LIBRARY ONIVERSITY OF CA! tod, RIVERSIDE LEVANA. LEVANA; UB, THE DOCTRINE OF EDUCATION. ( JEAN j PAUL FEIEDEICH EICHTER. Crans'Iatea from tfjc (Scrman. PRECEDED BY A SHORT BIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR, AND HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY, A FRAGMENT. LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 1891. LSI LONDON : REPRINTED FROM STEREO-PLATES BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. PREFACE TO THE OEIGINAL TKANSLATION OF LEV ANA. At a time when the public mind is so fully awakened to the importance of education, it appeared to the Translator that the thoughts of one of the greatest Germans on the subject were worthy of deep consideration ; and he offers them with the more satisfaction because he believes it impossible either for the advocates or for the opponents of the government scheme of education to draw offensive weapons from this arsenal. For Levana treats neither of national nor congregational education ; it elevates neither state nor priest into educator ; but it devolves that duty, where the interest ever ought to be, on the parents, and particularly on the mother. It is far from the Translator's object to disparage the great efforts now making to improve the state of popular education ; but he believes that, in propounding general systems, it is too much forgotten that real education is the work of individuals on individuals. It may be necessary — it is necessary — to provide instruction, and, as far as possible, education, for the classes who are too ignorant to seek it for themselves. But let us not, in the mania for systems, forget how little these alone can effect. And, farther we would ask, is the education of the upper classes so perfect that they may leave all care for it to watch over only that of the lower ? If there be much of crime — the acknowledged consequence of ignorance — among the masses, is there less of wee— the equally sure accompaniment of bad education — among the higher grades of society ? In the belief that Levana may tend much to ameliorate that department of education which is most neglected and needs most care — home training — the Translator makes no apology for clothing it in an English dress. He is, indeed, surprised that it has not previously been presented to the English reader. But VI TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. like all Eicliter's writings, Levana is peculiarly characterised liy that union of qualities called in England — " German." This feature, especially when displayed in a work on so serious a subject as education, and being most strongly marked in the introductory chapters, on which the reception of a book so much depends, may have led to its being considered unsuitable to English taste. The early part indeed, may cause many to close the book who would find much both to interest and instruct in a patient perusal of the whole work, combining as it does, in a remarkable degree, sound practical sense with fanciful and varied illustration. The acknowledged difficulty of Eichter's style has also, doubtless, had a deterring effect. Those who are acquainted with his writings will be able to appreciate the difficulties which have beset the Translator, and will be the least inclined to judge harshly the shortcomings of the translation, as compared with its -great original. For who — save Carlyle — can hope to do justice to the humorous, pathetic, poetic Kichter ; to him whom his countrymen call " Jean Paul, der Einzige " ? The Translator thinks it right to add that he has occasionally omitted, or compressed, a few sentences, where the general usefulness of the work was obviously increased by so doing. This discretion has, however, been very sparingly used, and in no case so as to interfere with the scope of the original. A. H. Liverpool, 1848. PREFACE TO THIS EDITION. In this edition, the passages alluded to above have been inserted in full, and the whole work has undergone a careful revision under the eye of the original translator. The Autobiography is here for the first time published in this country ; as it deals only with the earlier portion of the author's life it has been supplemented by a short memoir condensed from the enthusiastic biography by E. Forster Both these are by another translator. CONTENTS. PREFACE to the Original Translation of Lbvana PREFACE to this Edition , BIOGRAPHY AUTOBIOGKAPHY. LECTURE I. Wonsiedel— Birth— Grandfather . LECTURE II. Embracing the period from 1st of August 1765, to the 9th of January, 1776— Joditz— Village Idyls LECTURE III. (with three Supplements). Schwarzenbach on-the-Saale — Kiss — Rector — Lord's Supper H 52 LEVANA; OR, THE D CTEINE OF EDUCATION. FIRST FRAGMENT. Chap. I. Importance of Education ..... 88 II. Inaugural Discourse at the Johanneum-Paullinum ; ______ or Proof that Education effects little . . .86 III. Importance of Education ..... 99 Vlll CONTENTS. SECOND FRAGMENT. paob Chap. I. Spirit and Principle of Education .... 106 II. To discover and to appreciate the Individuality of the Ideal Man Ill III. On the Spirit of the Age 117 IV. Religious Education ...... 