shunned： a 'denkmal' of the Franco…German war； not so furiously bad as
most German monuments； but antipathetic and uninteresting； as all
patriotic monuments are； and a woman…and…dog team。 In the shock from
this he was sensible that he had not seen any woman…and…dog teams for
some time； and he wondered by what civic or ethnic influences their
distribution was so controlled that they should have abounded in Hamburg；
Leipsic； and Carlsbad； and wholly ceased in Nuremberg； Ansbach； and
Wurzburg； to reappear again in Weimar； though they seemed as
characteristic of all Germany as the ugly denkmals to her victories over
France。
The Goethe and Schiller monument which he had glimpsed the night before
was characteristic too； but less offensively so。 German statues at the
best are conscious； and the poet…pair； as the inscription calls them；
have the air of showily confronting posterity with their clasped hands；
and of being only partially rapt from the spectators。 But they were more
unconscious than any other German statues that March had seen； and he
quelled a desire to ask Goethe； as he stood with his hand on Schiller's
shoulder； and looked serenely into space far above one of the typical
equipages of his country； what he thought of that sort of thing。 But
upon reflection he did not know why Goethe should be held personally
responsible for the existence of the woman…and…dog team。 He felt that he
might more reasonably attribute to his taste the prevalence of classic
profiles which he began to note in the Weimar populace。 This could be a
sympathetic effect of that passion for the antique which the poet brought
back with him from his sojourn in Italy； though many of the people；
especially the children； were bow…legged。 Perhaps the antique had： begun
in their faces； and had not yet got down to their legs； in any case they
were charming children； and as a test of their culture； he had a mind to
ask a little girl if she could tell him where the statue of Herder was；
which he thought he might as well take in on his ramble； and so be done
with as many statues as he could。 She answered with a pretty regret in
her tender voice； 〃That I truly cannot；〃 and he was more satisfied than
if she could； for he thought it better to be a child and honest； than to
know where any German statue was。
He easily found it for himself in the place which is called the Herder
Platz after it。 He went into the Peter and Paul Church there； where
Herder used to preach sermons； sometimes not at all liked by the nobility
and gentry for their revolutionary tendency； the sovereign was shielded
from the worst effects of his doctrine by worshipping apart from other
sinners in a glazed gallery。 Herder is buried in the church； and when
you ask where； the sacristan lifts a wooden trap…door in the pavement；
and you think you are going down into the crypt； but you are only to see
Herder's monumental stone； which is kept covered so to save it from
passing feet。 Here also is the greatest picture of that great soul Luke
Kranach； who had sincerity enough in his paining to atone for all the
swelling German sculptures in the world。 It is a crucifixion； and the
cross is of a white birch log； such as might have been cut out of the
Weimar woods； shaved smooth on the sides； with the bark showing at the
edges。 Kranach has put himself among the spectators； and a stream of
blood from the side of the Savior falls in baptism upon the painter's
head。 He is in the company of John the Baptist and Martin Luther； Luther
stands with his Bible open； and his finger on the line； 〃The blood of
Jesus cleanseth us。〃
Partly because he felt guilty at doing all these things without his wife；
and partly because he was now very hungry； March turned from them and got
back to his hotel； where she was looking out for him from their open
window。 She had the air of being long domesticated there； as she laughed
down at seeing him come； and the continued brilliancy of the weather
added to the illusion of home。
It was like a day of late spring in Italy or America； the sun in that
gardened hollow before the museum was already hot enough to make him glad
of the shelter of the hotel。 The summer seemed to have come back to
oblige them； and when they learned that they were to see Weimar in a
festive mood because this was Sedan Day； their curiosity； if not their
sympathy； accepted the chance gratefully。 But they were almost moved to
wish that the war had gone otherwise when they learned that all the
public carriages were engaged； and they must have one from a stable if
they wished to drive after breakfast。 Still it was offered them for such
a modest number of marks； and their driver proved so friendly and
conversable； that they assented to the course of history； and were more
and more reconciled as they bowled along through the grand…ducal park
beside the waters of the classic Ilm。
The waters of the classic Ilm are sluggish and slimy in places； and in
places clear and brooklike； but always a dull dark green in color。 They
flow in the shadow of pensive trees； and by the brinks of sunny meadows；
