LETTER FROM REINHOLD. 93 affection and sympathy of his more daring correspondent; — while the frequent misunderstandings which lend an almost dramatic interest to their letters, afford room for the exhibition of manly and generous kindness in both. In 1797 Reinhold abandoned his own system and accepted the " Wissenschaftslehre," announcing the change to Fichte in the following terms: — " I have at length come to understand your " Wiss enschaftslehre," or, what is the same thing to me — philosophy without nickname. It now stands before me as a perfect whole, founded on itself — the pure conception of self-conscious Reason, — the mirror of our better selves. Individual parts are still obscure to me, but they cannot now deprive me of my comprehension of the whole; and their number is every day diminish ing. Beside it lie the ruins of the edifice which cost me so much time and labour, in which I thought to dwell so securely and commodiously, to entertain so many guests, — in which I laughed, not without self-gratulation, over so many Kantists who mistook the scaffolding for the house itself. This catastrophe would have caused me much pain for a time, if it had happened by the hand of scepticism."
" Adieu! I salute you with deepest gratitude. Is personal intercourse absolutely necessary to the growth of friendship? I doubt it. For indeed it is not mere gratitude, not mere reverence, — it is heartfelt love that I feel for you, since I now, through your philo sophy, understand yourself."
In Fichte's literary correspondence while at Zurich we find the first intimations of his departure from the system of Kant, and his plan of a complete and com- 94 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
prehensive philosophy. He could not rest satisfied with results alone, unless he could perceive the grounds on which they rested. His reason imperatively de manded absolute unity of conception, without separa tion, without division, — above all, without opposition. Writing to ISiethammer in October 1793 he says — " My conviction is that Kant has only indicated the truth, but neither unfolded nor proved it. This singular man either has a power of divining truth, without being himself conscious of the grounds on which it rests; or he has not esteemed his age worthy of the communication of those grounds; or he has shrunk from attracting that superhuman reverence during his life, which sooner or later must be his in some degree." And as the great idea of his own system dawned upon his mind, he says to Stephani, — '• I have discovered a new principle, from which all philosophy can easily be deduced In a couple of years we shall have a philosophy with all the clearness of geometrical demonstration." — To the development of this scheme he devoted all the energies of his powerful intellect, during the leisure of his re tirement. He refused an invitation to become tutor to the Prince of Mecklenberg-Strelitz: — " I desire," he says, "nothing but leisure to execute my plan, — then fortune may do with me what it will."
But his studies were soon broken in upon by a call of another and more important nature. This was his appointment as Professor Supernumerarius of Philo sophy at the Univerity of Jena, in room of Reinhold, who removed to Kiel. The distinguished honour of this invitation, unasked and unexpected, and the ex tensive field of usefulness which it opened up to him.
INVITATION TO JENA. 95 determined Fichte at once to accept it. Unable, how ever, to satisfy himself that his views were as yet so fully matured and settled, as to justify him in entering at once on the important duties of a teacher, invested as these were to his mind with a peculiar sacredness and solemnity, he endeavoured to obtain a postpone ment of his inauguration which had been fixed for Easter 1794, in order that, by the more complete elaboration of the principle which he had discovered, he might be able to elevate his philosophy at once to the rank of positive science. For this purpose he requested a year's delay. But as it was considered that the interest of the University would be prejudiced by the chair remaining so long vacant, his request was refused,— with permission, however, to devote the greater part of his time, during the first year, to study. He therefore sent an unconditional acceptance, .and plunged at once into the most arduous preparation for his new duties.
