once satisfied my love for out-of-doors life, and fully occupied my
intelligence. But the everlasting scribbling which now fell to my share
I could not long endure, in spite of my otherwise pleasant life.
Early in the spring of 1803 I left my situation and went to Bamberg,
feeling sure that the political changes by which Bamberg had been
transferred to Bavaria, and the general survey of the district which was
therefore in contemplation, would immediately provide me with a sphere
of work suited to my capabilities. My expectations were not falsified.
In pursuance of my plan I introduced myself to the land-surveyors in
Bamberg, and at once received employment from one of them. He had had
considerable surveys in hand, and was still engaged upon them. As I
showed some proficiency in mapping, he entrusted me with the preparation
of the necessary maps which accompanied the surveys. This kept me
employed for some time on work sufficiently remunerative for my needs.
Of course the question in hand with the new Government was the
appointment of land-surveyors, and those who were resident in the town
were invited to send in maps of Bamberg as specimens of their work.
Through the instruction I had enjoyed in my youth I was not unacquainted
with such work. I therefore took pleasure in drawing a map, which I sent
in. My work was approved, and I received something for it; but being a
stranger, inexperienced, and young, and having hardly taken the best way
towards my purposed aim, I obtained no appointment.
After I had finished the work I have mentioned the survey of a small
private property was put into my hands to carry out. From this
engagement ensued consequences which were most important for me. I note
only one point here. One of the joint owners of this property was a
young doctor of philosophy, who leaned towards the new school of
Schelling. It could hardly be expected but that we should talk over
things which stirred our mental life, and so it came about that he lent
me Schelling's "Bruno, oder über die Welt-seele"[26] to read. What I
read in that book moved me profoundly, and I thought I really understood
it. The friendly young fellow, not much older than myself--we had
already met in Jena,--saw the lively interest I was taking in the book,
and, in fact, I talked it over with him many a time. One day, after we
had been to see an important picture-gallery together, he addressed me
in these words, which from his mouth sounded startlingly strange, and
which at the time seemed to me inexplicable:--
"Guard yourself against philosophy; she leads you towards doubt and
darkness. Devote yourself to art, which gives life, peace, and joy."
It is true I retained the young man's words, but I could not understand
them, for I regarded philosophy as a necessary part of the life of
mankind, and could not grasp the notion that one could be verging
towards darkness and doubt when one calmly investigated the inner life.
Art, on the other hand, lay much further from me than philosophy; for
except a profound enjoyment in works of art (for which I could give no
clear reason), no glimmering of an active æsthetic sense had yet dawned
upon me. This remark of my friend the doctor's called my attention to
myself, however, and to my life and its aim, and made me aware of two
very different and widely separate systems of life.
My friend, the tutor of the Government official under whom I had served
at Bamberg, had in the meantime left his situation. He told me before
leaving that he had it in his mind to go to Frankfurt, and thence into
France. I saw his departure with regret, little dreaming that life would
in a few years bring us together again, and that he would indirectly
decide my future career. But, as it so often happens in life, parting in
this instance but led up to meeting, and meeting to parting.
The occurrences I have named had little result upon my outward life,
which for the time ran its peaceful course. I pass over many
circumstances important to the uplifting and development of my character
and my moral life, and come at once to the close of my stay in Bamberg.
