GOETHE'S CORRESPONDENCE WITH A CHILD. THE contents of these volumes
are no less extraordinary than the title, though they are of a different nature front what it would lead us to expect ; for, instead of a " in the ordinary sense of the term, a little " miss in her teens " is the correspondent of the great GOETHE. But " Honi soit qui mat y pense ''—if ever love were purely Platonic, this is. The letters of the little BET- TIES are infantile only in their wild and playfel simplicity; her affection for GOETHE, though feminine is filial, and the senti- ment is as pure and innocent as it is ardent and frank-spoken; while GOETHE breathes corresponding feelings of paternal love and delight. As its motto says, " This book is for the good, and not for the bad:" and all who study human nature will find it interesting to read the heart of a guileless susceptible being, as it is unfolded with fearless and unreserved confidence in these letters, hallowed by GOETHE'S name.
Open to the charge of being somewhat too flattering and ego- tibody,e hainsileleN Letebnedgesrnly)e be ,,sqour ptstaay, its freshness, and the siva colouring of the descriptions, must be delightful earn to fastidious readers, who may deem the sentiment at times overwrought and puerile. A particle of affectation would destroy the charm, and make what is otherwise delicious nauseat- ing: but all is genuine and sincere, or GOETHE would not have been fascinated by it.
" The child " Born tso, a daughter of General BRENTANO, has since become a wife, we presume ; for she signs herself BET:INE ARNIM in the dedication to Prince PUCKLER, dated August 1834. The object of the publication is to contribute by the profits of the sale (which we are told has been very extensive in Ger- man)) to the fund for raising a inonument to GOETHE. The Child's acquaintance with GOETHE originated in an intimacy be- tween the two families, and commenced not only under the roof, but with the sanction of the mother of GOETHE. Frau RATH, as the old lady is called, appears, from a short introductory corre- spondence between her an BETTINE, then a wanton, mischievous, merry puss, to be a sensible, cheerful, and benevolent woman,— though the engraved profile in outline gives her face a tinge of melancholy. Frau RATH, however, now and then, in a good- natured way, checks the forwardness of the saucy spoiled child, who claims so much of her illustrious son's regard. BETTINE is a quick and clever, but artless girl, with a clear, and even penetrating understanding, for one so young, but withal as wayward and wilful as she is sensitive and ima- ginative. "Thou takest fancies," gently chides dear old Frau RATH, " and hast a constitution like iron, and an imagina- tion like a sky-rocket, that touched by a spark goes off." An " Iron constitution" BETTINE had need of, to enable her to indulge with impunity her vagrant fancy for climbing up trees, towers, and mountains, at all times and in all weathers. She is one of the happy few possessing " hearts at case and minds at leisure ;" and circumstances permitted her freely to give way to the most ex- travagant impulses: to love and be loved by GOETHE, and to write to and receive letters from him, was her ruling passion. GOETHE'S passive and condescending fondness, however, makes her now and then complain of his coldness. He seems a stately oak, and she the honeysuckle twining round it, and putting forth its fragrant flowers. "You are a coquettish, elegant writer," she says in one place, " but you are a cruel man." "Friendly as thou art, thou art also cold." " There is a silly peculiarity in men of becoming cold when one loves them too dearly."—Mark this, ye fair I and learn to moderate the excess of your love. More than once she reproaches him fur writing to her through his secretary. " Indifference," as she happily expresses it, " destroys the volatile salt of the mind, and makes luxe shy." Her style is poetically figu- rative throughout, and vividly graphic. "You let a complete picture- book of splendid and lovely scenes run, as it were, through your fingers," says GOETHE to her in one of his letters : and another begins thus, " It is still a question, dearest Bettine, whether one can with better reason call you odd, or wonderful; one considers at last only how to insure himself against the rapid flood of thy thoughts." The light in which the poet regarded his juvenile correspondent may be drawn from the following passage—" Write me all that passes in your mind : it will at all times be heartily received : your open-hearted chat is a genuine entertainment to me, and your confiding acquiescence outweighs all.' In proof of the extraordinary interest which GOETHE took in her letters, we are told, moreover, that " they are almost all corrected by kis hand : much is underlined with red ink, much with pencil : here parentheses, there erasures;" and that be said, "I read every day in them."
The volumes, of course, abound with traits of character and anecdotes of Goostio ; and interspersed are some amusing ac- counts of BETTINKS sentimental flirtations with other great men • of Germany, including the Prince Royal of Bavaria and the Em- peror CHARLES the Seventh, as well as others " illustrious" by something more than " courtesy." We give the following extracts, not so much as specimens of the Child's powers of description, as for the sake of the interest of the subjects.