Weimar and its neighbouring University was at this time the focus of German literature and learning. The Grand Duke Charles Augustus had gathered around him the most distinguished men of his age, and Wieland, Herder, Goethe, Schiller and Humboldt shed a more than Medicean lustre upon the little Saxon Court. Probably at no other period was so much high genius, engaged in every department of mental exertion, gathered together in one spot. The Uni versity, too, was the most numerously frequented of any in Germany, not by the youth of Saxony alone, but by students from almost every part of Europe: Switzerland, Denmark, Poland, Hungary, the Free 96 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
Cities, and even France, sent their sons to Jena for education. The brilliant intellectual circle at Weimar presented to the cultivated mind attractions which could be found nowhere else, whilst at Jena the academic teacher found a most extensive and honourable field for the exercise of his powers. It was to this busy scene of mental activity that Fichte was called from his Swiss retreat, — to the society of the greatest living men, — to the instruction of this thronging crowd from all sur rounding nations. Previous to his own appearance, he published as a programme of his lectures, the " Bcgriff der Wissenschaftslehre, oder der Sogenannten Philo sophic." The high reputation he had already acquired, and the bold originality of his system, drew universal attention. Expectation was strained to the utmost; so that those who had marked the rapid growth of his fame had great apparent reason to fear that it might prove short-lived. But notwithstanding the shortness of the^ time allowed him for preparation, he entered upon his course with a clear perception of the task that lay before him, and confident reliance on his own power to fulfil the important duties to which he was called.
He arrived at Jena on the 18th of May 1794, and was received with great kindness by his colleagues at the University. On the 23d he delivered his first lecture. The largest hall in Jena, although crowded to the roof, proved insufficient to contain the audience. His singular and commanding address, his fervid, fiery eloquence, the rich profusion of his thoughts, following each other in the most convincing sequence and mo delled with the sharpest precision, astonished and de lighted his hearers. His triumph was complete; — he left the Hall the most popular Professor of the great- PROFESSORSHIP AT JENA. 97 est University in Germany. The following acute and graphic remarks on this subject, from Forberg's " Frag- menten aus meinen Papieren," afford us some glimpse of the opinions entertained of him by his contempo raries at Jena:— "Jena, 12th May 1794.
" I look with great confidence to Fichte, who is daily expected here. But I would have had still greater confidence in him if he had written the " Kritik der Offenbarung" twenty years later. A young man who ventures to write a masterpiece must commonly suffer for it. He is what he is, and he will not be what he might have been. He has spent his strength too soon, and his later fruits will at least want ripe ness. A great mind has no merit if it does not possess sufficient resignation not to appear great for a time, that thereby it may become greater. If a man cannot sacrifice a dozen years' fame as an offering to truth, what else can he lay upon her altar? I believe that Ileinhold's theory has done much injury to the study of the Kantian philosophy, but that is nothing to the injury it has done to the author himself. His philo sophy is finished for this world, — nothing more is to be expected from him but polemics and reminiscences. Fichte is not here yet, — but I am eager to know whether he has anything still to learn. It would be almost a wonder if he had, considering the incense that they burn before him. Oh! there is nothing so easily unlearned as the power of learning."
" Since Reinhold has left us, his philosophy (with us at least) has expired. Every trace of the " Philoso- 98 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
phy without nickname" has vanished from among the students. Fichte is believed in, as Rcinhold never was believed in. They understand him indeed even less than they did his predecessor; but they believe all the more obstinately on that account. Ego and Non-Ego are now the symbols of the philosophers of yesterday, as substance and form were formerly.
" Fichte's philosophy is, so to speak, more philoso phical than Reinhold's. You hear him going digging and seeking after truth. In rough masses he brings it forth from the deep, and throws it from him. He does not say what he will do; he does it. Reinhold's doctrine was rather an announcement of a philosophy, than a philosophy itself. He has never fulfilled his promises. Not unfrequently did he give forth the promise for the fulfilment. He never will fulfil them, —for he is now past away. Fichte seems really de termined to work upon the world through his philo sophy. The tendency to restless activity which dwells in the breast of every noble youth he would carefully nourish and cultivate, that it may in due season bring forth fruit. He seizes every opportunity of teaching that action — action — is the vocation of man; whereby it is only to be feared that the majority of young men who lay the maxim to heart may look upon this sum mons to action as only a summons to demolition. And, strictly speaking, the principle is false. Man is not called upon to act, but to act justly; if he cannot act without acting unjustly, he had better remain inactive, " Every reader of Kant or Fichte is seized by a deep feeling of the superiority of these mighty minds; who wrestle with their subjects, as it were, to grind them to powder; who seem to say all that they do say to us, FICHTE AND REINHOLD. 99 only that we may conjecture how much more they could say.
