reality, no fiction, no projection from the human mind. Subject and
object, in his view, were one, but in the ABSOLUTE, the universal soul,
the infinite and eternal mind. His original fire mist was the
unorganized intelligence of which the universe was the expression.
Finite minds are but phases of manifestation of the infinite mind,
inlets into which it flows, some deeper, wider, longer than others.
Spirit and matter are reverse aspects of being. Spirit is invisible
nature, nature invisible spirit. Starting from nature, we may work our
way into intelligence; starting from intelligence, we may work our way
out to nature. Thought and existence having the same ground, ideal and
real being one, the work of philosophy is twofold--from nature to arrive
at spirit, from spirit to arrive at nature. They who wish to know how
Schelling did it must consult the histories of philosophy; the most
popular of them will satisfy all but the experts. It is easy to
conjecture into what mysterious ways the clue might lead, and in what
wilderness of thickets the reader might be lost; how in mind we are to
see nature struggling upward into consciousness, and in nature mind
seeking endless forms of finite expression. To unfold both processes, in
uniform and balanced movement, avoiding pantheism on one side, and
materialism on the other, was the endeavor we shall not attempt, even in
the most cursory manner, to describe. God becomes conscious in man, the
philosophic man, the man of reason, in whom the absolute being
recognizes himself. The reason gazes immediately on the eternal
realities, by virtue of what was called "intellectual intuition," which
beholds both subject and object as united in a single thought. Reason
was impersonal, no attribute of the finite intelligence, no fact of the
individual consciousness, but a faculty, if that be the word for it,
that transcended all finite experience, commanded a point superior to
consciousness, was, in fact, the all-seeing eye confronting itself. What
room here for intellectual rovers! What mystic groves for ecstatic souls
to lose themselves in! What intricate mazes for those who are fond of
hunting phantoms! Flashes of dim glory from this tremendous speculation
are seen in the writings of Emerson, Parker, Alcott, and other seers,
probably caught by reflection, or struck out, as they were by Schelling
himself, by minds moving on the same level. In Germany the lines of
speculation were carried out in labyrinthine detail, as, fortunately,
they were not elsewhere.
Of Hegel, the successor in thought of Schelling, there is no call here
to speak at all. His speculation, though influential in America, as
influential as that of either of his predecessors, was scarcely known
thirty-five years ago, and if it had been, would have possessed little
charm for idealists of the New England stamp. That system has borne
fruits of a very different quality, being adopted largely by churchmen,
whom it has justified and fortified in their ecclesiastical forms,
doctrinal and sacramental, and by teachers of moderately progressive
tendencies. The duty of unfolding his ideas has devolved upon students
of German, as no other language has given them anything like adequate
expression. Hegel, too, was more formidable than Schelling; the latter
was brilliant, dashing, imaginative, glowing; his ideas shone in the
air, and were caught with little toil by enthusiastic minds. To
comprehend or even to apprehend Hegel requires more philosophical
culture than was found in New England half a century ago, more than is
by any means common to-day. Modern speculative philosophy is, as a rule,
Hegelian. Its spirit is conservative, and it scarcely at all lends
countenance to movements so revolutionary as those that shook New
England.
Long before the time we are dealing with--as early as 1824--the
philosophy of Hegel had struck hands with church and state in Prussia;
Hegel was at once prophet, priest, and prince. In the fulness of his
powers, ripe in ability and in fame, he sat in the chair that Fichte had
occupied, and gave laws to the intellectual world. He would "teach
philosophy to talk German, as Luther had taught the Bible to do." A
crowd of enthusiasts thronged about him. The scientific and literary
celebrities of Berlin sat at his feet; state officials attended his
lectures and professed themselves his disciples. The government provided
liberally for his salary, and paid the travelling expenses of this great
ambassador of the mind. The old story of disciple become master was told
again. The philosopher was the friend of those that befriended him; the
servant, some say, of those that lavished on him honors. Then the new
philosophy that was to reconstruct the mental world learned to accept
the actual world as it existed, and lent its powerful aid to the order
of things it promised to reconstruct. Throwing out the aphorism, "The
rational is the actual, the actual is the rational," Hegel declared that
natural right, morality, and even religion are properly subordinated to
authority. The despotic Prussian system welcomed the great philosopher
as its defender. The Prussian Government was not tardy in showing
appreciation of its advocate's eminent services.
