Lotte. Her portrait too shall away from my bedroom the day of her marriage, and shall not be restored till I hear she is a mother; and from that moment a new epoch begins, in which I shall not love her but her children, a little indeed on her account, but that's nothing to do with it; and if you ask me to be godfather, my spirit shall rest upon the boy, and he shall make a fool of himself for a maiden like his mother.' Enclosed was this note to Lotte: May my memory with this ring forever remain with you in your happiness. Dear Lotte, some time hence we shall see each other again, you with this ring on your finger, and I as always thine. I know no name or bye-name to sign this with. You know me.' When the marriage takes place he writes to Kestner. 'God bless you; you have surprised me. I had meant to make a holy sepulchre on Good Friday, and bury Lotte's portrait. But it hangs still by my bed, and shall remain there till I die. Be happy. Greet for me your angel, and Lenchen; she shall be the second Lotte, and it shall be as well with her. I wander in the desert where no water is, my hair is my shade, and my blood my spring.' The bridesmaid brings him the bridal bouquet, a flower of which he sticks in his hat, as he walks to Darmstadt, in a melancholy mood; but to show that his passion for Charlotte was after all only a poetic passion, here is a passage in the letter he sent to Kestner immediately after the marriage: 'O Kestner, when have I envied you Lotte in the human sense? for not to envy you her in the spiritual sense I must be an angel without lungs and liver. Nevertheless I must disclose a secret to you. That you may know and behold. When I attached myself to Lotte, and you know that I was attached to her from my heart, Born talked to me about it, as people are wont to talk. should not like it. How can it end?

"If I were K. I

You quite cut him

out!" and the like. Then I said to him in these very words, in his room, it was in the morning: "The fact is, I am fool enough to think the girl something remarkable ; if she deceived me, and turned out to be as girls usually are, and used K. as capital in order to make the most of her charms, the first moment which discovered that to me, the first moment which brought her nearer to me, would be the last of our acquaintance," and this I protested and swore. And between ourselves, without boasting, I understand the maiden somewhat, and you know how I have felt for her and for everything she has seen and touched, and wherever she has been, and shall continue to feel to the end of the world. And now see how far I am envious, and must be so. For either I am a fool, which it is difficult to believe, or she is the subtlest deceiver, or then-Lotte, the very Lotte of whom we are speaking.' A few days afterwards he writes: 'My poor existence is petrified to barren rock. This summer I lose all. Merck goes. My sister too. And I am alone.'

The marriage of Cornelia, his much-loved sister, was to him a very serious matter, and her loss was not easily supplied. It came, too, at a time when other losses pained him. Lotte was married, Merck was away, and a dear friend had just died. Nevertheless he seems to have been active in plans. Among them was most probably that of a drama on Mahomet, which he erroneously places at a later period, after the journeys with Lavater and Basedow, but which Schäfer, very properly, restores to the year 1773, as Boie's Annual for 1774 contains the Mahomet's song, — all that was written, except the plan. Goethe has narrated in full the conception of this piece, which is very grand; he tells us the idea arose within him of illustrating the sad fact, noticeable in the biographies of genius, that very man who attempts to realize a great idea comes in

contact with the lower world, and must place himself on its level in order to influence it, and thus compromises. his higher aims and finally forfeits them. He chose Mahomet as the illustration, never having regarded him as an imposter. He had carefully studied the Koran and Mahomet's life, in preparation. The piece,' he says, 'opened with a hymn sung by Mahomet alone under the open sky. He first adores the innumerable stars as so many gods; but as the star god (Jupiter) rises, he offers to him, as the king of the stars, exclusive adoration. Soon after, the moon ascends the horizon, and claims the eye and heart of the worshipper, who, refreshed and strengthened by the dawning sun, is afterwards stimulated to new praises. But these changes, however delightful, are still unsatisfactory, and the mind feels that it must rise still higher, and mounts therefore to God, the One Eternal, Infinite, to whom all these splendid but finite creatures owe their existence. I composed this hymn with great delight; it is now lost, but might easily be restored as a cantata, and is adapted for music by the variety of its expression. It would, however, be necessary to imagine it sung according to the original plan, by the leader of a caravan with his family and tribe; and thus the alternation of the voices and the strength of the chorus would be secured.

