Goethe's father, who had studied law in Leipsic and practised it for awhile in Wetzlar, and had travelled in Italy, Holland, and France, so that in those days he appeared an exceptionally cultivated burgher, was a cold, stern, formal, somewhat pedantic, but truth-loving, upright-minded man. He hungered for knowledge; and, although in general of a laconic turn, freely imparted all he learned. In his domestic circle his word was law. Not only imperious, but in some respects capricious, he was nevertheless greatly respected, if little loved, by wife, children, and friends. He is characterised by Krause as ein geradliniger Frankfurter Reichsbürger—"a formal Frankfort citizen" whose habits were as measured as his gait.[1] From him the poet inherited the well-built frame, the erect carriage, and the measured movement, which in old age became stiffness, and was construed as diplomacy or haughtiness; from him also came that orderliness and stoicism which have so much distressed those who cannot conceive genius otherwise than as vagabond in its habits. The craving for knowledge, the delight in communicating it, the almost pedantic attention to details, which are noticeable in the poet, are all traceable in the father.
The mother was more like what we conceive as the proper parent for a poet. She is one of the pleasantest figures in German literature, and one standing out with greater vividness than almost any other. Her simple, hearty, joyous, and affectionate nature endeared her to all. She was the delight of children, the favourite of poets and princes. To the last retaining her enthusiasm and simplicity, mingled with great shrewd-
- ↑ Perhaps geradliniger might be translated as "an old square-toes," having reference to the antiquated cut of the old man's clothes. The fathers of the present generation dubbed the stiff coat of their grandfathers, with its square skirts and collars, by the name of magister matheseos, the name by which the Pythagorean proposition is known in Germany.