The church, taking the hint, put in its claim to patronage. It needed
protection against the rationalism that was coming up; and such
protection the majesty of Hegel vouchsafed to offer. Faith and
philosophy formed a new alliance. Orthodox professors gave in their
loyalty to the man who taught that "God was in process of becoming," and
the man who taught that "God was in process of becoming" welcomed the
orthodox professors to the circle of his disciples. He was more orthodox
than the orthodox; he gave the theologians new explanations of their own
dogmas, and supplied them with arguments against their own foes.
Trinity, incarnation, atonement, redemption, were all interpreted and
justified, to the complete satisfaction of the ecclesiastical powers.
This being the influence of the master, and of philosophy as he
explained it, the formation of a new school by the earnest, liberal men
who drew very different conclusions from the master's first principles,
was to be expected. But the "New Hegelians," as they were called, became
disbelievers in religion and in spiritual things altogether, and either
lapsed, like Strauss, into intellectual scepticism, or, like Feuerbach,
became aggressive materialists. The ideal elements in Hegel's system
were appropriated by Christianity, and were employed against liberty and
progress. Spiritualists, whether in the old world or the new, had little
interest in a philosophy that so readily favored two opposite
tendencies, both of which they abhorred. To them the spiritual
philosophy was represented by Hegel's predecessors. The disciples of
sentiment accepted Jacobi; the loyalists of conscience followed Fichte;
the severe metaphysicians, of whom there were a few, adhered to Kant;
the soaring speculators and imaginative theosophists spread their
"sheeny vans," and soared into the regions of the absolute with
Schelling. The idealists of New England were largest debtors to Jacobi
and Fichte.
III.
TRANSCENDENTALISM IN THEOLOGY AND LITERATURE.
One of the earliest students of the German language in Boston was Dr. N.
L. Frothingham, Unitarian minister of the First Church. Among the
professional books that interested him was one by Herder, "Letters to a
Young Theologian," chapters from which he translated for the "Christian
Disciple," the precursor of the "Christian Examiner." Of Herder, George
Bancroft wrote an account in the "North American Review," and George
Ripley in the "Christian Examiner." The second number of "The Dial"
contains a letter from Mr. Ripley to a theological student, in which
this particular book of Herder is warmly commended, as being worth the
trouble of learning German to read. The volume was remarkable for
earnest enlightenment, its discernment of the spirit beneath the letter,
its generous interpretations, and its suggestions of a better future for
the philosophy of religion. Herder was one of the illuminated minds;
though not professedly a disciple, he had felt the influence of Kant,
and was cordially in sympathy with the men who were trying to break the
spell of form and tradition. With Lessing more especially, Herder's
"Spirit of Hebrew Poetry," of which a translation by Dr. James Marsh was
published in 1833, found its way to New England, and helped to confirm
the disposition to seek the springs of inspiration in the human mind,
whence all poetry proceeded. The writer of the book, by applying to
Hebrew poetry the rules of critical appreciation by which all poetic
creations are judged, abolished so far the distinction between sacred
and secular, and transferred to the credit of human genius the products
commonly ascribed to divine. In the persons of the great bards of Israel
all bards were glorified; the soul's creative power was recognized, and
with it the heart of the transcendental faith.