I had now once more earnestly to turn my attention to procuring certain
and settled employment. In truth, as regarded my future, I stood quite
alone. I had no one to lend me a helping hand, so I made up my mind to
go forward, trusting only in God and destiny. I determined to seek for a
situation by means of the _Allgemeine Anzeiger der Deutschen_,[27] a
paper then very much read, and I thought it would be good to send in to
the editor, as a proof of my assertions of competency, an architectural
design, and also a specimen of my work in practical surveying, together
with explanations of both of them. As soon as my plan was fully
conceived I set to work at it. For the architectural sketch I chose a
design of a nobleman's country mansion, with the surrounding
outbuildings. When I had finished it, with very few professional
appliances to help me, it contained a complete working out of all the
various necessary plans, and as a critical test of its accuracy and
suitability to the proposed scale of dimensions, I added a statement of
all the particulars and conditions involved in it. For the
land-surveying I chose a table of measurements compiled from the map I
had previously drawn, which I carried through under certain arbitrary
assumptions. These works, together with my advertisement, I sent in 1803
to the office of the paper I have mentioned, with the request that the
editor, after reading my testimonials and inspecting my work, would add
a few confirmatory words as to my qualifications. Work and testimonials
alike were to the satisfaction of the editor, and my request for an
editorial comment was granted. I received several offers, each one
containing something tempting about it. It was difficult to make a
choice, but at last I decided to accept a position offered me as private
secretary to the President and Privy-Councillor Von Dewitz, of
Mecklenburg-Strelitz, at this time resident on one of his estates,
Gross-Milchow.
Amongst the other offers was one from Privy-Councillor Von Voldersdorf,
who was looking out for an accountant for his estates in the
Oberpfalz.[28] This situation did not suit me so well as the other, but
I accepted a proposition to fill up the time till the arrangements for
the other post had been completed, by going down to these estates of
Herr Von Voldersdorf, and bringing into order, according to a certain
specified plan, the heavy accounts of his steward, which were at this
time much in arrear. I set off for the Oberpfalz in the first days of
1804. But I was soon called away to Mecklenburg to the situation at
Gross-Milchow which I had definitively chosen, and in the raw,
frightfully severe winter-time of February I journeyed thither by the
mail-coach. Yet, short as had been my stay in the Oberpfalz, and
continual and uninterrupted as had been my labour in order that I might
get through the work I had undertaken, the time I spent in Bavaria
yielded me much that was instructive. The men, ingenuous, lively young
fellows from Saxony and Prussia, received me very kindly, and the
variety of their different services and their readiness to talk about
them, gave me a good insight into the inner relationship between the
landed aristocracy and their retainers. In recalling these circumstances
I thankfully acknowledge how my ever-tender loving destiny took pains
kindly to prepare me for each vocation next to come. I had never before
had the opportunity to see the mode of keeping accounts used on a great
estate, to say nothing of keeping them myself, and here I had this very
work to do, and that after a plan both ample and clear, in which every
particular, down to the single details, was carefully provided for. This
was of the greatest service to me. Precisely the conduct of such
well-ordered accounts was to be my work later on; therefore, having the
general plan I have referred to firmly established in my mind, and being
well practised in its operation, I set off well prepared for my new
sphere of work. Thanks to this, I was able to satisfy most completely
not only my new employer, but also his lady, who used to examine
everything minutely with severe scrutiny.
The surroundings of Herr Von Dewitz's estate were uncommonly pretty for
that part of the country. Lakes and hills and the fresh foliage of trees
abounded, and what Nature had perhaps overlooked here and there Art had
made good. My good fortune has always led me amongst pretty natural
scenery. I have ever thankfully enjoyed what Nature has spread before my
eyes, and she has always been in true motherly unity with me. As soon as
I had gained some facility in it my new work became simple, ran its
regular course which was repeated week by week, and gave me time to
think about my own improvement.
However, my engagement on this estate was, after all, but a short one.
The bent of my life and disposition was already taken. A star had arisen
within my mind which I was impelled to follow. On this account I could
regard my employment at this time only as a sheet anchor, to be let go
as soon as an opportunity offered itself to resume my vocation. This
opportunity was not long in making its appearance.
My uncle (Hoffmann), who, like my brother, bore me always lovingly in
his thoughts, had lately died. Even on his deathbed he thought of me,
and charged my brother to do all he could to find me some settled
occupation for life, and at any rate to prevent me from leaving the post
I held at the moment before I had some reasonable prospect of a secure
and better engagement elsewhere. Providence willed it otherwise. His
death, through the small inheritance which thereby came to me, gave me
the means of fulfilling the dearest wish of my heart. So wonderfully
does God direct the fate of men.
