anywhere a
disserviceable condition, when I could make it serviceable? Not in full
view of the fact that all which thwarts the inward being of another
thwarts me. If there be in the world a man who might write a grand book,
but through ill conditions cannot write it, then in me and you a door
will remain closed, which might have opened--who knows upon what
treasure? With the high ends of life before him, no man can _afford_ to
be selfish. With the fact before him that formal civilization is
instrumental, no man can afford to run away from it. With the fact in
view that each man needs every other, and needs that every other should
do and be the best he can, no one can afford to withhold help, where it
can be rendered. Finally, seeing that means are limited, and that the
means and services which are crammed into others, without being
spiritually assimilated, breed only indigestion, no one must throw his
services about at random, but see where Nature has prepared the way for
him, and there in modesty do what he can.

To strike the connection, then, between the inward and the outward,
between the spiritual and the conventional, between man and society,
between moral possibility and formal civilization,--to give growth, with
all its immortal issues, a place, and means, and opportunity,--this was
Goethe's aim; and if the execution be less than perfect, as I admit, it
yet suggests the whole; and if the shortcoming be due in part to his
personal imperfections, which doubtless may be affirmed, it yet does not
mar the sincerity of his effort. His hand trembles, his aim is not
nicely sure, but it is an aim at the right object nevertheless.

There are limits and conditions in man, as well as around him, to which
the like justice is done. Such are Special Character, Natural Degree and
Vocation, Moral Imperfection, and Limitation of Self-Knowledge. Each of
these plays a part of vast importance in life; each is portrayed and
used in Goethe's picture. But, though with reluctance, I must merely
name and pass them by. Enough to say here, that he sees them and sees
through them. Enough that they appear, and as means and material. Nor
does he merely distinguish and harp upon them, after the hard analytic
fashion one would use here; but, as the violinist sweeps all the strings
of his instrument, not to show that one sounds _so_ and another _so_,
but out of all to bring a complete melody, so does this master touch the
chords of life, and,