and habits into more or less unconscious ones; and the history of
mankind is in this sense its education. The philologist now practises
unconsciously a number of such occupations and habits. It is my object
to ascertain how his power, that is, his instinctive methods of work,
is the result of activities which were formerly conscious, but which he
has gradually come to feel as such no longer: _but that consciousness
consisted of prejudices._ The present power of philologists is based
upon these prejudices, for example the value attached to the _ratio_
as in the cases of Bentley and Hermann. Prejudices are, as Lichtenberg
says, the art impulses of men.
29
It is difficult to justify the preference for antiquity since it has
arisen from prejudices:
1. From ignorance of all non-classical antiquity.
2. From a false idealisation of humanitarianism, whilst Hindoos and
Chinese are at all events more humane.
3. From the pretensions of school-teachers.
4. From the traditional admiration which emanated from antiquity itself.
5. From opposition to the Christian church; or as a support for this
church.
6. From the impression created by the century-long work of the
philologists, and the nature of this work: it must be a gold mine,
thinks the spectator.
7. The acquirement of knowledge attained as the result of the study.
The preparatory school of science.
In short, partly from ignorance, wrong impressions, and misleading
conclusions; and also from the interest which philologists have in
raising their science to a high level in the estimation of laymen.
Also the preference for antiquity on the part of the artists, who
involuntarily assume proportion and moderation to be the property of
all antiquity. Purity of form. Authors likewise.
The preference for antiquity as an abbreviation of the history of the
human race, as if there were an autochthonous creation here by which
all becoming might be studied.
The fact actually is that the foundations of this preference are
being removed one by one, and if this is not remarked by philologists
themselves, it is certainly being remarked as much as it can possibly
be by people outside their circle. First of all history had its effect,
and then linguistics brought about the greatest diversion among
philologists themselves, and even the desertion of many of them. They
have still the schools in their hands: but for how long! In the form
in which it has existed up to the present philology is dying out; the
ground has been swept from under its feet. Whether philologists may
still hope to maintain their status is doubtful; in any case they are a
dying race.
30
The peculiarly significant situation of philologists: a class of
people to whom we entrust our youth, and who have to investigate quite
a special antiquity. The highest value is obviously attached to this
antiquity. But if this antiquity has been wrongly valued, then the
whole foundation upon which the high position of the philologist is
based suddenly collapses. In any case this antiquity has been very
differently valued; and our appreciation of the philologists has
constantly been guided by it. These people have borrowed their power
from the strong prejudices in favour of antiquity,--this must be made
clear.
Philologists now feel that when these prejudices are at last refuted,
and antiquity depicted in its true colours, the favourable prejudices
towards them will diminish considerably. _It is thus to the interest
of their profession not to let a clear impression of antiquity come to
light: in particular the impression that antiquity in its highest sense
renders one "out of season"_ i.e., _an enemy to one's own time._
It is also to the interest of philologists as a class not to let their
calling as teachers be regarded from a higher standpoint than that to
which they themselves can correspond.
31
It is to be hoped that there are a few people who look upon it as
a problem why philologists should be the teachers of our noblest
youths. Perhaps the case will not be always so.--It would be much more
natural _per se_ if our children were instructed in the elements of
geography, natural science, political economy, and sociology, if they
were gradually led to a consideration of life itself, and if finally,
but much later, the most noteworthy events of the past were brought
to their knowledge. A knowledge of antiquity should be among the last
subjects which a student would take up; and would not this position of
antiquity in the curriculum of a school be more honourable for it than
the present one?--Antiquity is now used merely as a propædeutic for
thinking, speaking, and writing; but there was a time when it was the
essence of earthly knowledge, and people at that time wished to acquire
by means of practical learning what they now seek to acquire merely by
means of a detailed plan of study--a plan which, corresponding to the
more advanced knowledge of the age, has entirely changed.
Thus the inner purpose of philological teaching has been entirely
altered; it was at one time material teaching, a teaching that taught
how to live; but now it is merely formal.[3]
[Footnote 3: Formal education is that which tends to develop the
critical and logical faculties, as opposed to material education,
which is intended to deal with the acquisition of knowledge and its
valuation, _e.g.,_ history, mathematics, &c. "Material" education, of
course, has nothing to do with materialism.--TR.]
32
If it were the task of the philologist to impart formal education,
it would be necessary for him to teach walking, dancing, speaking,
singing, acting, or arguing: and the so-called formal teachers did
impart their instruction this way in the second and third centuries.
But only the training of a scientific man is taken into account, which
results in "formal" thinking and writing, and hardly any speaking at
all.
33
If the gymnasium is to train young men for science, people now say
there can be no more preliminary preparation for any particular
science, so comprehensive have all the sciences become. As a
consequence teachers have to train their students generally, that is
to say for all the sciences--for scientificality in other words; and
for that classical studies are necessary! What a wonderful jump! a most
despairing justification! Whatever is, is right,[4] even when it is
clearly seen that the "right" on which it has been based has turned to
wrong.
