Faust [part 1]. Translated Into English in the Original Metres · Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
MEPHISTOPHELES
Use well your time! It flies so swiftly from us; But time through order may be won, I promise. So, Friend (my views to briefly sum), First, the _collegium logicum_. There will your mind be drilled and braced, As if in Spanish boots ’twere laced, And thus, to graver paces brought, ’Twill plod along the path of thought, Instead of shooting here and there, A will-o’-the-wisp in murky air. Days will be spent to bid you know, What once you did at a single blow, Like eating and drinking, free and strong,— That one, two, three! thereto belong. Truly the fabric of mental fleece Resembles a weaver’s masterpiece, Where a thousand threads one treadle throws, Where fly the shuttles hither and thither. Unseen the threads are knit together. And an infinite combination grows. Then, the philosopher steps in And shows, no otherwise it could have been: The first was so, the second so, Therefore the third and fourth are so; Were not the first and second, then The third and fourth had never been. The scholars are everywhere believers, But never succeed in being weavers. He who would study organic existence, First drives out the soul with rigid persistence; Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class, But the spiritual link is lost, alas! _Encheiresin natures_, this Chemistry names, Nor knows how herself she banters and blames!
I cannot understand you quite. Your mind will shortly be set aright, When you have learned, all things reducing, To classify them for your using. I feel as stupid, from all you’ve said, As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head! And after—first and foremost duty—Of Metaphysics learn the use and beauty! See that you most profoundly gain What does not suit the human brain! A splendid word to serve, you’ll find For what goes in—or won’t go in—your mind. But first, at least this half a year, To order rigidly adhere; Five hours a day, you understand, And when the clock strikes, be on hand! Prepare beforehand for your part With paragraphs all got by heart, So you can better watch, and look That naught is said but what is in the book: Yet in thy writing as unwearied be, As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee! No need to tell me twice to do it! I think, how useful ’tis to write; For what one has, in black and white, One carries home and then goes through it. Yet choose thyself a faculty! I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence. Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students: I know what science this has come to be. All rights and laws are still transmitted Like an eternal sickness of the race,— From generation unto generation fitted, And shifted round from place to place. Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry: Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee! The right born with us, ours in verity, This to consider, there’s, alas! no hurry.
My own disgust is strengthened by your speech: O lucky he, whom you shall teach! I’ve almost for Theology decided. I should not wish to see you here misguided: For, as regards this science, let me hint ’Tis very hard to shun the false direction; There’s so much secret poison lurking in ’t, So like the medicine, it baffles your detection. Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth, And simply take your master’s words for truth. On _words_ let your attention centre! Then through the safest gate you’ll enter The temple-halls of Certainty. Yet in the word must some idea be. Of course! But only shun too over-sharp a tension, For just where fails the comprehension, A word steps promptly in as deputy. With words ’tis excellent disputing; Systems to words ’tis easy suiting; On words ’tis excellent believing; No word can ever lose a jot from thieving.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.