While I was reading over the letters which had been written to my sister

from Leipzig, this remark, among others, could not escape me,--that,

from the very beginning of my academical course, I had esteemed myself

very clever and wise, since, as soon as I had learned any thing, I put

myself in the place of the professor, and so became didactic on the

spot. I was amused to see how I had immediately applied to my sister

whatever Gellert had imparted or advised in his lectures, without

seeing, that, both in life and in books, a thing may be proper for a

young man without being suitable for a young lady; and we both together

made merry over these mimicries. The poems also which I had composed in

Leipzig were already too poor for me; and they seemed to me cold, dry,

and, in respect of all that was meant to express the state of the human

heart or mind, too superficial. This induced me, now that I was to leave

my father's house once more, and go to a second university, again to

decree a great high /auto-da-fé/ against my labors. Several

commenced plays, some of which had reached the third or the fourth act,

while others had only the plot fully made out, together with many other

poems, letters, and papers, were given over to the fire: and scarcely

any thing was spared except the manuscript by Behrisch, "Die Laune des

Verliebten" and "Die Mitschuldigen," which latter play I constantly went

on improving with peculiar affection; and, as the piece was already

complete, I again worked over the plot, to make it more bustling and

intelligible. Lessing, in the first two acts of his "Minna," had set up

an unattainable model of the way in which a drama should be developed;

and nothing was to me of greater importance than to thoroughly enter

into his meaning and views.

The recital of whatever moved, excited, and occupied me at this time, is

already circumstantial enough; but I must nevertheless recur to that

interest with which supersensuous things had inspired me, of which I,

once for all, so far as might be possible, undertook to form some

notion.

I experienced a great influence from an important work that fell into my

hands: it was Arnold's "History of the Church and of Heretics." This man

is not merely a reflective historian, but at the same time pious and

feeling. His sentiments chimed in very well with mine; and what

particularly delighted me in his work was, that I received a more

favorable notion of many heretics, who had been hitherto represented to

me as mad or impious. The spirit of contradiction and the love of

paradoxes are inherent in us all. I diligently studied the different

opinions: and as I had often enough heard it said that every man has his

own religion at last, so nothing seemed more natural to me than that I

should form mine too; and this I did with much satisfaction. The Neo-

Platonism lay at the foundation; the hermetical, the mystical, the

cabalistic, also contributed their share; and thus I built for myself a

world that looked strange enough.

I could well represent to myself a Godhead which has gone on producing

itself from all eternity; but, as production cannot be conceived without

multiplicity, so it must of necessity have immediately appeared to

itself as a Second, which we recognize under the name of the Son: now,

these two must continue the act of producing, and again appear to

themselves in a Third, which was just as substantial, living, and

eternal as the Whole. With these, however, the circle of the Godhead was

complete; and it would not have been possible for them to produce

another perfectly equal to them. But, since the work of production

always proceeded, they created a fourth, which already fostered in

himself a contradiction, inasmuch as it was, like them, unlimited, and

yet at the same time was to be contained in them and bounded by them.

