From Goethe’s Introduction to the “Propylæum.”

WHEN several persons live together in friendly intercourse, at the same time that they have a common interest to advance their culture, and keep in view separate, closely united aims, they feel that they are coming in contact in the greatest possible variety of ways, and that even a direction that seems to lead to their separation will soon happily reunite them.

  Who has not felt what profit, in such cases, results from conversation? But conversation has no permanence; and though we do not lose any portion of the results of a mutual interchange of acquisition, the memory of the means by which they were arrived at disappears.

  The steps of such a common progress are better preserved by means of a correspondence by letter. Each moment of growth is thus fixed, and while our attainment gives us a feeling of satisfaction, we shall derive advantage from a backward look at the process of growth, which gives us reason to hope for ceaseless future progress.

  Brief notes, in which we set down from time to time our thoughts, convictions, and wishes, in order to return and converse with ourselves after an interval of time, are also an excellent means of aiding our own culture, and that of others; a means that no one should neglect, when we consider the short space of time allotted to life, and the many hindrances we meet with in the way of advancement.

  It will be seen that we are now speaking of an interchange of ideas among friends, who have a common aim of artistic and scientific cultivation. At the same time, so great an advantage ought not to be neglected in a life of action in the world.

  But in matters of art and science, a limited connection of this sort is not sufficient; to stand in some relation to the public is equally agreeable and necessary. Whatever a man does or thinks, of general concern, belongs to the world, which in time brings to maturity whatever it can appropriate of the efforts of individuals. The desire for applause which the writer feels is an instinct that nature has implanted in him, to draw him on to something higher. He thinks he has achieved the laurel, but soon perceives that a more laborious cultivation of all his faculties is necessary, to hold fast the public favor, which through fortune and accident may be retained for a few short moments.

  In early times the writer perceived this significance in his relation to the public, and even in later days he cannot dispense with it. However little he may seem called to give instruction, he still feels the need of imparting to others with whom he has a sympathy, but who are scattered up and down in the world. He wishes by this means to renew his relations with old friends, to strengthen those friendships now existing, and to acquire others in the new generation for the remainder of his term of life. He wishes to spare the young those circuitous ways in which he wandered up and down, and whilst he observes and profits by the advantages of the present time, preserves the recollection of earlier and more meritorious endeavors.