[Footnote 4: The reference is not to Pope, but to Hegel.--TR.]
34
It is accomplishments which are expected from us after a study of the
ancients: formerly, for example, the ability to write and speak. But
what is expected now! Thinking and deduction: but these things are not
learnt _from_ the ancients, but at best _through_ the ancients, by
means of science. Moreover, all historical deduction is very limited
and unsafe; natural science should be preferred.
35
It is the same with the simplicity of antiquity as it is with the
simplicity of style: it is the highest thing which we recognise and
must imitate; but it is also the last Let it be remembered that the
classic prose of the Greeks is also a late result
36
What a mockery of the study of the "humanities" lies in the fact that
they were also called "belles lettres" (bellas litteras)!
37
Wolfs[5] reasons why the Egyptians, Hebrews Persians, and other
Oriental nations were not to be set on the same plane with the
Greeks and Romans: "The former have either not raised themselves,
or have raised themselves only to a slight extent, above that type
of culture which should be called a mere civilisation and bourgeois
acquirement, as opposed to the higher and true culture of the mind."
He then explains that this culture is spiritual and literary: "In
a well-organised nation this may be begun earlier than order and
peacefulness in the outward life of the people (enlightenment)."
He then contrasts the inhabitants of easternmost Asia ("like such
individuals, who are not wanting in clean, decent, and comfortable
dwellings, clothing, and surroundings; but who never feel the necessity
for a higher enlightenment") with the Greeks ("in the case of the
Greeks, even among the most educated inhabitants of Attica, the
contrary often happens to an astonishing degree; and the people neglect
as insignificant factors that which we, thanks to our love of order,
are in the habit of looking upon as the foundations of mental culture
itself").
[Footnote 5: Friedrich August Wolf (1759-1824), the well-known
classical scholar, now chiefly remembered by his "Prolegomena ad
Homerum."--TR.]
38 Our terminology already shows how prone we are to judge the ancients
wrongly: the exaggerated sense of literature, for example; or, as Wolf,
when speaking of the "inner history of ancient erudition," calls it,
"the history of learned enlightenment."
39
According to Goethe, the ancients are "the despair of the emulator."
Voltaire said: "If the admirers of Homer were honest, they would
acknowledge the boredom which their favourite often causes them."
40
The position we have taken up towards classical antiquity is at bottom
the profound cause of the sterility of modern culture; for we have
taken all this modern conception of culture from the Hellenised Romans.
We must distinguish within the domain of antiquity itself: when we come
to appreciate its purely productive period, we condemn at the same time
the entire Romano Alexandrian culture. But at the same time also we
condemn our own attitude towards antiquity, and likewise our philology.
41
There has been an age-long battle between the Germans and antiquity,
_i.e.,_ a battle against the old culture: it is certain that precisely
what is best and deepest in the German resists it. The main point,
however, is that such resistance is only justifiable in the case of
the Romanised culture; for this culture, even at that time, was a
falling-off from something more profound and noble. It is this latter
that the Germans are wrong in resisting.
42
Everything classic was thoroughly cultivated by Charles the Great,
whilst he combated everything heathen with the severest possible
measures of coercion. Ancient mythology was developed, but German
mythology was treated as a crime. The feeling underlying all this,
in my opinion, was that Christianity had already overcome the old
religion: people no longer feared it, but availed themselves of the
culture that rested upon it. But the old German gods were feared.
A great superficiality in the conception of antiquity--little else than
an appreciation of its formal accomplishments and its knowledge--must
thereby have been brought about. We must find out the forces that
stood in the way of increasing our insight into antiquity. First of
all, the culture of antiquity is utilised as an incitement towards the
acceptance of Christianity: it became, as it were, the premium for
conversion, the gilt with which the poisonous pill was coated before
being swallowed. Secondly, the help of ancient culture was found to be
necessary as a weapon for the intellectual protection of Christianity.
Even the Reformation could not dispense with classical studies for this
purpose.
The Renaissance, on the other hand, now begins, with a clearer sense
of classical studies, which, however, are likewise looked upon from
an anti-Christian standpoint: the Renaissance shows an awakening of
honesty in the south, like the Reformation in the north. They could
not but clash; for a sincere leaning towards antiquity renders one
unchristian. On the whole, however, the Church succeeded in turning
classical studies into a harmless direction: the philologist was
invented, representing a type of learned man who was at the same time
a priest or something similar. Even in the period of the Reformation
people succeeded in emasculating scholarship. It is on this account
that Friedrich August Wolf is noteworthy: he freed his profession from
the bonds of theology. This action of his, however, was not fully
understood; for an aggressive, active element, such as was manifested
by the poet-philologists of the Renaissance, was not developed. The
freedom obtained benefited science, but not man.