Now, this was Lucifer, to whom the whole power of creation was committed

from this time, and from whom all other beings were to proceed. He

immediately displayed his infinite activity by creating the whole body

of angels,--all, again, after his own likeness, unlimited, but contained

in him and bounded by him. Surrounded by such a glory, he forgot his

higher origin, and believed that he could find himself in himself; and

from this first ingratitude sprang all that does not seem to us in

accordance with the will and purposes of the Godhead. Now, the more he

concentrated himself within himself, the more painful must it have

become to him, as well as to all the spirits whose sweet uprising to

their origin he had embittered. And so that happened which is intimated

to us under the form of the Fall of the Angels. One part of them

concentrated itself with Lucifer, the other turned itself again to its

origin. From this concentration of the whole creation--for it had

proceeded out of Lucifer, and was forced to follow him--sprang all that

we perceive under the form of matter, which we figure to ourselves as

heavy, solid, and dark, but which, since it is descended, if not even

immediately, yet by filiation, from the Divine Being, is just as

unlimited, powerful, and eternal as its sire and grandsire. Now, the

whole mischief, if we may call it so, having arisen merely through the

one-sided direction of Lucifer, the better half was indeed wanting to

this creation; for it possessed all that is gained by concentration,

while it lacked all that can be effected by expansion alone: and so the

entire creation might have been destroyed by everlasting concentration,

become annihilated with its father Lucifer, and have lost all its claims

to an equal eternity with the Godhead. This condition the Elohim

contemplated for a time: and they had their choice, to wait for those

eons, in which the field would again have become clear, and space would

be left them for a new creation; or, if they would, to seize upon that

which existed already, and supply the want, according to their own

eternity. Now, they chose the latter, and by their mere will supplied in

an instant the whole want which the consequence of Lucifer's undertaking

drew after it. They gave to the Eternal Being the faculty of expansion,

of moving towards them: the peculiar pulse of life was again restored,

and Lucifer himself could not avoid its effects. This is the epoch when

that appeared which we know as light, and when that began which we are

accustomed to designate by the word creation. However much this

multiplied itself by progressive degrees, through the continually

working vital power of the Elohim, still a being was wanting who might

be able to restore the original connection with the Godhead: and thus

man was produced, who in all things was to be similar, yea, equal to the

Godhead, but thereby, in effect, found himself once more in the

situation of Lucifer, that of being at once unlimited and limited; and

since this contradiction was to manifest itself in him through all the

categories of existence, and a perfect consciousness, as well as a

decided will, was to accompany his various conditions, it was to be

foreseen that he must be at the same time the most perfect and the most

imperfect, the most happy and the most unhappy, creature. It was not

long before he, too, completely acted the part of Lucifer. True

ingratitude is the separation from the benefactor; and thus that fall

was manifest for the second time, although the whole creation is nothing

and was nothing but a falling from and returning to the original.

One easily sees how the Redemption is not only decreed from eternity,

but is considered as eternally necessary,--nay, that it must ever renew

itself through the whole time of generation [Footnote: "Das Werden," the

state of becoming, as distinguished from that of being. The word, which

is most useful to the Germans, can never be rendered properly in

English.--TRANS.] and existence. In this view of the subject, nothing is

more natural than for the Divinity himself to take the form of man,

which had already prepared itself as a veil, and to share his fate for a

short time, in order, by this assimilation, to enhance his joys and

alleviate his sorrows. The history of all religions and philosophies

teaches us, that this great truth, indispensable to man, has been handed

down by different nations, in different times, in various ways, and even

in strange fables and images, in accordance with their limited

knowledge: enough, if it only be acknowledged that we find ourselves in

a condition which, even if it seems to drag us down and oppress us, yet

gives us opportunity, nay, even makes it our duty, to raise ourselves

up, and to fulfil the purposes of the Godhead in this manner, that,

while we are compelled on the one hand to concentrate ourselves (/uns

zu verselbsten/), we, on the other hand, do not omit to expand

ourselves (/uns zu entselbstigen/) in regular pulsation. [Footnote:

If we could make use of some such verbs as "inself" and "unself," we

should more accurately render this passage.--TRANS.]

NINTH BOOK.

"The heart is often affected, moreover, to the advantage of different,

but especially of social and refined, virtues; and the more tender

sentiments are excited and unfolded in it. Many touches, in particular,

will impress themselves, which give the young reader an insight into the

more hidden corner of the human heart and its passions,--a knowledge

which is more worth than all Latin and Greek, and of which Ovid was a

very excellent master. But yet it is not on this account that the

classic poets, and therefore Ovid, are placed in the hands of youth. We

have received from a kind Creator a variety of mental powers, to which

we must not neglect giving their proper culture in our earliest years,

and which cannot be cultivated, either by logic or metaphysics, Latin or

Greek. We have an imagination, before which, since it should not seize

upon the very first conceptions that chance to present themselves, we

ought to place the fittest and most beautiful images, and thus accustom

and practise the mind to recognize and love the beautiful everywhere,

and in nature itself, under its determined, true, and also in its finer,

features. A multitude of conceptions and general knowledge is necessary

to us, as well for the sciences as for daily life, which can be learned

out of no compendium. Our feelings, affections, and passions should be

advantageously developed and purified."

