science made him study the
administration of the mines of the duchy with care and in detail, and
when, afterward, he gave up other official cares, he retained the
administration of the Department of the Mines. To persons studying his
style it is worthy of remark, that the best habits of a man of affairs
may be noted all through his work, whether scientific, speculative,
poetical, or indeed, in whatever form it takes. There is never
anything which a critic of our time would call "gush," or "padding,"
or "slip-slop." He advances on his purpose, whatever that purpose is,
with the directness of an engineer pressing the attack of a fortress,
or of an architect making the specifications for a building.

Meanwhile, for the relaxation or diversion of life, there was a
passion, more or less real, which bound him to the Baroness von Stein,
the wife of the Master of the Horse; there was the direction of the
theatre and music of the court, and occasional journeys, generally
incognito, with the Duke Karl August. A favorite entertainment was in
private theatricals, which were indeed the rage in the little circle.
The duchess acted, and everybody, even of the highest rank, was glad
to be enrolled in the troupe, which was directed by Goethe. Eager for
the applauses of other audiences than the favored circle at Weimar,
the company went about, almost like a troupe of gypsies, from one to
another of the country homes of the neighborhood. In all our modern
ridicule of the Duchy of Pompernickel, and the like, it is hard to
find anything more absurd than these accounts of the best way which
the leaders of the state found for the occupation of their time, and
for the edification of their people. The private theatricals of this
court, however, will be long remembered, because the rollicking
experiences of these parties, which were a sort of picnics in a
courtly style, give the framework, or machinery for the story of
"Wilhelm Meister."

This famous and remarkable book was begun soon after Goethe went to
Weimar. But it was not published until 1795, after Goethe had spent
more than a year in Italy, a period which marked a crisis in his life.
In ten months' hard study of painting in Rome, he satisfied himself,
at last, that he should never be a painter. It seems strange now to
say, that until then, he had diligently nursed the hope that as a
painter he should achieve great success. In Italy he looked at the
petty court of Weimar from a point di