" All the truth that J has written is not worth a tenth part of the false which Fichte may have writ ten. The one gives me a small number of known truths; the other gives me perhaps one truth, but in doing so, opens before me the prospect of an infinity of unknown truths.
"It is certain that in Fichte's philosophy there is quite a different spirit from that which prevades the philosophy of his predecessor. The spirit of the latter is a weak, fearful spirit, which timidly includes wide, narrow, and narrowest shades of meaning between the hedges and fences of a " to some extent" and " in so far;" — a weak, exhausted spirit, which conceals (and ill-conceals) its poverty of thought behind the mantle of scholastic phraseology, and whose philosophy is form without substance, a skeleton without flesh and blood, body without life, promise without fulfilment. But the spirit of Fichte's philosophy is a proud and bold spirit, for which the domain of human know ledge, even in its widest extent, is too narrow; which opens up new paths at every step it takes; which struggles with language in order to wrest from it words enough for its wealth of thought; which does not lead us, but seizes and hurries us along, and whose finger cannot touch an object without bruising it to dust. But that which especially gives Fichte's philo sophy quite another interest from that of Reinhold, is this, — that in all his inquiries there is a motion, a struggle, an effort, thoroughly to solve the hardest problems of Reason. His predecessor never appeared to suspect the existence of these problems — to say 100 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
nothing of their solution. Fichte's philosophemes are inquiries in which we see the truth before our eyes, and thus they produce knowledge and conviction. Keinhold's philosophemes are exhibitions of results, the production of which goes on behind the scenes. We may believe, but we cannot know!..." The fundamental element of Fichte's character is the highest honesty. Such a character commonly knows little of delicacy and refinement. In his wri tings we do not meet with much that is particularly beautiful; his best passages are always distinguished by greatness and strength. He does not say fine things, but all his words have force and weight. He wants the amiable, kind, attractive, accommodating spirit of Reinhold. His principles are severe, and not much softened by humanity. Nevertheless he suffers — what Reinhold could not suffer — contradiction; and understands — what Reinhold could not understand — a joke. His superiority is not felt to be so humiliating as that of Reinhold; but when he is called forth, he is terrible. His is a restless spirit, thirsting for oppor tunity to do great things in the world.
" Fichte's public delivery does not flow on smoothly, sweetly, and softly, as Reinhold's did; it rushes along like a tempest, discharging its fire in separate masses. He does not move the soul as Reinhold did; he rouses it. The one seemed as if he would make men good; the other would make them great. Reinhold's face was mildness, and his form was majesty; Fichte's eye is threatening, and his step daring and defiant. Reinhold's philosophy was an endless polemic against Kantists and Anti-Kantists; Fichte, with his, desires to lead the spirit of the age, — he knows its weak side, and PUBLIC DELIVERY. 101 therefore he addresses it on the side of politics. He possesses more readiness, more acuteness, more pene tration, more genius, — in short, more spiritual power than Reinhold. His fancy is not flowing, but it is energetic and mighty; — his pictures are not charming, but they are bold and massive. He penetrates to the innermost depths of his subject, and moves about in the ideal world with an ease and confidence which pro claim that he not only dwells in that invisible land, but rules there."