 if it were a perfect type. It is, however, only such works of art as bespeak genius and feeling, that have any charms for me. Those cold imitations which confine themselves to the narrow circle of a certain meagre mannerism, of mere painstaking diligence, are to me utterly intolerable. You see, therefore, that my delight and taste cannot well be riveted by a work of art, unless it imitates such objects of nature as are well known to me; so that I am able to test the imitation by my own experience of the originals. Landscape, with all that lives and moves therein; flowers and fruit-trees; Gothic churches; a portrait taken directly from Nature,—all this I can recognise, feel, and, if you like, judge of. Honest W—— amused himself with this trait of my character, and, in such a way that I could not be offended, often made merry with it at my expense. He sees much farther in this matter than I, and I shall always prefer that people should laugh at me while they instruct than that they should praise without benefiting me. He had noticed what things I was most immediately pleased with, and, after a short acquaintance, did not hesitate to avow, that, in the objects that so transported me, there might be much that was truly estimable, and which time alone would enable me to distinguish.

But I turn from this subject, and must now, however circuitously, come to the matter, which, though reluctantly, I cannot but confide to you. I can see you in your room, in your little garden, where, over a pipe of tobacco, you will probably break the seal, and read this letter. Can your thoughts follow me into this free and motley world? Will the circumstances and true state of the case become clear to your imagination? And will you be as indulgent toward your absent friend as I have often found you when present?

When my artistic friend became better acquainted with me, and judged me worthy of being gradually