I returned to it three times. _Torquato Tasso_, too, has afforded me
much enjoyment. Now I am reading _Faust_, but find that it is somewhat
difficult."

Goethe laughed at these last words. "Really," said he, "I would
not have advised you to undertake _Faust_. It is mad stuff, and
goes quite beyond all ordinary feeling. But since you have done it of
your own accord, without asking my advice, you will see how you will get
through. Faust is so strange an individual that only few can sympathize
with his internal condition. Then the character of Mephistopheles is, on
account of his irony, and also because he is a living result of an
extensive acquaintance with the world, also very difficult. But you will
see what lights open upon you. _Tasso_, on the other hand, lies far
nearer the common feelings of mankind, and the elaboration of its form
is favorable to an easy comprehension of it."

"Yet," said Mr. H., "_Tasso_ is thought difficult in Germany, and people
have wondered to hear me say that I was reading it."

"What is chiefly needed for _Tasso_," replied Goethe, "is that one
should be no longer a child, and should have been in good society. A
young man of good family, with sufficient mind and delicacy, and also
with enough outward culture, such as will be produced by intercourse
with accomplished men of the higher class, will not find' Tasso
difficult."

The conversation turning upon _Egmont_, he said, "I wrote _Egmont_ in
1775--fifty years ago. I adhered closely to history, and strove to be as
accurate as possible. Ten years afterwards, when I was in Rome, I read
in the newspapers that the revolutionary scenes in the Nether lands
there described were exactly repeated. I saw from this that the world
remains ever the same, and that my picture must have some life in it."

Amid this and similar conversation, the hour for the theatre had come.
We arose, and Goethe dismissed us in a friendly manner.

As we went homeward, I asked Mr. H. how he was pleased with Goethe. "I
have never," said he, "seen a man who, with all his attractive
gentleness, had so much native dignity. However he may condescend, he is
always the great man."

Professor Riemer was announced, Rehbein took leave, and Riemer sat down
with us. The conversation still turned on the _motives_ of the Servian
love-poems. Riemer was acquainted with the topic, and made the remark
that, according to the table of contents given above, not only could
poems be made,