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Updated: May 7, 2025
Prim sent Salazar, a Spanish gentleman, to Germany with a semi-official commission to invite the Prince to become a candidate, and gave him a letter to a German acquaintance who would procure him an introduction to the Prince. This German acquaintance was no other than Herr von Werther, Prussian Ambassador at Vienna.
But she did not drop the subject. 'You said something to Professor Madgwick the other day about a line of Goethe you used to like so when you were a boy. What did it mean? She flushed, as though she were venturing on something which would make her ridiculous. 'A line of Goethe? repeated David, pondering. 'Oh! I know. Yes, it was a line from Goethe's novel of "Werther."
Carlyle is, here and there, led astray by the love of contrast; but not even Heinrich Heine has employed antithesis with more effect than in the familiar passage on the sleeping city in Sartor, beginning, "Ach mein Lieber ... it is a true sublimity to dwell here," and ending, "But I, mein Werther, sit above it all. I am alone with the stars."
I know that 'Werther' has become the favorite of the reading public; he has opened all the tear-ducts and made all lovers of moonlight as soft as a swaddling-cloth. I could punish myself for having written 'Werther." Frau Karschin laughed aloud. "That is glorious! You please me! You are a famous poet and a genius, for only geniuses can revise and ridicule themselves.
The statement doubtless reflected something of "The Sorrows of Werther," but the entire tone was nobler and more highly socialized. It is difficult to illustrate what might be accomplished by reducing to action the ardor of those youths who so bitterly arraign our present industrial order.
They gave birth to "Götz von Berlichingen" and the "Sorrows of Werther," to the first inception of "Faust," and to many of his sweetest lyrics.
The phrase has long since been used, now in ridicule and now seriously, quite as much in discussions of the working of the human heart as to express the relations of acids and alkalies. It would be very hard to persuade the young people of to-day to read "The Sorrows of Werther."
At this Werther became enraged, and took his leave in great anger, after the judge had more than once assured him that the prisoner could not be saved. The excess of his grief at this assurance may be inferred from a note we have found amongst his papers, and which was doubtless written upon this very occasion. "You cannot be saved, unfortunate man! I see clearly that we cannot be saved!"
About the beginning of December a new period opens in the story of the poet's random affections. He met at a tea party one Mrs. Agnes M'Lehose, a married woman of about his own age, who, with her two children, had been deserted by an unworthy husband. She had wit, could use her pen, and had read "Werther" with attention. Sociable, and even somewhat frisky, there was a good, sound, human kernel in the woman; a warmth of love, strong dogmatic religious feeling, and a considerable, but not authoritative, sense of the proprieties. Of what biographers refer to daintily as "her somewhat voluptuous style of beauty," judging from the silhouette in Mr. Scott Douglas's invaluable edition, the reader will be fastidious if he does not approve. Take her for all in all, I believe she was the best woman Burns encountered. The pair took a fancy for each other on the spot; Mrs. M'Lehose, in her turn, invited him to tea; but the poet, in his character of the Old Hawk, preferred a tête-
At one moment she felt anxious that the servant should remain in the adjoining room, then she changed her mind. Werther, meanwhile, walked impatiently up and down. She went to the piano, and determined not to retire. She then collected her thoughts, and sat down quietly at Werther's side, who had taken his usual place on the sofa. "Have you brought nothing to read?" she inquired. He had nothing.
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