125 THIRD FRAGMENT. I. The Beginning of Education II. The Joyousness of Children III. Games of Children IV. Children's Dances V. Music . VI. Commands, Prohibitions VII. Punishments VIII. Screaming and Crying of Children IX. On the Trustfulness of Children Punishments, and Crying 137 146 151 162 164 166 173 179 183 Appendix to the Third Fragment. On Physical Education . 188 Comic Appendix and Epilogue to the First Volume. A dreamed Letter to the late Professor Gellert, in which the Author begs for a Tutor ..... 205 FOURTH FRAGMENT. On Female Education. Chap. 1 216 II. On the Destination of the Female Sex . . . 222 III. Nature of Girls ... ... 227 IV. Education of Girls 238 V. Private Instructions of a Prince to the Governess of his Daughter 269 FIFTH FRAGMENT. Chap. I. On the Education of a Prince ..... 281 SIXTH FRAGMENT. On the Moral Education of Boys. Chap. 1 311 II. Truthfulness 329 III. Education of the Affections 338 IV. Supplementary Appendix to Moral Education . . 350 CONTENTS. IX SEVENTH FRAGMENT. pagb Chap. I. On the Development of the Desire for Intellectual Progress ........ 366 II. Speech and Writing 369 III. Attention, and the Power of Adaptive Combination . 375 IV. Development of Wit 382 V. Development of Reflection, Abstraction, and Self- Knowledge ; together with an extra Paragraph on the Powers of Action and Business . . . 387 VI. On the Education of the Recollection — not of the Memory 389 EIGHTH FRAGMENT. Chap. I. Development of the Sense of Beauty . . . 395 II. Classical Education ...... 400 NINTH FRAGMENT, or Key-stone 405 BIOGRAPHY. § 1. Birth. — Parentage. — Early Years. In the spring of the year 1763 Jean Paul Friedrich Richter was born at Wonsiedel, a town of Baireuth, in Bavaria, on the range of hills known as the Fichtelgebirge. His father, Johann Christian Christoph Richter, was the son of a schoolmaster of Neustadt, of whom little is known but that he was " poor and pious in a high degree." Both these characteristics Paul's father appears to have inherited, though perhaps in a somewhat modified measure. He was a man of stern and uncompromising but cheerful and kind disposition, with a vigorous nature which could hold its own against the ills of life. Paul's mother, Sophia Rosina, was the daughter of Johann Paul Kuhn, a cloth-weaver of the neighbouring village of Hof. About two years after Paul's birth his father received a clerical appointment at Joditz, a village not far distant, which gave him a small increase of income. Here he remained for ten years, during which time Paul appears to have enjoyed a happy childhood, or one at any rate to which he looked back with feelings of much pleasure. That he made small progress in book-learning was doubt- lessly owing more to the shortcomings of the teachers than of the taught, since he showed much fondness for books and eagerly read such literature as fell into his hands This consisted mainly of a few theological books of his father's — of which he understood not a word — and some old newspapers. For a short time he went to .school, but Xll BIOGEAPHY. his father soon withdrew him on account of some ill-treat- ment which he had received at the hands of another boy, and he and his brother Adam were in future taught at home. The instruction they received seems to have consisted entirely of learning by heart — either pages of Latin words or grammar, or Scripture texts. With so little intellectual nourishment, it is not surprising that he showed no signs of remarkable mental growth while at Joditz. It was in Paul's thirteenth year that his father received what promised to be a better living in Schwarzenbach-on- the-Saale. For the boj r this was a decided gain. Here he had many advantages which had before been wanting, not the least of which was access to a more plentiful supply of books in the library of a friend, a young man named Vogel. The master too of the school seems to have taken pride in his promising pupil, and under his tuition Paul acquired some little knowledge of Latin and Greek, and even made a beginning with Hebrew. Now too he first had some lessons in music, for which he had decided talent, inherited from his father who, Paul tells us, was a composer of church music and had erred in not devoting himself entirely to the Tone Muse. A young curate also took an interest in Paul and obtained his father's permission to have him for two hours in the afternoon to give him instruction in geography, philo- sophy, and theology. For the former of these he appears however to have had little liking, and consequently to have made no progress therein, but in the study of philosophy and theology he was as it were in his natural element. The exercises which he did for the curate were his first attempts at composition.* * The reader is here recommended to turn to the Autobiography, where he will find a full account of the first fourteen years of Richter's life, BIOGRAPHY. xiii ? 2. High School, — Friends. — First Literary Efforts. 