“To make such ungrateful and unsuitable demands upon a poet is just as if one required the captain of a regiment to show himself a patriot, by taking part in political innovations and thus neglecting his proper calling.  The captain’s country is his regiment, and he will show himself an excellent patriot by troubling himself about political matters only so far as they concern him, and bestowing all his mind and all his care on the battalions under him, trying so to train and discipline them that they may do their duty if ever their native land should be in peril.

[Illustration:  THE MOAT AT JENA Drawing by GOETHE]

“I hate all bungling like sin, but most of all bungling in state-affairs, which produces nothing but mischief to thousands and millions.

“You know that, on the whole, I care little what is written about me; but yet it comes to my ears, and I know well enough that, hard as I have toiled all my life, all my labors are as nothing in the eyes of certain people, just because I have disdained to mingle in political parties.  To please such people I must have become a member of a Jacobin club, and preached bloodshed and murder.  However, not a word more upon this wretched subject, lest I become unwise in railing against folly.”

In the same manner he blamed the political course, so much praised by others, of Uhland.

“Mind,” said he, “the politician will devour the poet.  To be a member of the States, and to live amid daily jostlings and excitements, is not for the delicate nature of a poet.  His song will cease, and that is in some sort to be lamented.  Swabia has plenty of men, sufficiently well educated, well meaning, able, and eloquent, to be members of the States, but only one poet of Uhland’s class.”

* * * * *

The last stranger whom Goethe entertained as his guest was the eldest son of Frau von Arnim; the last words he wrote were some verses in the album of this young friend.

* * * * *

The morning after Goethe’s death, a deep desire seized me to look once again upon his earthly garment.  His faithful servant, Frederic, opened for me the chamber in which he was laid out.  Stretched upon his back, he reposed as if asleep; profound peace and security reigned in the features of his sublimely noble countenance.  The mighty brow seemed yet to harbor thoughts.  I wished for a lock of his hair; but reverence prevented me from cutting it off.  The body lay naked, wrapped only in a white sheet; large pieces of ice had been placed near it, to keep it fresh as long as possible.  Frederic drew aside the sheet, and I was astonished at the divine magnificence of the limbs.  The breast was powerful, broad, and arched; the arms and thighs were full, and softly muscular; the feet were elegant, and of the most perfect shape; nowhere, on the whole body, was there a trace either of fat or of leanness and decay.  A perfect man lay in great beauty before me; and the rapture which the sight caused made me forget for a moment that the immortal spirit had left such an abode.  I laid my hand on his heart—­there was a deep silence—­and I turned away to give free vent to my suppressed tears.