some subjects. For instance, I cannot
forgive him, especially at that period of German literature, for sending
back the manuscript of _Goetz von Berlichingen_ without any praise of
its merits, and with taunting remarks. He must have utterly wanted
organs to perceive some objects."

"Yes, Herder was unfortunate in this respect," replied Goethe; "nay,"
added he, with vivacity, "if his spirit were present at this
conversation, it would not understand us."

"On the other hand," said I, "I must praise Merck, who urged you to
print _Goetz_."

"He was indeed an odd but important man," said Goethe. "'Print the
thing,' quoth he, 'it is worth nothing, but print it.' He did not wish
me to make any alteration in it, and he was right; for it would have
been different, but not better."

_Wednesday, November 24_.--I went to see Goethe this evening, before
going to the theatre, and found him very well and cheerful. He inquired
about the young Englishmen who are here. I told him that I proposed
reading with Mr. Doolan a German translation of Plutarch. This led the
conversation to Roman and Grecian history; and Goethe expressed himself
as follows:

"The Roman history," said he, "is no longer suited to us. We have become
too humane for the triumphs of Caesar not to be repugnant to our
feelings. Neither are we much charmed by the history of Greece. When
this people turns against a foreign foe, it is, indeed, great and
glorious; but the division of the states, and their eternal wars with
one another, where Greek fights against Greek, are insufferable.
Besides, the history of our own time is thoroughly great and important;
the battles of Leipsic and Waterloo stand out with such prominence that
that of Marathon and others like it are gradually eclipsed. Neither are
our individual heroes inferior to theirs; the French Marshals, Bluecher,
and Wellington, vie with any of the heroes of antiquity."

We then talked of the late French literature, and the daily increasing
interest in German works manifested by the French.

"The French," said Goethe, "do well to study and translate our writers;
for, limited as they are both in form and motives, they can only look
without for means. We Germans may be reproached for a certain
formlessness; but in matter we are their superiors. The theatrical
productions of Kotzebue and Iffland are so rich in motives that they may
pluck them a long time before all is used up. But, especially, our
philosophical I