The influence of Schleiermacher was even more distinct than that of
Herder. One book of his, in particular, made a deep impression,--the
"Reden ueber Religion," published in 1799. The book is thus described by
Mr. George Ripley, in a controversial letter to Mr. Andrews Norton, who
had assailed Schleiermacher as an atheist. "The 'Discourses on Religion'
were not intended to present a system of theology. They are highly
rhetorical in manner, filled with bursts of impassioned eloquence,
always intense, and sometimes extravagant; addressed to the feelings,
not to speculation; and expressly disclaiming all pretensions to an
exposition of doctrine. They were published at a time when hostility to
religion, and especially to Christianity as a divine revelation, was
deemed a proof of talent and refinement. The influence of the church was
nearly exhausted; the highest efforts of thought were of a destructive
character; a frivolous spirit pervaded society; religion was deprived of
its supremacy; and a 'starveling theology' was exalted in place of the
living word. Schleiermacher could not contemplate the wretched
meagreness and degradation of his age without being moved as by 'a
heavenly impulse.' His spirit was stirred within him as he saw men
turning from the true God to base idols. He felt himself impelled to go
forth with the power of a fresh and youthful enthusiasm, for the
restoration of religion; to present it in its most sublime aspect, free
from its perversions, disentangled from human speculation, as founded in
the essential nature of man, and indispensable to the complete unfolding
of his inward being. In order to recognize everything which is really
religious among men, and to admit even the lowest degree of it into the
idea of religion, he wishes to make this as broad and comprehensive in
its character as possible." In illustration of this purpose Mr. Ripley
quotes the author as follows: "I maintain that piety is the necessary
and spontaneous product of the depths of every elevated nature; that it
possesses a rightful claim to a peculiar province in the soul, over
which it may exercise an unlimited sovereignty; that it is worthy, by
its intrinsic power, to be a source of life to the most noble and
exalted minds; and that from its essential character it deserves to be
known and received by them. These are the points which I defend, and
which I would fain establish."
From this it will appear that Schleiermacher gave countenance to the
spiritual aspect of transcendentalism, and co-operated with the general
movement it represented. His position that religion was not a system of
dogmas, but an inward experience; that it was not a speculation, but a
feeling; that its primal verities rested not on miracle or tradition,
not on the Bible letter or on ecclesiastical institution, but on the
soul's own sense of things divine; that this sense belonged by nature to
the human race, and gave to all forms of religion such genuineness as
they had; that all affirmation was partial, and all definition
deceptive; proved to be practically the same with that taken by Jacobi,
and was so received by the disciples of the new philosophy.
But Schleiermacher was an Evangelical Lutheran, a believer in
supernatural religion, in Christ, in Christianity as a special
dispensation, in the miracles of the New Testament. So far from being a
"rationalist," he was the most formidable opponent that "rationalism"
had; for his efforts were directed against the critical and theological
method, and in support of the spiritual method of dealing with religious
truths. In explaining religion as being in its primitive character a
sense of divine things in the soul, and as having its seat, not in
knowledge, nor yet in action, neither in theology nor in morality, but
in feeling, in aspiration, longing, love, veneration, conscious
dependence, filial trust, he deprived "rationalism" of its strength.
Hence his attraction for liberal orthodox believers in America.
Schleiermacher had as many disciples among the Congregationalists as
among their antagonists of the opposite school. Professors Edwards and
Park included thoughts of his in their "Selections from German
Literature." The pulpit transcendentalists acknowledged their
indebtedness to him, and the debt they acknowledged was sentimental
rather than intellectual. They thanked him for the spirit of fervent
piety, deep, cordial, human, unlimited in generosity, untrammelled by
logical distinctions, rather than for new light on philosophical
problems. His bursts of eloquent enthusiasm over men whom the church
outlawed--Spinoza for example--made amends with them for the absence of
doctrinal exactness. A warm sympathy with those who detached religion
from dogma, and recognized the religious sentiment under its most
diverse forms, was characteristic of the new spirit that burned in New
England. Schleiermacher was one of the first and foremost to encourage
such sympathy: he based it on the idea that man was by nature religious,
endowed with spiritual faculties, and that was welcome tidings; and
though he retained the essence of the evangelical system, he retained it
in a form that could be dropped without injury to the principle by which
it was justified. Thus Schleiermacher strengthened the very positions he
assailed, and gave aid and comfort to the enemy he would overthrow. The
transcendentalists, it is true, employed against the "rationalists" the
weapons that he put into their hands. At the same time they left as
unimportant the theological system which his weapons were manufactured
to support.