43
It is true that both humanism and rationalism have brought antiquity
into the field as an ally; and it is therefore quite comprehensible
that the opponents of humanism should direct their attacks against
antiquity also. Antiquity, however, has been misunderstood and
falsified by humanism: it must rather be considered as a testimony
against humanism, against the benign nature of man, &c. The opponents
of humanism are wrong to combat antiquity as well; for in antiquity
they have a strong ally.
44
It is so difficult to understand the ancients. We must wait patiently
until the spirit moves us. The human element which antiquity shows
us must not be confused with humanitarianism. This contrast must be
strongly emphasised: philology suffers by endeavouring to substitute
the humanitarian; young men are brought forward as students of
philology in order that they may thereby become humanitarians. A good
deal of history, in my opinion, is quite sufficient for that purpose.
The brutal and self-conscious man will be humbled when he sees things
and values changing to such an extent.
The human element among the Greeks lies within a certain _naïveté_
through which man himself is to be seen--state, art, society, military
and civil law, sexual relations, education, party. It is precisely the
human element which may be seen everywhere and among all peoples; but
among the Greeks it is seen in a state of nakedness and inhumanity
which cannot be dispensed with for purposes of instruction. In addition
to this, the Greeks have created the greatest number of individuals;
and thus they give us so much insight into men,--a Greek cook is more
of a cook than any other.
45
I deplore a system of education which does not enable people to
understand Wagner, and as the result of which Schopenhauer sounds harsh
and discordant in our ears: such a system of education has missed its
aim.
46
(THE FINAL DRAFT OF THE FIRST CHAPTER.)
Il faut dire la vérité et s'immoler.--VOLTAIRE.
Let us suppose that there were freer and more superior spirits who were
dissatisfied with the education now in vogue, and that they summoned
it to their tribunal, what would the defendant say to them? In all
probability something like this: "Whether you have a right to summon
anyone here or not, I am at all events not the proper person to be
called. It is my educators to whom you should apply. It is their duty
to defend me, and I have a right to keep silent. I am merely what they
have made me."
These educators would now be haled before the tribunal, and among
them an entire profession would be observed: the philologists. This
profession consists in the first place of those men who make use
of their knowledge of Greek and Roman antiquity to bring up youths
of thirteen to twenty years of age, and secondly of those men
whose task it is to train specially-gifted pupils to act as future
teachers-_i.e.,_ as the educators of educators. Philologists of the
first type are teachers at the public schools; those of the second are
professors at the universities.
The first-named philologists are entrusted with the care of certain
specially-chosen youths, those who, early in life, show signs of talent
and a sense of what is noble, and whose parents are prepared to allow
plenty of time and money for their education. If other boys, who do
not fulfil these three conditions, are presented to the teachers, the
teachers have the right to refuse them. Those forming the second class,
the university professors, receive the young men who feel themselves
fitted for the highest and most responsible of callings, that of
teachers and moulders of mankind; and these professors, too, may refuse
to have anything to do with young men who are not adequately equipped
or gifted for the task. If, then, the educational system of a period
is condemned, a heavy censure on philologists is thereby implied:
either, as the consequence of their wrong-headed view, they insist on
giving bad education in the belief that it is good; or they do not wish
to give this bad education, but are unable to carry the day in favour
of education which they recognise to be better. In other words, their
fault is either due to their lack of insight or to their lack of will.
In answer to the first charge they would say that they knew no better,
and in answer to the second that they could do no better. As, however,
these philologists bring up their pupils chiefly with the aid of Greek
and Roman antiquity, their want of insight in the first case may be
attributed to the fact that they do not understand antiquity; and
again to the fact that they bring forward antiquity into the present
age as if it were the most important of all aids to instruction, while
antiquity, generally speaking, does not assist in training, or at all
events no longer does so.
On the other hand, if we reproach our professors with their lack of
will, they would be quite right in attributing educational significance
and power to antiquity; but they themselves could not be said to be
the proper instruments by means of which antiquity could exhibit such
power. In other words, the professors would not be real teachers
and would be living under false colours: but how, then, could they
have reached such an irregular position? Through a misunderstanding
of themselves and their qualifications. In order, then, that we may
ascribe to philologists their share in this bad educational system
of the present time, we may sum up the different factors of their
innocence and guilt in the following sentence: the philologist, if
he wishes for a verdict of acquittal, must understand three things:
antiquity, the present time, and himself: his fault lies in the fact
that he either does not understand antiquity, or the present time, or
himself.
47
It is not true to say that we can attain culture through antiquity
alone. We may learn something from it, certainly; but not culture
as the word is now understood. Our present culture is based on an
emasculated and mendacious study of antiquity. In order to understand
how ineffectual this study is, just look at our philologists: they,
trained upon antiquity, should be the most cultured men. Are they?