This significant passage, which is found in "The Universal German

Library," was not the only one of its kind. Similar principles and

similar views manifested themselves in many directions. They made upon

us lively youths a very great impression, which had the more decided

effect, as it was strengthened besides by Wieland's example; for the

works of his second brilliant period clearly showed that he had formed

himself according to such maxims. And what more could we desire?

Philosophy, with its abstruse questions, was set aside; the classic

languages, the acquisition of which is accompanied by so much drudgery,

one saw thrust into the background; the compendiums, about the

sufficiency of which Hamlet had already whispered a word of caution into

our ears, came more and more into suspicion. We were directed to the

contemplation of an active life, which we were so fond of leading; and

to the knowledge of the passions, which we partly felt, partly

anticipated, in our own bosoms, and which, if though they had been

rebuked formerly, now appeared to us as something important and

dignified, because they were to be the chief object of our studies; and

the knowledge of them was extolled as the most excellent means of

cultivating our mental powers. Besides, such a mode of thought was quite

in accordance with my own conviction,--nay, with my poetical mode of

treatment. I therefore, without opposition, after I had thwarted so many

good designs, and seen so many fair hopes vanish, reconciled myself to

my father's intention of sending me to Strasburg, where I was promised a

cheerful, gay life, while I should prosecute my studies, and at last

take my degree.

In spring I felt my health, but still more my youthful spirits,

restored, and once more longed to be out of my father's house, though

with reasons far different from those on the first time. The pretty

chambers and spots where I had suffered so much had become disagreeable

to me, and with my father himself there could be no pleasant relation. I

could not quite pardon him for having manifested more impatience than

was reasonable at the relapse of my disease, and at my tedious recovery;

nay, for having, instead of comforting me by forbearance, frequently

expressed himself in a cruel manner, about that which lay in no man's

hand, as if it depended only on the will. And he, too, was in various

ways hurt and offended by me.

For young people bring back from the university general ideas, which,

indeed, is quite right and good; but, because they fancy themselves very

wise in this, they apply them as a standard to the objects that occur,

which must then, for the most part, lose by the comparison. Thus I had

gained a general notion of architecture, and of the arrangement and

decoration of houses, and imprudently, in conversation, had applied this

to our own house. My father had designed the whole arrangement of it,

and carried out its construction with great perseverance; and,

considering that it was to be exclusively a residence for himself and

his family, nothing could be objected to it: in this taste, also, very

many of the houses in Frankfort were built. An open staircase ran up

through the house, and touched upon large ante-rooms, which might very

well have been chambers themselves, as, indeed, we always passed the

fine season in them. But this pleasant, cheerful existence for a single

family--this communication from above to below--became the greatest

inconvenience as soon as several parties occupied the house, as we had

but too well experienced on the occasion of the French quartering. For

that painful scene with the king's lieutenant would not have happened,

nay, my father would even have felt all those disagreeable matters less,

if, after the Leipzig fashion, our staircase had run close along the

side of the house, and a separate door had been given to each story.

This style of building I once praised highly for its advantages, and

showed my father the possibility of altering his staircase also; whereat

he got into an incredible passion, which was the more violent as, a

short time before, I had found fault with some scrolled looking-glass

frames, and rejected certain Chinese hangings. A scene ensued, which,

indeed, was again hushed up and smothered; but it hastened my journey to

the beautiful Alsace, which I accomplished in a newly contrived

comfortable diligence, without delay, and in a short time.