1779—1781. In the Easter of the year 1779, Richter, being then sixteen years of age, was sent to the high school at Hof. In Schwarzenbach he had unconsciously acquired know- ledge and developed a power of thought which raised him far above his school-fellows, above the school — certainly not a very remarkable one — and beyond his own years. Werner the kind old Rector* of the school and Viilkel the curate, a younger man of much ability, doubtlessly con- tributed considerably to this precocious development, but perhaps he owed most to Vogel, the pastor of the neighbouring village of Rehau, a man of wit and bene- volence, who took an interest in the clever boy, and gave him the range — though with certain limitations — of a well-stored library. The high school at Hof offered scanty means for intellectual development. Neither the Rector * nor the Conrector evinced any particular talent for teaching, and Richter was thus thrown almost entirely on himself and his former studies, in following up his predilec- tion for philosophy ; the gtudy of history to which he had before been indifferent now became thoroughly distasteful through the dryness and tediousness of the lectures. In addition to this intellectual want he had also othei trials, as the following anecdote will show, which though flight and insignificant in themselves were bitter and painful for a sensitive disposition such as his. After the entrance examination Richter was pro- nounced fit for the upper Prima * but at the request of his father, who feared the envy of his school-fellows, he was enrolled among the middle Primaners. Even this * For the explanation of this and following titles see Autobiography P *. XIV BIOGRAPHY. degree of preference was unheard of and awakened the feelings, which his father had feared, in some of the othe7 boys, who resolved in school-boy fashion to have their revenge. This they did by telling him that it was the custom and duty of all new members of the Prima to kiss the hand of the master at the first French lesson, and Eichter, in fulfilment of this supposed duty, innocently and respectfully sought the reluctant hand, but his master, who, being no favourite, supposed it to b« some fresh insult, all the more stinging as coming from a new boy, rushed at the innocent lad in a burst of passion and then left the room with a volley of oaths, whilst the new Primaner stood there outwitted and derided by the companions in whom he had hoped to find friends. One only of them, Christian Otto, took no part in the general uproar, and sowed in that hour the seed of a friendship which lasted throughout their lives. An occurrence of a different sort however soon raised Eichter again to his right place among his school-fellows. It was the custom at the school for the boys to hold debates under the presidency of the Eector, who decided on the respective merits of the two parties. When Eichter's turn came to lead the opposition, the Eector had chosen a theological subject. Fartly from natural bent and partly from intercourse with his decidedly rationalistic old friends in Schwarzenbach and Eehau, Eichter already inclined to heterodoxy, and had acquired through his private reading, an amount of knowledge of which no one, least of all the Eector, had any idea and which in the debate — to him no school exercise, but a matter of feeling — he used as weapons against his opponent and against the Eector with his sacred and infallible doctrines. His opponent with ordinary schoolboy knowledge was soon reduced to silence, while the Eector himself from BIOGRAPHY. XV lack of means, strove equally vainly against the young lationalist, who, encouraged by his success, proceeded more and more boldly until at last the Eector in despair took refuge in the authority of his office, and commanding silence, left the chair and the room without the usual concluding ceremony. Eichter was thus acknow- ledged victorious by the whole class and respected accordingly. The first friendship which Eichter made was with the above-mentioned Christian Otto, who was the son of a well-to-do commercial man and a youth whose thought- fulness and appreciation of right and duty were supple- mented by cordial manners and an affectionate disposition. He afterwards became Eichter's chief confidant in his literary plans and undertakings, and his censor and adviser, as may be seen from their correspondence.* The honour of being chosen to speak at the yearly Actus or Speech-day was conferred on Eichter in both the years that he was at school. The speeches recited on these days were the original compositions of the boys who were also allowed to select their own subjects. Those chosen by Eichter, viz., " The Value of the early Study of Philosophy," and " The Importance of the Dis- covery of New Truths "f are characteristic. The peculiar tendency of his mind, — an enthusiasm for knowledge, a keenness of thought and tenderness of feeling are very apparent in both, but in the latter is especially seen a maturity of mind in his zeal for universal culture and progress which even in his sixteenth year he lainly distinguished from the superficial and transitory desire for radical destruction. * Jean Paul's Briefwechsel