with it instead of a good interpreter.  But as for Greek, Latin, Italian, and Spanish, we can read the best works of those nations in such excellent German translations, that, unless we have some particular object in view, we need not spend much time upon the toilsome study of those languages.  It is in the German nature duly to honor, after its kind, everything produced by other nations, and to accommodate itself to foreign peculiarities.  This, with the great flexibility of our language, makes German translations thoroughly faithful and complete.  And it is not to be denied that, in general, you get on very far with a good translation.  Frederick the Great did not know Latin, but he read Cicero in the French translation with as much profit as we who read him in the original.”

Then, turning the conversation on the theatre, he asked Mr. H. whether he went frequently thither.  “Every evening,” he replied, “and find that I thus gain much towards the understanding of the language.”

“It is remarkable,” said Goethe, “that the ear, and generally the understanding, gets the start of speaking; so that a man may very soon comprehend all he hears, but by no means express it all.”

“I experience daily,” said Mr. H., “the truth of that remark.  I understand very well whatever I hear or read; I even feel when an incorrect expression is made use of in German.  But when I speak, nothing will flow, and I cannot express myself as I wish.  In light conversation at court, jests with the ladies, a chat at balls, and the like, I succeed pretty well.  But, if I try to express an opinion on any important topic, to say anything peculiar or luminous, I cannot get on.”

“Be not discouraged by that,” said Goethe, “since it is hard enough to express such uncommon matters in one’s own mother tongue.”

He then asked what Mr. H. read in German literature.  “I have read Egmont,” he replied, “and found so much pleasure in the perusal that 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.”