'Mahomet converted, imparts these feelings and sentiments to his friends; his wife and Ali become unconditional disciples. In the second act, he attempts to propagate this faith in the tribe; Ali still more zealously. Assent and opposition display themselves according to the variety of character. The contest begins, the strife becomes violent, and Mahomet flies. In the third act, he defeats his enemies, makes his religion the public one, and purifies the Kaaba from idols; but this being impracticable by force, he is obliged to resort to cunning. What in his character

is earthly increases and developes itself; the divine retires and is obscured. In the fourth act, Mahomet pursues his conquests, his doctrine becomes a means rather than an end, all kinds of practices are employed, nor are horrors wanting. A woman, whose husband has been condemned by Mahomet, poisons him. In the fifth act he feels that he is poisoned. His great calmness, the return to himself and to his better nature, make him worthy of admiration. He purifies his doctrine, establishes his kingdom, and dies.

This sketch long occupied my mind; for, according to my custom, I was obliged to let the conception perfect itself before I commenced the execution. All that genius, through character and intellect, can exercise over mankind, was therein to be represented, and what it gains and loses in the process. Several of the songs to be introduced in the drama, were rapidly composed; the only one. remaining of them, however, is the Mahomet's Gesang. This was to be sung by Ali, in honor of his master, at the apex of his success, just before the change resulting from the poison.' Of al! his unrealized schemes, this causes me the greatest regret. In grandeur, depth, and in the opportunities for subtle psychological unravelment of the mysteries of our nature, it was a scheme peculiarly suited to his genius. How many Clavigos and Stellas would one not have given for such a poem ?

This Mahomet it is, if my suspicion be correct, to which he refers in a letter to Kestner, July, 1773: I am working my experience into a drama for the consolation of gods and men. I know what Lotte will say when she sees it, and I know what I shall answer her.' If this does not refer to Mahomet it must refer to Werther; but in this case we must place the composition of Werther earlier than other evidence would indicate, and reject his state

ment that it was written in four weeks of uninterrupted excitement.

Maximiliane Laroche had recently married Brentano, a Frankfurt merchant, a widower with five children, and many years her senior. Goethe became intimate at their house; and, as Merck writes, 'il joue avec les enfans et accompagne le clavecin de madame avec la basse. M. Brentano, quoique assez jaloux pour un Italien, l'aime et veut absolument qu'il fréquente la maison.' The husband wanted his presence, often as an umpire in the disputes with his wife; and the wife, also, chose him umpire with her husband; nay, Merck hints, il a la petite Madame. Brentano à consoler sur l'odeur de l'huile, du fromage, et des manières de son mari.' So passed autumn and winter, in a tender relation, such as in those days was thought blameless enough, but such as modern writers cannot believe to have been so blameless. For my part, I cannot disbelieve his own word on this matter, when he says, ' My former relation to the young wife, which was, properly speaking, only that of a brother to a sister, was resumed after marriage. Being of her own age, I was the only one in whom she heard an echo of those voices to which she had been accustomed in her youth. We lived in childish confidence; and, although there was nothing passionate in our intercourse, it was painful, because she was unable to reconcile herself to her new condition.' If not passionate, the relation was certainly sentimental and dangerous. Hear how he writes to Frau Jacobi: 'It goes well with me, dear lady, and thanks for your double, triple letter. The last three weeks there has been nothing but excitement, and now we are as contented and happy as possible. I say we, for since the 15th of January not a branch of my existence has been solitary. And Fate, which I have so often vituperated, is now courteously en