I must mention one circumstance before I part for ever in this account
of my life from my gentle, loving second-father. On my journey to
Mecklenburg, when I saw my uncle (at Stadt-Ilm) for the last time, I had
the deep joy of a talk with him, such as a trusting father might hold
with his grown-up son, bound to him by every tie of affection. He freely
pointed out the faults which had shown themselves in my boyhood, and
told me of the anxiety they had at one time caused him, and in this way
he went back to the time when I was taken into his family, and to the
causes of that. "I loved your mother very dearly," said he; "indeed, she
was my favourite out of all my brothers and sisters. In you I seemed to
see my sister once more, and for her love I took charge of you and
bestowed on you that affection which hitherto had been hers alone." And
dear as my own mother had become to me already through the many kind
things I had heard said of her, so that I had even formed a distinct
conception of what she was like, and seemed actually to remember her,
she became even dearer to me after these reminiscences of my uncle than
before, for did I not owe to her this noble and high-minded
second-father? My conversation with my uncle first made clear to me what
in later life I have found repeatedly confirmed--that the sources,
springs or motives of one's present actions often lie far away beyond
the present time, outside the present circumstances, and altogether
disconnected with the persons with whom one is concerned at the moment
then passing. I have also repeatedly observed in the course of my life
that ties are the faster, the more enduring and the truer the more they
spring from higher, universal, and impersonal sources.
The person who in Mecklenburg stood next above me in position in the
house and in the family was the private tutor, whom I found already
there--a young doctor of philosophy of Göttingen University. We did not
come much into contact on the whole since he as a university graduate
took a far higher stand than I; but through I came into some connection
with the clergymen of the district, and this was of benefit to me. As
for the farmers the bailiffs, etc., their hospitable nature was quite
sufficient of itself to afford me a hearty welcome. Thus I lived in a
way I had for a long time felt I much needed, amidst many-sided
companionable good-fellowship, cheerful and free. Healthy as I was in
body and soul, in head and heart, my thoughts full of brightness and
cheerfulness, it was not long before my mind again felt an eager desire
for higher culture. The young tutor went away, and after his departure
my craving for culture grew keener and keener, for I missed the
intellectual converse I had been able to hold with him. But I was soon
again to receive succour.
The President,[29] besides the family at home, had two sons at the
Pädagogium in Halle.[30] They came to visit their parents, accompanied
by their special tutor, a gentleman destined to become famous later on
as the renowned scholar, Dr. Wollweide.
Dr. Wollweide was a mathematician and a physicist, and I found him
freely communicative. He was so kind as to mention and explain to me the
many various problems he had set before himself to work out. This caused
my long slumbering and suppressed love for mathematics as a science, and
for physics, to spring up again, fully awake. For some time past my
tendency had leaned more and more towards architecture, and, indeed, I
had now firmly determined to choose that as my profession, and to study
it henceforth with all earnestness. My intellectual cravings and the
choice of a profession seemed at last to run together, and I felt
continually bright and happy at the thought. I seized the opportunity of
the presence of the scholar whom I have named to learn from him what
were the best books on those subjects which promised to be useful to me,
and my first care was to become possessed of them. Architecture was now
vigorously studied, and other books, too, were not suffered to lie idle.