I had alighted at the Ghost (/Geist/) tavern, and hastened at once

to satisfy my most earnest desire and to approach the minster, which had

long since been pointed out to me by fellow-travellers, and had been

before my eyes for a great distance. When I first perceived this

Colossus through the narrow lanes, and then stood too near before it, in

the truly confined little square, it made upon me an impression quite of

its own kind, which I, being unable to analyze on the spot, carried with

me only indistinctly for this time, as I hastily ascended the building,

so as not to neglect the beautiful moment of a high and cheerful sun,

which was to disclose to me at once the broad, rich land.

And now, from the platform, I saw before me the beautiful country in

which I should for a long time live and reside: the handsome city; the

wide-spreading meadows around it, thickly set and interwoven with

magnificent trees; that striking richness of vegetation which follows in

the windings of the Rhine, marks its banks, islands, and aits. Nor is

the level ground, stretching down from the south, and watered by the

Iller, less adorned with varied green. Even westward, towards the

mountains, there are many low grounds, which afford quite as charming a

view of wood and meadow-growth, just as the northern and more hilly part

is intersected by innumerable little brooks, which promote a rapid

vegetation everywhere. If one imagines, between these luxuriantly

outstretched meads, between these joyously scattered groves, all land

adapted for tillage, excellently prepared, verdant, and ripening, and

the best and richest spots marked by hamlets and farmhouses, and this

great and immeasurable plain, prepared for man, like a new paradise,

bounded far and near by mountains partly cultivated, partly overgrown

with woods, he will then conceive the rapture with which I blessed my

fate, that it had destined me, for some time, so beautiful a dwelling-

place.

Such a fresh glance into a new land in which we are to abide for a time,

has still the peculiarity, both pleasant and foreboding, that the whole

lies before us like an unwritten tablet. As yet no sorrows and joys

which relate to ourselves are recorded upon it; this cheerful, varied,

animated plain is still mute for us; the eye is only fixed on the

objects so far as they are intrinsically important, and neither

affection nor passion has especially to render prominent this or that

spot. But a presentiment of the future already disquiets the young

heart; and an unsatisfied craving secretly demands that which is to come

and may come, and which at all events, whether for good or ill, will

imperceptibly assume the character of the spot in which we find

ourselves.

Having descended the height, I still tarried a while before the face of

the venerable pile; but what I could not quite clearly make out, either

the first or the following time, was, that I regarded this miracle as a

monster, which must have terrified me, if it had not, at the same time,

appeared to me comprehensible by its regularity, and even pleasing in

its finish. Yet I by no means busied myself with meditating on this

contradiction, but suffered a monument so astonishing quietly to work

upon me by its presence.

I took small, but well-situated and pleasant, lodgings, on the north

side of the Fish-market, a fine, long street, where the everlasting

motion came to the assistance of every unoccupied moment. I then

delivered my letters of introduction, and found among my patrons a

merchant, who, with his family, was devoted to those pious opinions

sufficiently known to me, although, as far as regarded external worship,

he had not separated from the Church. He was a man of intelligence

withal, and by no means hypocritical in his conduct. The company of

boarders which was recommended to me, and, indeed, I to it, was very

agreeable and entertaining. A couple of old maids had long kept up this

boarding-house with regularity and good success: there might have been

about ten persons, older and younger. Of these latter, one named Meyer,

a native of Lindau, is most vividly present to my mind. From his form

and face he might have been considered one of the handsomest of men, if,

at the same time, he had not had something of the sloven in his whole

appearance. In like manner his splendid natural talents were marred by

an incredible levity, and his excellent temper by an unbounded

dissoluteness. He had an open, jovial face, rather more round than oval:

the organs of the senses, the eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, could be

called rich; they showed a decided fulness, without being too large. His

mouth was particularly charming, owing to his curling lips; and his

whole physiognomy had the peculiar expression of a rake, from the

circumstance that his eyebrows met across his nose, which, in a handsome

face, always produces a pleasant expression of sensuality. By his

jovialness, sincerity, and good nature, he made himself beloved by all.

His memory was incredible; attention at the lectures was no effort for

him; he retained all he heard, and was intellectual enough to take an

interest in every thing, and this the more easily, as he was studying

medicine. All his impressions remained vivid; and his waggery in

repeating the lectures and mimicking the professors often went so far,

that, when he had heard three different lectures in one morning, he

would, at the dinner-table, interchange the professors with each other,

paragraphwise, and often even more abruptly, which motley lecture

frequently entertained us, but often, too, became troublesome.