mit seinem Freunde Otto. Berlin, 1829. Otto outlived his friend some years, and is the editor of one of his biographies. (Wahrheit aus Jean Paul's Leben.) t The former is printed in Jean Paul's Sammtliche Werke, 1st ed. yo). lxiii. ; the hist named appears to be the earlier in date. XVI BIOGRAPHY. In addition to his school classes and school work, Eichter employed himself in a manner which, although he was still quite unconscious of it himself, decidedly foreshadowed his future vocation and which laid the foundation both of a comprehensive knowledge and of an unexampled wealth of thought. He made a library — a double one we may say — with his own hand. First he took copious extracts from all the books that he read, the contents of which he thought of any importance, and entered them carefully in note books, providing each with two indexes, one of the writings from which he took the extracts, and one of the subjects of the extracts. At Schwarzenbach-on-the-Saale, when still a lad, he had already begun this work, and in the year 1778, he had filled two quarto books of above two hundred closely written pages. At the commencement of the year 1779 he completed another in Schwarzenbach and two more in Hof ; in 1780 five more, and so on, with un tiling zeal. Throughout his life he continued this method of retaining in his memory all that he read, but in later years he did it more briefly. He himself says, in one of the books of a later period, "To have my life's history, I need only open my extract books ; with each one is connected a portion of my life." The extracts treat chiefly of such subjects as the Eternity of Hell Punish- ment — the Works of the Devil — the Connection Natural and Christian Eeligions — Love towards Enemies — the Atonement — Faith — Original Sin — and so on ; also epigrams and poems, comic and sentimental. In the second volume are : Connexion of the Body and Soul — the Diversity of the Senses — What is Beauty? — Blind religious Zeal — Eating and Drinking — What would Man be, if he were not immortal ? — Spinoza's Divinity. It would require too great a space to give these in de- tail : each book contained on an average several hundred BIOGRAPHY. XV 11 subjects; it is enough that we comprehend what a mass of knowledge he acquired in his earliest youth, how he selected it in accordance with the bent of his mind, and arranged it for study and future use. Not less important to him, and to us more significant, was the second part of his MS. library — the records of his own thoughts and researches. With the same order and neatness he com- menced the^e books for " Exercises in Thinking," in which he wrote down his philosophical speculations and religious reflections. These he kept with the same care as his extracts, although he expressly denied that they had any value for other people. The first volume begins in November 1780. Besides a number of disconnected notes it contains seven treatises with such titles as, " The Nature of our Conception of God," "A Thing without Force is an Impossibility," " Is the World a perpetuum mobile ? " A second volume, with similar contents, was added in December of the same year, and many others followed. The following extracts will serve as specimens : Fools and Wise Men, Blockheads and Geniuses. " These appellations do not indicate the same things, though they are often confounded. Their difference is easily detected. " The Blockhead is a being to be pitied ; one whose intellect never grasps more than a small number of ideas ; and who, enshrouded in deep darkness, is never illumined by the beams of truth ; the Blockhead is the polypus between manrand the animals. The Fool is not so at all. Most are fools became they know too much or more than is good for them. They know much, but become fools just because they apply it all badly. The Blockhead is born, the Fool made. The Blockhead creeps along like the snail for slowness, for he is far behind on the road of truth and incapable of advancing. He is on the right i. b XY111 BIOGRAPHY. road perhaps, but is it to be wondered at, that be who has gone only a few steps from the gate has not yet lost his way? The Fool is on in front, but he has left the right road and wanders without guidance. The Block- head is not recognised at once, for in common with the Wise Man, he says little and does not betray himself. Often, too, he adopts the mask of the Wise Man, as the donkey assumes the lion's skin — the dress is not becoming to either, but only the sharpsighted can unmask them. The Fool, on the contrary, is apparent at once ; for he bears a mark of his own, which distinguishes him from others, as the uniform does the soldier. In fact he is not as others are. The Fool says all that he thinks — and this betrays him at once. We should find more Blockheads in the world if more people were open enough to give utterance to their thoughts. The Blockhead is a Block- head for this reason, that he is not one of the animals; among them he would pass for a Genius. The Fool is a Fool for this reason, that he does not live in a particular ■"rorld which is