where the after…math wanders in heavy windrows； and the children sport
joyously over the smooth…mown surfaces in all the freedom that there is
in Germany。 At last； after immemorial appropriation the owners of the
earth are everywhere expropriated； and the people come into the pleasure
if not the profit of it。 At last； the prince； the knight； the noble
finds； as in his turn the plutocrat will find； that his property is not
for him； but for all； and that the nation is to enjoy what he takes from
it and vainly thinks to keep from it。 Parks； pleasaunces； gardens； set
apart for kings； are the play…grounds of the landless poor in the Old
World； and perhaps yield the sweetest joy of privilege to some state…sick
ruler； some world…weary princess； some lonely child born to the solitude
of sovereignty； as they each look down from their palace windows upon the
leisure of overwork taking its little holiday amidst beauty vainly
created for the perpetual festival of their empty lives。
March smiled to think that in this very Weimar； where sovereignty had
graced and ennobled itself as nowhere else in the world by the
companionship of letters and the arts； they still were not hurrying first
to see the palace of a prince； but were involuntarily making it second to
the cottage of a poet。 But in fact it is Goethe who is forever the
prince in Weimar。 His greatness blots out its history； his name fills
the city； the thought of him is its chiefest imitation and largest
hospitality。 The travellers remembered； above all other facts of the
grand…ducal park； that it was there he first met Christiane Vulpius；
beautiful and young； when he too was beautiful and young； and took her
home to be his love； to the just and lasting displeasure of Fran von
Stein； who was even less reconciled when； after eighteen years of due
reflection； the love of Goethe and Christiane became their marriage。
They； wondered just where it was he saw the young girl coming to meet him
as the Grand…Duke's minister with an office…seeking petition from her
brother； Goethe's brother author； long famed and long forgotten for his
romantic tale of 〃Rinaldo Rinaldini。〃
They had indeed no great mind； in their American respectability； for that
rather matter…of…fact and deliberate liaison； and little as their
sympathy was for the passionless intellectual intrigue with the Frau von
Stein； it cast no halo of sentiment about the Goethe cottage to suppose
that there his love…life with Christiane began。 Mrs。 March even resented
the fact； and when she learned later that it was not the fact at all； she
removed it from her associations with the pretty place almost
indignantly。
In spite of our facile and multiple divorces we Americans are worshipers
of marriage； and if a great poet； the minister of a prince； is going to
marry a poor girl； we think he had better not wait till their son is
almost of age。 Mrs。 March would not accept as extenuating circumstances
the Grand…Duke's godfatherhood； or Goethe's open constancy to Christiane；
or the tardy consecration of their union after the French sack of；
Weimar； when the girl's devotion had saved him from the rudeness of the
marauding soldiers。 For her New England soul there were no degrees in
such guilt； and； perhaps there are really not so many as people have
tried to think； in their deference to Goethe's greatness。 But certainly
the affair was not so simple for a grand…ducal minister of world…wide
renown； and he might well have felt its difficulties； for he could not
have been proof against the censorious public opinion of Weimar； or the
yet more censorious private opinion of Fran von Stein。
On that lovely Italo…American morning no ghost of these old dead
embarrassments lingered within or without the Goethe garden…house。
The trees which the poet himself planted flung a sun…shot shadow upon it；
and about its feet basked a garden of simple flowers； from which the
sweet lame girl who limped through the rooms and showed them； gathered a
parting nosegay for her visitors。 The few small livingrooms were above
the ground…floor； with kitchen and offices below in the Italian fashion；
in one of the little chambers was the camp…bed which Goethe carried with
him on his journeys through Italy； and in the larger room at the front
stood the desk where he wrote； with the chair before it from which he
might just have risen。
All was much more livingly conscious of the great man gone than the proud
little palace in the town； which so abounds with relics and memorials of
him。 His library； his study； his study table； with everything on it just
as he left it when
〃Cadde la stanca mana。〃
are there； and there is the death…chair facing the window； from which he
gasped for 〃more light〃 at last。 The handsome； well…arranged rooms are
full of souvenirs of his travel； and of that passion for Italy which he
did so much to impart to all German hearts； and whose modern waning
leaves its records here of an interest pathetically； almost amusingly；
faded。 They intimate the classic temper to which his mind