But it was through the literature of Germany that the transcendental
philosophy chiefly communicated itself. Goethe, Richter and Novalis were
more persuasive teachers than Kant, Jacobi or Fichte. To those who
could not read German these authors were interpreted by Thomas Carlyle,
who took up the cause of German philosophy and literature, and wrote
about them with passionate power in the English reviews; not contenting
himself with giving surface accounts of them, but plunging boldly into
the depths, and carrying his readers with him through discussions that,
but for his persuasive eloquence, would have had little charm to
ordinary minds. Goethe and Richter were his heroes: their methods and
opinions are of the greatest account with him; and he leaves nothing
unexplained of the intellectual foundations on which they builded.
Consequently in the remarkable papers that Carlyle wrote about them and
their books, full report is given of the place held by the Kantean
philosophy in their culture. The article on Novalis, in the "Foreign
Review" of 1829, No. 7, presents with a master hand the peculiarities of
the new metaphysics that were regenerating the German mind. Regenerating
is not too strong a word for the influence that he ascribes to it. Thus
in 1827 he wrote in the "Edinburgh Review:"
"The critical philosophy has been regarded by persons of approved
judgment, and nowise directly implicated in the furthering of it, as
distinctly the greatest intellectual achievement of the century in which
it came to light. August Wilhelm Schlegel has stated in plain terms his
belief that in respect of its probable influence on the moral culture of
Europe, it stands on a line with the Reformation. We mention Schlegel as
a man whose opinion has a known value among ourselves. But the worth of
Kant's philosophy is not to be gathered from votes alone. The noble
system of morality, the purer theology, the lofty views of man's nature
derived from it; nay, perhaps the very discussion of such matters, to
which it gave so strong an impetus, have told with remarkable and
beneficial influence on the whole spiritual character of Germany. No
writer of any importance in that country, be he acquainted or not with
the critical philosophy, but breathes a spirit of devoutness and
elevation more or less directly drawn from it. Such men as Goethe and
Schiller cannot exist without effect in any literature or any century;
but if one circumstance more than another has contributed to forward
their endeavors and introduce that higher tone into the literature of
Germany, it has been this philosophical system, to which, in wisely
believing its results, or even in wisely denying them, all that was
lofty and pure in the genius of poetry or the reason of man so readily
allied itself."
After quoting from "Meister's Apprenticeship" a noble passage on the
spiritual function of art, Carlyle comments thus: "To adopt such
sentiments into his sober practical persuasion; in any measure to feel
and believe that such was still and must always be, the high vocation of
the poet; on this ground of universal humanity, of ancient and now
almost forgotten nobleness, to take his stand, even in these trivial,
jeering, withered, unbelieving days, and through all their complex,
dispiriting, mean, yet tumultuous influences, to make his light shine
before men that it might beautify even our rag-gathering age with some
beams of that mild divine splendor which had long left us, the very
possibility of which was denied; heartily and in earnest to meditate all
this was no common proceeding; to bring it into practice, especially in
such a life as his has been, was among the highest and hardest
enterprises which any man whatever could engage in."
