tion of Catholicism were due rather to his
attachment to the old works of art than to that particular system of
faith and worship. The Romish church was the conservator of the
art-triumphs of the Middle Ages. She laid great store by her paintings
and statuary, and had been the patroness of the arts ever since the
wealth of noblemen and kings began to be poured into her lap. Goethe
loved her because she loved art. The key to this only evidence of
religious principle lies in his own words, as he once expressed himself
on contemplating a painting of the old German school. "Down to the
period of the Reformation," he said, "a spirit of indescribable
sweetness, solace, and hope seems to live and breathe in all these
paintings--everything in them seems to announce the kingdom of heaven.
_But since the Reformation, something painful, desolate, almost evil
characterizes works of art; and, instead of faith, skepticism, is often
transparent._"

Our plan precludes an estimate of Goethe's literary achievements. But
the influence of his productions on theology was, in the main, as
destructive as if he had written nothing but uncompromising Rationalism.
He was the head of the Weimar family. He had a cool, careful judgment.
Schiller was excitable and impulsive; but Goethe was always stoical,
regarding holy things as convenient for the more rapid advance of
civilization, but not absolutely necessary for the salvation of the
soul. He directed the literature of Europe. In popularity Schiller was
his peer, yet in real power over the minds and lives of others no one
was a match for Goethe. Other men at Weimar, such as Wieland, Knebel,
and Jean Paul, were admired, but Goethe was the cynosure of all eyes. He
was always thinking what next to write, and when he issued a new play,
poem, or romance, a sensation was made wherever the German and French
tongues were spoken.

Contemporaneously with these literary influences, which greatly
increased the power and prestige of Rationalism, there was a gradual
transformation of the training and instruction of the children of
Germany. A thorough infusion of doubt into the minds of the youth of the
land was all that was now needed to complete the sovereignty of
skepticism.

It cannot be disputed that there were serious defects in the educational
system already prevalent. The Latin schools instituted by Melanchthon
were still in existence, but they had become mere machines. Children
were compelled to co