not the real one, namely, in that one which exists in his own head, where he would be con- sidered clever. The Blockhead cannot be cured, because he is born one — he is a feeble creature, whose powers cannot be increased. The Fool can be rendered better just becau-e he is able to become worse. He is a strong man, whose powers are badly employed ; nothing is necessary but to turn them in another direction. Mad- ness is the highest degree of foolishness— and this is cured now-a-days. In sleep we are all Fools, and this because we have lost our guides, the senses. The Blockhead is not one when in sleep — he is then an embijo— he does not think at all. The fault in the Blockhead is that he has no imagination ; the Fool, on the c ntrary, is one because he has too much imagination. Thus is the poet in danger of becoming a Fool. Hence ci. mes the much praised fu. v , BIOGRAPHY. XIX fx>eticus. The Blockhead lias his counterpart among the animals ; not so the Fool. This indicates that the latter is more nearly allied to man than the former. All men are suhject at times to foolishness and the greatest oftenest of any; but only a small number are stupid. One is stupid continually, but one is a fool for a short lime only. The heart of the Blockhead is little capable of noble emotions; that of the Fool is open to all, pro- vided only that they do not touch the whims which render him a fool. Fools are confined or put in fetters ; but Blockheads are allowed full liberty. They often till the lecturer's chair, or the pulpit — they sit on thrones. Often nothing more is necessary in order to obtain au office than to be a Blockhead ; for he who has to bestow it has sympathy for those who resemble himself — he appre- ciates in others that which he values in himself. Fools and Blockheads are alike only in this, that neither of them thinks he is what he is." From the " Inquiry into the various Beligions of the World," we will give only the conclusion. " And what then is the result of all ? This ! that all religions are good — and for the places where they are — the best. They are different means to the same end. Any religion to which I cleave with conviction is the best for me. For another it is not so, because he is not convinced by it. Christianity is so little spread through the world because excellence is more rare than mediocrity. Bidicule then no religion which thou pronouncest false— thou wilt ridicule Him who suffered that religion to arise. Let lis be tolerant towards those whom we may surpass in intellect, but whose hearts are perhaps better, kinder, and more loving than ours. Let us not as formerly, murder our brethren in order to please a Preserver of Life — not by stakes and inquisitions propagate a religion which is b 2 XX BIOGRAPHY. ruled by Love. How glorious are these prospects ! All are our brethren — all our relations in faith — all are called to one Heaven — all loved by one Father !" The following " Observations " from the first two books may be added to the foregoing " Inquiries." "Many a one thinks himself pious when he calls the world a ' vale of misery.' But I think he would be more so if he called it a ' valley of joy.' God will be better pleased with him who finds everything good in the world, than with him who is content with nothing. With so many thousand joys in the world — is it not black ingratitude to call it a place of sorrow and affliction ? I could the sooner forgive such an expression in a child of misfortune who in the gloomy hours of melancholy relieves his oppressed heart in lamentations, but in a fat-bellied abbot who spends his days luxuriously on the soft sofa, who knows no other burden than that of having a restless soul which interrupts the sweetness of his rest by feelings of ennui — to hear such an expression from him is insufferable, it is mocking the Creator, and re- paying His kindness with ingratitude. " Our Creator has employed every means to awaken and to nourish in us a love towards one another — the love which makes life so sweet to us, which enables us to bear each suffering with double strength. A flame burns unceasingly in our bosom, kindling joy in us when we see others jo}*ous and filling our hearts with sadness when others weep — we call it love of mankind. I see one means thereto in that attraction in faces which we call ' beauty.' This external charm which so attracts our souls, this power which melts our hearts in melancholy and draws soft tears from our eyes, this divinity in the human face knits more firmly and closely the bond which an ever active impulse ties. 0, rather would I fall down before the Maker of all that is beautiful and perfect and BIOGRAI>HY. XXI weep before Him, when I see a touching beauty, than cherish a voluptuous thought." What must strike us particularly in these earliest utterances of Jean Faul, is that no trace of that quality which was afterwards so prominent in his writings, namely satiric humour, is yet to be found in them. Eeligious reflections, philosophical researches, observations of nature and human life, form the chief substance of his thoughts and