RECEPTION OF MADAME. DE STAEL BY GOETHE'S MOTHER.
At last the long-expected one came through a suite of lighted apartments, accompanied by Benjamin Constant. She was dressed as Corinne,—a turban of aurora and orange-coloured silk, a dress of the same, with an orange tunic, girded so high as to leave little room for her heart ; her black brows and lashes glittered, as also her lips, with mysterious red ; her long gloves were drawn down, covering only her hand, in which she held the well. known laurel-sprig. As the apartment where she was expected lies much lower, she was obliged to descend four steps. Unfortunately she held up her dress before instead of be- hind : this gave her reception a terible blow ; it looked very odd, as, clad in complete Oriental style, she marched down towards the stiff dames of the ' virtue.enrolled Frankfort society. Your mother darted a few daring glances at me, whilst they were presented to each other. I had stationed myself apart to observe the whole scene. I perceived Madame de Stiles agtonishmeut at the remarkable decorations and dress of your mother ; who displayed an im- mense pride. She spread out her robe with her left hand ; with her right she saluted, playing with her fan, and bowing her head several times with great condescension ; and said with an elevated voice, "Jc solo la mere de Goethe." "Ah,je suis eharmee," answered the authoress ; and then followed a solemn stillness.
WINTER THE COMPOSER AND HIS PIGEONS.
Every-morning I pay my old Winter a visit. In fine weather he breakfasts in the garden-arbour with his wife ; then I must always settle the dispute be- A sentimental correspondence between two persons, even though tween them about the cream upon the milk. Theo he ascends his dovecot, Mess they be intellectual, not unfrequently proves tedious and mawkish he is : he must stoop to the ground ; a hundred pigeons flutter about him, slight tistical, and, moreover, very one-sided, the girl's letters of course hundreds more come tumbling in 'from without, with whistling wings, cooing whistle!" then and forto a third: but this, though trifling and wholly personal—nay, upon firiiieslande,ssb-eencia, being most frequent and voluminous—is unstudied and or iginal ; and fluttering about him. Then he is happy, and would like to compose music which should sound exactly so. As Winter is a zeal Colossus, he forms a toter-
able picture of the Nue, round which a little race craw Is, and I cowering near Lim like the Sphinx. a great basket full of vetches and peas upon my head. The!. Marcello's psalms are sung.
BEETHOVEN'S ENJOYMENT OF HIS OWN 311.'SiTo When I open my eyes I cannot but sigh, for what I see is against my reli-
gion ; and I am compelled to despise the world, which has no presentiment that music is a higher revelation than all their wisdom and philosophy : music is the wine which inspires new creations, and I sin the Bacchus who presses out this noble wine for mankind and makes them spirit-drunk ; and then when they are sober again, what have they not fished up to bring with them to dry land. I have no friend ; I must live with myself alone: but I well know that God is nearer to me in my art than to others; I commune with Him without dread- 1 have ever acknowledged and understood Him : neither hovel any fear for my music, it can meet no evil fate; he to whom it makes itself intelligible must become freed from all the wretchedness which others drag about with them." All this did Beethoven say to me the first time i saw him. A feeling of reve- rence penetrated me, as with such friendly openness he uttered his mind to me, who could have been only very unimportant to him. I was surprised, too, be- cause I had been told he was very shy, and conversed with no one. They were afraid to introduce me to him, and I was forced to find him out alone. He has three dwellings, in which he alternately secretes himself,—ore in the country, one in the town, and the third upon the bulwarks. Here 1 found him, upon the third boor : unannounced I entered : he was seated at the piano ; 1 men- tioned my name: he was very friendly, and asked if I would hear a song that he bad just composed? Then he sung shrill and piercing, so that the plain- tiveness reacted upon the hearer, " Knowst thou the land." " It's beautiful, is it not ?" said he, inspired, " most beautiful : I will sing it again." Hewes delighted at my cheerful praise. " Most men," said he, "ate touched by some- thing good, but they are not artist natures: artists are ardent, they do not weep." Theo he sung another of your songs, to which he had a few days ago composed music, " Dry not the tears of eternal love." He accompanied me home, and it was upon the way that he said so many beautiful things upon art : withal he spoke so loud, stool still so often upon the street, that some courage was necessary to listen ; he spoke passionately, and much too startlingly for me
• not also to forget that we were in the street. They were much surprised to see me enter with him in a large company assembled to dine with us. After dinner, he placed himself, unasked, at the instrument, and played long and wonderfully; his pride and genius were both in ferment : under such excitement his spirit creates the incooeeivable, and his fingers perform the impossible.
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