* * The following graphic sketch of Fichte's personal appearance and manner of delivery is taken from the Autobiography of Henry Steffens. Although it refers to a later period of his life, it is thought most appropriate to introduce it here: — " Fichte appeared, to deliver his introductory lecture on the Vocation of Man. This short, strong-built man, with sharp com manding features, made, I must confess, a most imposing appearance, as I then saw him for the first time. Even his language had a cutting sharpness. Well acquainted with the metaphysical incapacity of his hearers, he took the greatest possible pains fully to demonstrate his propositions; but there was an air of authoritativcness in his dis course, as if he would remove all doubts by mere word of command. ' Grentlemen,' said he, ' collect yourselves — go into yourselves — for we have here nothing to do with things without, but simply with the inner self.' Thus summoned, the auditors appeared really to go into themselves. Some, to facilitate the operation, changed their position, and stood up; some drew themselves together, and cast their eyes upon the floor: all were evidently waiting under high excitement for what was to follow this preparatory summons. ' Gen tlemen,' continued Fichte, ' think the wall,' — (3>mfen ©ie tne SOBanb.) This was a task to which the hearers were evidently all equal; they thought the wall. ' Have you thought the wall!' asked Fichte. ' Well then, gentlemen, think him who thought the wall.' It was curious to see the evident confusion and embarrassment that now arose. Many of his audience seemed to be utterly unable anywhere to find him who had thought the wall. — Fichte's delivery was ex cellent, being marked throughout by clearness and precision."
K2 102 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
It might naturally be supposed that a teacher pos sessed of so many qualities fitted to command the respect and admiration of his students could not fail to acquire a powerful influence, not only on the nature and direction of their studies, but also on their out ward relations. Accordingly we find Fichte, soon after his settlement at Jena, occupying a most commanding position towards the youth, not of his own depart ment merely, but of the whole University. Doubts had been entertained, even before his arrival, that his ardent and active spirit might lead him to use the influence he should acquire over the students for the furtherance of political projects. His supposed demo cratic opinions were even made a ground of objection to his appointment. And it cannot be affirmed that such anticipations were improbable; for certainly the tendency of his own character, and the peculiar circum stances of the age, presented strong temptations to convert the chair of the professor into the pulpit of the practical philanthropist. He himself says that he was assailed by not a few such temptations, and even invitations, at the beginning of his residence at Jena, but that he resolutely cast them from him. He was not one of those utilitarian philosophers who willingly sacrifice high and enduring good to the attainment of some partial and temporary purpose. His idea of the vocation of an academical teacher opened to him an other field of duty, superior to that of direct political activity. In all his intercourse with his pupils, public or private, his sole object was the development and cultivation of their moral and intellectual powers. No trace can be found of any attempt to lead his hearers upon the stage of actual life, while the opposition be- LANDSMANNSCHAFTEN. 103 tween the speculative and practical sides of their nature still existed. To reconcile this opposition was the great object of his philosophy. In his hands philo sophy was no longer speculation, but knowledge — (it was soon divested even of its scholastic terminology, and the Ego, Non-Ego, &c. entirely laid aside), — the expression of the profoundest thoughts of man, on himself, the world, and God; — while, on the other hand, morality was no preceptive legislation, but the natural development of the active principle of our own being, indissolubly bound up with, and indeed the essential root of, its intellectual aspect. Binding to gether into a common unity every mode and manifes tation of our nature, his philosophy is capable of the widest application, and of an almost infinite variety of expression; while in the ceaseless elevation of our whole being to higher grades of nobility and great ness is found at once its intellectual supremacy and its moral power.
