her evidence from his own hand that these years
were not years of unmingled happiness and of entirely auspicious
augury.

[Footnote 1: _Gespraeche mit Eckermann_, January 27th, 1824.]

In one circumstance, at least, Goethe appears to have considered
himself well treated by destiny. From the vivid and sympathetic
description he has given of his native city of Frankfort-on-the-Main
we may infer that he considered himself fortunate in the place of his
birth.[2] It is concurrent testimony that, at the date of Goethe's
birth, no German city could have offered greater advantages for the
early discipline of one who was to be Germany's national poet. Its
situation was central, standing as it did on the border line between
North and South Germany. No German city had a more impressive historic
past, the memorials of which were visible in imposing architectural
remains, in customs, and institutions. It was in Frankfort that for
generations the German Emperors had received their crowns; and the
spectacle of one of these ceremonies remained a vivid memory in
Goethe's mind throughout his long life. For the man Goethe the actual
present counted for more than the most venerable past;[3] and, as a
boy, he saw in Frankfort not only the reminders of former
generations, but the bustling activities of a modern society. The
spring and autumn fairs brought traders from all parts of Germany and
from the neighbouring countries; and ships from every part of the
globe deposited their miscellaneous cargoes on the banks of the river
Main. In the town itself there were sights fitted to stir youthful
imagination; and the surrounding country presented a prospect of
richness and variety in striking contrast to the tame environs of
Goethe's future home in Weimar. Dr. Arnold used to say that he knew
from his pupils' essays whether they had seen London or the sea,
because the sight of either of these objects seemed to suggest a new
measure of things. Frankfort, with its 30,000 inhabitants, with its
past memories and its bustling present, was at least on a sufficient
scale to suggest the conception of a great society developing its life
under modern conditions. For Goethe, who was to pass most of his days
in a town of some 7,000 inhabitants, and to whom no form of human
activity was indifferent, it was a fortunate destiny that he did not,
like Herder, pass his most receptive years in a petty village remote
from the movements of the great world.[4] In the