From Schiller's correspondence with Goethe, Carlyle quotes the following
tribute to the Kantean philosophy: "From the opponents of the new
philosophy I expect not that tolerance which is shown to every other
system no better seen into than this; for Kant's philosophy itself, in
its leading points, practises no tolerance, and bears much too rigorous
a character to leave any room for accommodation. But in my eyes this
does it honor, proving how little it can endure to have truth tampered
with. Such a philosophy will not be shaken to pieces by a mere shake of
the head. In the open, clear, accessible field of inquiry it builds up
its system, seeks no shade, makes no reservation, but even as it treats
its neighbors, so it requires to be treated, and may be forgiven for
lightly esteeming everything but proofs. Nor am I terrified to think
that the law of change, from which no human and no divine work finds
grace, will operate on this philosophy as on every other, and one day
its form will be destroyed, but its foundations will not have this fate
to fear, for ever since mankind has existed, and any reason among
mankind, these same first principles have been admitted, and on the
whole, acted on."
Of Richter he writes: "Richter's philosophy, a matter of no ordinary
interest, both as it agrees with the common philosophy of Germany, and
disagrees with it, must not be touched on for the present. One only
observation we shall make: it is not mechanical or sceptical; it springs
not from the forum or the laboratory, but from the depths of the human
spirit, and yields as its fairest product a noble system of morality,
and the firmest conviction of religion. An intense and continual faith
in man's immortality and native grandeur accompanies him; from amid the
vortices of life he looks up to a heavenly loadstar; the solution of
what is visible and transient, he finds in what is invisible and
eternal. He has doubted, he denies, yet he believes."
Of Novalis, scarcely more than a name to Americans, the same oracle
speaks thus: "The aim of Novalis' whole philosophy is to preach and
establish the majesty of reason, in the strict philosophical sense; to
conquer for it all provinces of human thought, and everywhere resolve
its vassal understanding into fealty, the right and only useful relation
for it. How deeply these and the like principles (those of the Kantean
philosophy) had impressed themselves on Novalis, we see more and more
the further we study his writings. Naturally a deep, religious,
contemplative spirit, purified also by harsh affliction, and familiar in
the 'Sanctuary of Sorrow,' he comes before us as the most ideal of all
idealists. For him the material creation is but an appearance, a typical
shadow in which the Deity manifests himself to man. Not only has the
unseen world a reality, but the only reality; the rest being not
metaphorically, but literally and in scientific strictness, 'a show;'
in the words of the poet:
'Sound and smoke overclouding the splendor of heaven!'
The invisible world is near us; or rather, it is here, in us and about
us; were the fleshly coil removed from our soul, the glories of the
unseen were even now around us, as the ancients fabled of the spheral
music. Thus, not in word only, but in truth and sober belief he feels
himself encompassed by the Godhead; feels in every thought that 'in Him
he lives, moves, and has his being.'"
These declarations from a man who was becoming prominent in the world of
literature, and whose papers were widely and enthusiastically read, had
great weight with people to whom the German was an unknown tongue. But
it was not an unknown tongue to all, and they who had mastered it were
active communicators of its treasures. Carlyle's efforts at interesting
English readers through his remarkable translation of Wilhelm Meister,
and the "Specimens of German Romance," which contained pieces by Tieck,
Jean Paul, Hoffmann, and Musaeus, published in 1827, were seconded here
by F. H. Hedge, C. T. Brooks, J. S. Dwight, and others, who made
familiar to the American public the choicest poems of the most famous
German bards. Richter became well known by his "Autobiography," "Quintus
Fixlein," "Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces," "Hesperus," "Titan," "The
Campaner Thal," the writings and versions of Madame de Stael. The third
volume of the "Dial," July, 1841, opened with a remarkable paper on
Goethe, by Margaret Fuller. The pages of the "Dial" abounded in
references to Goethe's ideas and writings. No author occupied the
cultivated New England mind as much as he did. None of these writers
taught formally the doctrines of the transcendental philosophy, but they
reflected one or another aspect of it. They assumed its cardinal
principles in historical and literary criticism, in dramatic art, in
poetry and romance. They conveyed its spirit of aspiration after ideal
standards of perfection. They caught from it their judgments on society
and religion. They communicated its aroma, and so imparted the
quickening breath of its soul to people who would have started back in
alarm from its doctrines.