48
Origin of the philologist. When a great work of art is exhibited there
is always some one who not only feels its influence but wishes to
perpetuate it. The same remark applies to a great state--to everything,
in short, that man produces. Philologists wish to perpetuate the
influence of antiquity: and they can set about it only as imitative
artists. Why not as men who form their lives after antiquity?
49
The decline of the poet-scholars is due in great part to their
own corruption: their type is continually arising again; Goethe
and Leopardi, for example, belong to it. Behind them plod the
philologist-savants. This type has its origin in the sophisticism of
the second century.
50
Ah, it is a sad story, the story of philology! The disgusting
erudition, the lazy, inactive passivity, the timid submission.--Who was
ever free?
51
When we examine the history of philology it is borne in upon us how few
really talented men have taken part in it. Among the most celebrated
philologists are a few who ruined their intellect by acquiring a
smattering of many subjects, and among the most enlightened of them
were several who could use their intellect only for childish tasks. It
is a sad story: no science, I think, has ever been so poor in talented
followers. Those whom we might call the intellectually crippled found a
suitable hobby in all this hair-splitting.
52
The teacher of reading and writing, and the reviser, were the first
types of the philologist.
53
Friedrich August Wolf reminds us how apprehensive and feeble were the
first steps taken by our ancestors in moulding scholarship--how even
the Latin classics, for example, had to be smuggled into the university
market under all sorts of pretexts, as if they had been contraband
goods. In the "Göttingen Lexicon" of 1737, J. M. Gesner tells us of the
Odes of Horace: "ut imprimis, quid prodesse _in severioribus studiis_
possint, ostendat."
54
I was pleased to read of Bentley: "non tam grande pretium
emendatiunculis meis statuere soleo, ut singularem aliquam gratiam inde
sperem aut exigam."
Newton was surprised that men like Bentley and Hare should quarrel
about a book of ancient comedies, since they were both theological
dignitaries.
55
Horace was summoned by Bentley as before a judgment seat, the authority
of which he would have been the first to repudiate. The admiration
which a discriminating man acquires as a philologist is in proportion
to the rarity of the discrimination to be found in philologists.
Bentley's treatment of Horace has something of the schoolmaster about
it. It would appear at first sight as if Horace himself were not the
object of discussion, but rather the various scribes and commentators
who have handed down the text: in reality, however, it is actually
Horace who is being dealt with. It is my firm conviction that to have
written a single line which is deemed worthy of being commented upon
by scholars of a later time, far outweighs the merits of the greatest
critic. There is a profound modesty about philologists. The improving
of texts is an entertaining piece of work for scholars, it is a kind of
riddle-solving; but it should not be looked upon as a very important
task. It would be an argument against antiquity if it should speak less
clearly to us because a million words stood in the way!
56
A school-teacher said to Bentley: "Sir, I will make your grandchild as
great a scholar as you are yourself." "How can you do that," replied
Bentley, "when I have forgotten more than you ever knew?"
57
Bentley's clever daughter Joanna once lamented to her father that he
had devoted his time and talents to the criticism of the works of
others instead of writing something original. Bentley remained silent
for some time as if he were turning the matter over in his mind. At
last he said that her remark was quite right: he himself felt that
he might have directed his gifts in some other channel. Earlier in
life, nevertheless, he had done something for the glory of God and
the improvement of his fellow-men (referring to his "Confutation of
Atheism"), but afterwards the genius of the pagans had attracted him,
and, _despairing of attaining their level in any other way,_ he had
mounted upon their shoulders so that he might thus be able to look over
their heads.
58
Bentley, says Wolf, both as man of letters and individual, was
misunderstood and persecuted during the greater part of his life, or
else praised maliciously.
Markland, towards the end of his life--as was the case with so many
others like him--became imbued with a repugnance for all scholarly
reputation, to such an extent, indeed, that he partly tore up and
partly burnt several works which he had long had in hand.
Wolf says: "The amount of intellectual food that can be got from
well-digested scholarship is a very insignificant item."
In Winckelmann's youth there were no philological studies apart from
the ordinary bread-winning branches of the science--people read and
explained the ancients in order to prepare themselves for the better
interpretation of the Bible and the Corpus Juris.
59
In Wolf's estimation, a man has reached the highest point of historical
research when he is able to take a wide and general view of the whole
and of the profoundly conceived distinctions in the developments in
art and the different styles of art. Wolf acknowledges, however, that
Winckelmann was lacking in the more common talent of philological
criticism, or else he could not use it properly: "A rare mixture of
a cool head and a minute and restless solicitude for hundreds of
things which, insignificant in themselves, were combined in his case
with a fire that swallowed up those little things, and with a gift of
divination which is a vexation and an annoyance to the uninitiated."
60