The Sixth Book of my novel has made a good impression here also; to be sure, the poor reader never knows what he is about with works of this kind, for he does not consider that he would probably never take them up had not the author contrived to get the better of his thinking powers, his feelings, and his curiosity.

Your testimony in favor of my tale I prize very highly, and I shall henceforth work with more confidence at this species of composition.

The last volume of my novel cannot in any case appear before Michaelmas; it would be well if we could arrange the plans we lately discussed in reference to this.

My new story can, I think, hardly be ready by December, and, moreover, I can scarcely venture to pass on to it till I have, in some way or other, written something in explanation of the first.  If, by December, I could write something of this kind neatly, I should be very glad of thus being able to give you a contribution for next year’s opening number.  Farewell.  May we long enjoy having around us those who are nearest and dearest to us.  Toward New Year’s I hope again to spend some time with you.

* * * * *

SCHILLER to GOETHE

Jena, July 2, 1796.

I have now run through all the eight Books of your novel, very hurriedly, it is true, but the subject-matter alone is so large that I could scarcely get through it in two days’ reading.  Properly speaking, therefore, I ought not to say anything about it even today, for the surprising and unparalleled variety which is therein concealed—­in the strictest sense of the word—­is overpowering.  I confess that what I have as yet grasped correctly is but the continuity, not the unity, although I do not for a moment doubt that I shall become perfectly clear on this point also, if, as I think, in works of this kind, the continuity is more than half the unity.

As, under the circumstances, you cannot exactly expect to receive from me anything thoroughly satisfactory and yet wish to hear something, you must be content with a few remarks; these, however, are not altogether without value, inasmuch as they will tell of direct impressions.  To make up for this, I promise you that our discussions about your novel shall continue throughout the month.  To give an adequate and truly esthetic estimate of a whole work, as a work of art, is a serious undertaking.  I shall devote the whole of the next four months to it, and that with pleasure.  Besides this, it is one of the greatest blessings of my existence that I have lived to see this work of yours completed, that it has been written while my faculties are still in a state of growth, and that I may draw inspiration from this pure source; further, the beautiful relation that exists between us makes it seem to me a kind of religious duty to call your cause my own, and to develop all that is real in my nature so fully that my mind may become the clearest mirror of what exists beneath this covering, and that I may deserve the name of being your friend in the higher sense of the word.  How vividly have I felt, at this time, that excellence is a power, that it can influence selfish natures only as a power, and that, as contrasted with excellence, there is no freedom but love!