with
respect to the details of dramatic development, there is not a touch
that does not seem designed for the stage."

"It was a very good piece in its time," said Goethe, "and caused us many
a pleasant evening. It was, indeed, excellently cast, and had been so
admirably studied that the dialogue moved along as glibly as possible.
Malcolmi played Maerten, and nothing could be more perfect.

"The part of Schnaps," said I, "seems to me no less felicitous. Indeed,
I should not think there were many better or more thankful parts in the
repertoire. There is in this personage, as in the whole piece, a
clearness, an actual presence, to the utmost extent that can be desired
for a theatre. The scene where he comes in with the knapsack, and
produces the things one after another, where he puts the _moustache_ on
Maerten, and decks himself with the cap of liberty, uniform, and sword,
is among the best." "This scene," said Goethe, "used always to be very
successful on our stage. Then the knapsack, with the articles in it, had
really an historical existence. I found it in the time of the
Revolution, on my travels along the French border, when the emigrants,
on their flight, had passed through, and one of them might have lost it
or thrown it away. The articles it contained were just the same as in
the piece. I wrote the scene upon it, and the knapsack, with all its
appurtenances, was always introduced, to the no small delight of our
actors."

The question whether the _Buergergeneral_ could still be played with any
interest or profit, was for a while the subject of our conversation.

Goethe then asked about my progress in French literature, and I told him
that I still took up Voltaire from time to time, and that the great
talent of this man gave me the purest delight.

"I still know but little of him," said I; "I keep to his short poems
addressed to persons, which I read over and over again, and which I
cannot lay aside."

"Indeed," said Goethe, "all is good which is written by so great a
genius as Voltaire, though I cannot excuse all his profanity. But you
are right to give so much time to those little poems addressed to
persons; they are unquestionably among the most charming of his works.
There is not a line which is not full of thought, clear, bright, and
graceful."

"And we see," said I, "his relations to all the great and mighty of the
world, and remark with pleasure the distinguished position taken by
himself, inasmuch