The following books took great hold upon me: Pröschke's "Fragments on
Anthropology" (a small unpretending book), Novalis' Works, and Arndt's
"Germany" and "Europe."[31] The first of these at one stroke drew
together, so that I could recognise in them myself as a connected whole,
my outer existence, my inner character, my disposition, and the course
of my life. I for the first time realised myself and my life as a single
entity in contrast to the whole world outside of me.[32] The second book
lay before me the most secret emotions, perceptions, and intentions of
my inmost soul, clear, open, and vivid. If I parted with that book it
seemed as if I had parted with myself; if anything happened to the book
I felt as though it had happened to me, only more deeply and with
greater pain. The third book taught me of man in his broad historical
relations, set before me the general life of my kind as one great whole,
and showed me how I was bound to my own nation, both to my ancestors and
my contemporaries. Yet the service this last book had done me was hardly
recognised at this time; for my thoughts were bent on a definite outward
aim, that of becoming an architect. But I could at all events recognise
the new eager life which had seized me, and to mark this change to
myself, I now began to use as a Christian name the last instead of the
first of my baptismal names.[33] Other circumstances also impelled me to
make this change; and, further, it freed me from the memory of the many
disagreeable impressions of my boyhood which clustered round the name I
was then called.
The time had come when I could no longer remain satisfied with my
present occupation; and I therefore sent in my resignation. The
immediate outward circumstance which decided me was this. I had kept up
a correspondence with the young man whom I had known as a private tutor
when I held a Government clerkship in Bamberg, and who left his
situation to go to Frankfurt, and then on into France.[34] He had
afterwards lived some time in Frankfurt, occupying himself with
teaching, and now was again a private tutor in a merchant's house in the
Netherlands. I imparted to him my desire to leave my present post, and
to seek a situation with an architect; and asked his opinion whether I
should not be most likely to effect my object at Frankfurt, where so
many streams of diverse life and of men intermingle. And as my friend
was accurately acquainted with the ins and outs of Frankfurt life, I
asked him to give me such indications as he could of the best road to
take towards the fulfilment of my designs. My friend entered heartily
into my project, and wrote to me that he intended himself to spend some
time in Frankfurt again in the early summer; and he suggested that if I
could manage to be there at the same time, a mutual consideration of the
whole matter on the spot would be the best way of going to work. In
consequence of this I at once firmly decided to leave my situation in
the following spring, and to join my friend at Frankfurt. But where was
I to find the money necessary for such a journey? I had required the
whole of my salary up till now to cover my personal expenses and the
settlement of some debts I had run up at Bamberg.
In this perplexity I wrote again to my eldest brother, who had up till
now understood me so well, and I asked him for assistance. I was at this
time in a peculiar dilemma. On the one hand, I felt very keenly that I
must get out of my present position, while on the other, by my
unchanging changeableness I feared to wear out the indulgence and
patience of my worthy brother. In this strait I just gave him what
seemed to me as I wrote it an exact account of my real state of mind;
telling him that I could only find my life-aim in a continual striving
towards inward perfection.
My brother's answer arrived. With a joyful tremor and agitation I held
it in my hands. For hours together I carried it about me before I
unsealed it, for days together before I read it; it seemed so improbable
that my brother would feel himself able to help me towards the
accomplishment of the desire of my soul, and I feared to find in that
letter the frustration of my life's endeavour. When, after some days of
vacillation between hope and doubt, I could bear the situation no
longer, and opened the letter, I was not a little astonished that it
began by addressing me at once in terms of the most moving sympathy. As
I read on the contents agitated me deeply. The letter gave me the news
of my beloved uncle's death, and informed me of legacies left by him to
me and my brothers. Thus fate itself, though in a manner so deeply
affecting, provided me with the means for working out my next plan.
The die was now cast. From this moment onwards my inner life received a
quite new signification and a fresh character, and yet I was unconscious
of all this. I was like a tree which flowers and knows it not. My inward
and outward vocation and endeavour, my true life-destiny and my apparent
life-aim were still, however, in a state of separation, and indeed of
conflict, of which I had not the remotest conception. My resolve held
firm to make architecture my profession; it was purely as a future
architect that I took leave of all my companions.