The rest were more or less polite, steady, serious people. A pensioned

knight of the order of St. Louis was one of these: but the majority were

students, all really good and well-disposed; only they were not allowed

to go beyond their usual allowance of wine. That this should not be

easily done was the care of our president, one Doctor Salzmann. Already

in the sixties and unmarried, he had attended this dinner-table for many

years, and maintained its good order and respectability. He possessed a

handsome property, kept himself close and neat in his exterior, even

belonging to those who always go in shoes and stockings, and with their

hat under their arm. To put on the hat was with him an extraordinary

action. He commonly carried an umbrella, wisely reflecting that the

finest summer-days often bring thunder-storms and passing showers over

the country.

With this man I talked over my design of continuing to study

jurisprudence at Strasburg, so as to be able to take my degree as soon

as possible. Since he was exactly informed of every thing, I asked him

about the lectures I should have to hear, and what he generally thought

of the matter. To this he replied, that it was not in Strasburg as in

the German universities, where they try to educate jurists in the large

and learned sense of the term. Here, in conformity with the relation

towards France, all was really directed to the practical, and managed in

accordance with the opinions of the French, who readily stop at what is

given. They tried to impart to every one certain general principles and

preliminary knowledge, they compressed as much as possible, and

communicated only what was most necessary. Hereupon he made me

acquainted with a man, in whom, as a /repetent/, [Footnote: A

repetent is one of a class of persons to be found in the German

universities, and who assist students in their studies. They are

somewhat analogous to the English tutors, but not precisely: for the

latter render their aid /before/ the recitation; while the repetent

/repeats/ with the student, in private, the lectures he has

previously heard from the professor. Hence his name, which might be

rendered /repeater/, had we any corresponding class of men in

England or America, which would justify an English word.--/American

Note/.] great confidence was entertained; which he very soon managed

to gain from me also. By way of introduction, I began to speak with him

on subjects of jurisprudence; and he wondered not a little at my

swaggering: for, during my residence at Leipzig, I had gained more of an

insight into the requisites for the law than I have hitherto taken

occasion to state in my narrative, though all I had acquired could only

be reckoned as a general encyclopedical survey, and not as proper

definite knowledge. University life, even if in the course of it we may

not exactly have to boast of industry, nevertheless affords endless

advantages in every kind of cultivation, because we are always

surrounded by men who either possess or are seeking science, so that,

even if unconsciously, we are constantly drawing some nourishment from

such an atmosphere.

My repetent, after he had had patience with my rambling discourse for

some time, gave me at last to understand that I must first of all keep

my immediate object in view, which was, to be examined, to take my

degree, and then, perchance, to commence practice. "Regarding the

former," said he, "the subject is by no means investigated at large. It

is inquired how and when a law arose, and what gave the internal or

external occasion for it: there is no inquiry as to how it has been

altered by time and custom, or how far it has perhaps been perverted by

false interpretation or the perverted usage of the courts. It is in such

investigations that learned men quite peculiarly spend their lives,

whereas we inquire into that which exists at present: this we stamp

firmly on our memory, that it may always be ready when we wish to employ

it for the use and defence of our clients. Thus we qualify our young

people for their future life, and the rest follows in proportion to

their talents and activity." Hereupon he handed me his pamphlets, which

were written in question and answer, and in which I could have stood a

pretty good examination at once; for Hopp's smaller law-catechism was

yet perfectly in my memory: the rest I supplied with some diligence,

and, against my will, qualified myself in the easiest manner as a

candidate.

But since in this way all my own activity in the study was cut off,--for

I had no sense for any thing positive, but wished to have every thing

explained historically, if not intelligibly,--I found for my powers a

wider field, which I employed in the most singular manner by devoting

myself to a matter of interest which was accidentally presented to me

from without.

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