So far indeed was Fichte from lending his counte nance to political combination among the students, or inculcating any sentiments subversive of the existing arrangements of society, — that no one suffered more than he did, from the clergy on the one hand, and the students on the other, in the attempt to maintain good order in the University. The unions known by the name of Landsmannschafteri existed at that time in the German schools of learning as they do now, but their proceedings were then marked by much greater turbulence and license than they are at the present day. Riots of the most violent description were of common occurrence; houses were broken into 101 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
and robbed of their contents to supply the marauders with the means of sensual indulgence. The arm of the law was impotent to restrain these excesses; and so bold had the unionists become, that upon one occa sion, when the house of a professor at Jena had been ransacked, five hundred students openly demanded from the Duke an amnesty for the offence. Efforts had been made at various times, by the academical authorities, to suppress these societies, but the students only broke out into more frightful excesses when any attempt was made to restrain their " Burschen-rights," or "Academical freedom." In the hope of effecting some reformation of manners in the University, Fichte commenced, soon after his arrival at Jena, a course of public lectures on academical morality. Five of these addresses were afterwards published under the title of " Die Bestimmung des Gelehrten," (The Vo cation of the Scholar.} They are distinguished by fervid and impressive eloquence, and set forth the dignity and duties of the Scholar, as deduced from the idea of his vocation, with clear, but sublime and spirit-stirring earnestness. He leaves no place for low motives or degrading propensities, but fills up his picture of the Scholar-life with the purest and most disinterested virtues of our nature. These lectures, and his own personal influence among the students, were attended with the happiest effects. The three orders which then existed at Jena expressed their willingness to dissolve their union, on condition of the past being forgotten. They delivered over to Fichte the books and papers of their society, for the purpose of being destroyed as soon as he could make their peace with the Court at Weimar, and receive a commission to administer to them the oath of renun ciation, which they would receive from no one but himself. 'After some delay, caused in part by the autho rities of the University, who seem to have been jealous of the success with which an individual professor had accomplished, without assistance, what they had in vain endeavoured to effect by threatenings and punish ment, the desired arrangements were effected, and the commission arrived. But in consequence of some doubts to which this delay had given rise, one of the three orders drew back from the engagement, and turned with great virulence against Fichte, whom they suspected of deceiving them.
Encouraged, however, by the success which had attended his efforts with the other two orders, Fichte determined to pursue the same course during the winter session of 1794, and to deliver another series of public lectures, calculated to rouse and sustain a spirit of honour and morality among the students. Thoroughly to accomplish his purpose, it was necessary that these lectures should take place at an hour not devoted to any other course, so that he might assemble an au dience from among all the different classes of the University. But he found that every hour from 8 A. M. till 7 P. M. was already occupied by lectures on impor tant branches of knowledge. No way seemed open to him but to deliver his moral discourses on Sundays. Before adopting this plan, however, he made diligent inquiries whether any law, either of the State or of the University, forbade such a proceeding. Discover ing no such prohibition, he examined into the practice of other Universities, and found many precedents to justify Sunday-lectures, particularly a course of a 106 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
similar nature delivered by Gellert at Berlin. He finally asked the opinion of some of the oldest pro fessors, none of whom could see any objection to liis proposal, provided he did not encroach upon the time devoted to divine service; — Schtitz remarking, "If plays are allowed on Sunday, why not moral lectures?" The hour of divine service in the University was 11 A. M. Fichte therefore fixed upon nine in the morning as his h6ur of lecture, and commenced his course with most favourable prospects. A large concourse of students from all the different classes thronged his hall, and several professors, who took their places among the audience, willingly acknowledged the benefit which they derived from his discourses. But he soon dis covered that the best intentions, and the most prudent conduct, are no protection against calumny. A political print, which had attained an unenviable notoriety for anonymous slander, and had distinguished itself by crawling sycophancy towards power, now exhibited its far-seeing sagacity by tracing the intimate connexion between the Sunday-lectures and the French Revolution, and proclaimed the former to be a " formal attempt to overturn the public religious services of Christianity, and to erect the worship of Reason in their stead"!
Strange to tell, the Consistory of Jena saw it to be their duty to forward a complaint on this subject to the High-Consistory at Weimar; and finally an assem bly in which a Herder sat, lodged an accusation before the Duke and Privy-council against Professor Fichte for " a deliberate attempt against the public religious services of the country." Fichte was directed to sus pend his lectures in the meantime, until inquiry could be made. He immediately met the accusation with a