At the end of April 1805, with peace in my heart, cheerfulness in my
soul, an eager disposition, and a mind full of energy, I quitted my old
surroundings. The first days of an unusually lovely May (and I might
here again recall what I pointed out above, that my inner and personal
life invariably went familiarly hand in hand with external Nature) I
spent with a friend, as a holiday, in the best sense of the word. This
was a dear friend of mine, who lived on an exceedingly finely-situated
farm in the Uckermark.[35] Art had improved the beauty of the somewhat
simple natural features of the place, in the most cunningly-devised
fashion. In this beautiful, retired, and even solitary spot, I flitted,
as it were, from one flower to another like a very butterfly. I had
always passionately loved Nature in her adornments of colour and of dewy
pearls, and clung to her closely with the gladsomeness of youth. Here I
made the discovery that a landscape which we look upon in sympathetic
mood shines with enhanced brilliancy; or as I put the truth into words
at the time, "The more intimately we attach ourselves to Nature, the
more she glows with beauty and returns us all our affection." This was
the first time my mind had ventured to give expression to a sentiment
which thrilled my soul. Often in later life has this phrase proved
itself a very truth to me. My friend one day begged me to write
something in his album: I did so unwillingly. To write anything borrowed
went against me, for it jarred with the relations existing between me
and the book's owner; and to think of anything original was a task I
felt to be almost beyond my powers. However, after long thinking it over
in the open air, comparing my friend's life and my own in all their
aspects, I decided upon the following phrase:--"To thee may destiny soon
grant a settled home and a loving wife! To me, while she drives me
restless abroad, may she leave but just so much time as to allow me
fairly to discern my relations with my inmost self and with the world."
Then my thoughts grew clear, and I continued, "Thou givest man bread;
let my aim be to give man himself."
I did not even then fully apprehend the meaning of what I had said and
written, or I could not of course have held so firmly to my architecture
scheme. I knew as yet neither myself nor my real life, neither my goal
nor my life's path thither. And long afterwards, when I had for some
time been engaged upon my true vocation, I was not a little astonished
over the prophetic nature of this album-phrase of mine.
In later life I have often observed that a man's spirit, when it first
begins to stir within him, utters many a far-away prophetic thought,
which yet, in riper age, attains its realisation, its consummation.
I have especially noticed this recently in bright-minded and active
children; in fact, I have often been quite astounded at the really
deep truths expressed by them in their butterfly life. I seemed to
catch glimpses of a symbolic truth in this; as if indeed the human
soul were even already beginning to shake itself free from its
chrysalis-wrapping, or were bursting off the last fragments of the
eggshell.
In May 1805, while on my journey, I visited my eldest brother, of whom I
have so often spoken, and shall have yet so often to speak, and found
him in another district, to which he had been appointed minister. He was
as kind and full of affection as ever; and instead of blaming me, spoke
with especial approval of my new plans. He told me of projects which had
allured him in his youth, and still allured, but which he had lacked
the strength of mind to speak of. His father's advice and authority
had overawed him in youth, and now the chain of a settled position in
life held him fast. To follow the inward voice faithfully and without
swerving was the advice he offered me, and he wrote this memorandum
in my album when I left him, as a life motto:--"The task of man is a
struggle towards an end. Do your duty as a man, dear brother, with
firmness and resolution, fight against the difficulties which will
thrust themselves in your path, and be assured you will attain the end."
Thus cheered by sympathy and approval, I went my way from my brother's,
strengthened and confirmed in my determination. My road lay over the
Wartburg.[36] Luther's life and fame were then not nearly so well
appreciated and so generally understood as now, after the Tercentenary
festival of the Reformation.[37] My early education had not been of the
kind to give me a complete survey of Luther's life and its struggle; I
was hardly thoroughly acquainted indeed with the separate events of it.
Yet I had learnt in some sort to appreciate this fighter for the truth,
by having in my last years at school to read aloud the Augsburg
Confession to the assembled congregation during the afternoon service on
certain specified Sundays, according to an old-fashioned Church
custom.[38] I was filled with a deep sense of reverence as I climbed
"Luther's path," thinking at the same time that Luther had left much
behind still to be done, to be rooted out, or to be built up.