productions, the keynote of which is love and joy. That tenderness of feeling peculiar in so high a degree to our author sought expression in a story written at this time which, with an allusion easily seen, he named " Abelard and Heloise." This novel, in the form of a series of letters, was found among his papers after his death, neatly written with his own hand and dated January 1781. The tone of the book is sufficiently shown by the motto prefixed to it : " The sensitive man is too good for this earth, on which are vain scoffers ; ■ — only in yonder world where are sympathising angels does he find the reward for his tears." The following note written on the reverse side of the title-page will tell us in what estimation he himself held the book a few months after it was written, and show also that he had already commenced the healthful practice of self-criticism. " Faults : This story is wholly without plan. The plot is a complete failure ; it is commonplace and uninteresting. The characters are not so much badly described as wholly undescribed. Of Abelard and Heloise one sees nothing but the hearts, none of their thoughts ; none of their charac- teristics are painted ; their love itself is not even correctly represented ; besides this, the whole is exaggerated ; in many passages one feels nothing just because it is meant to be exceedingly touching. It is also contrary to pro- bability, it is v'ery shallow, etc., etc. The language is not Goethesian, but a bad imitation of it. XXI 1 BIOGRAPHY. " Beauties : The language of the feelings is not every- where misrepresented, the descriptions of natural scenes are not a complete failure. The German is not quite pitiable, it is not at any rate like that, which the Force- Geniuses (Kraft-Genies) of the present time write. There are also a few isolated good remarks to be found, and I should have made more, if I had striven less after senti- ment. Finally this booklet has for me the beauty, that it represents a certain condition of my heart at a par- ticular time, which I now consider as folly, because I have not the happiness to be the same fool still." In spite of these indications of diligence on Bichter's part, his external life at this time was far from favourable to the pursuit of his studies. Shortly after their arrival in Hof in 1779, he had lost his father, who left their mother with her five children entirely destitute. Their grandparents with whom Paul was living, and on whose support his mother was entirely dependent, died soon afterwards within a short time of one another. About the heritage, itself insignificant, there arose a lawsuit among the relations, who thought themselves badly treated, and almost the whole of it was swallowed up. Eichter then began first to feel the pressure of poveity and want, and it was only by his unceasing mental activity and the cheerfulness with which he resigned himself to circumstances that he preserved himself free from their fatal effects. §. III. University Life. — " Greenland Lawsuits." 1781—1784. In the spring of the year 1781, Eichter left the high school and went to Baireuth for his matriculation examination. A humorous description of his ride thither is given in the " Flegeljahre " (Wildoats). After passing his examination successfully, he started on the 11th May BIOGKArHY. XX111 1781, on his journey to the University of Leipzig. Here turning to his father's profession, more because he was the eldest son of a clergyman, than from his own choice, Kichter at first attended the theological lectures at Leipzig, but also at the same time in pursuance of his natural taste he attended those on philosophy and mathematics. The following extracts from his letters at this time may help to show us his impression of Leipzig and university life. " 1 have arrived here safely. It is a fine town, if a town with large houses and long streets is called fine. For my part I think it monotonous. And the beautiful neighbourhood too, which you promised me, I do not find anywhere round about Leipzig. Everywhere a per- petual sameness, — no valleys and hills — wanting in all the charms which have always rendered the neighbour- hood where you still live so pleading to me. In many respects things here are as you told me, in others they are different. I get a dinner for 18 pfennigs.* And besides this, I have got the Inscription] with Rector Clodius gratis, and the lectures too. I have only to pay 16 thalersj for a nice room in the Three Roses Inn in Reterstrasse No. 2, on the second floor, but this is under the condition that I turn out during Fair times. The students too are as polite and polished as you told me. But in the following matter your prophecy does not seem as if it would be realised. Private tutorships (Infor- mazionen) are scarce here and the crowd of applicants is innumerable. In large houses those students only are taken who have recommendations. An Information is thus not such a common thing, and a good one is rare. I have this myself from the lips of several professors. All have told me that not very consolatory proverb of Leipzig : Lipsia vult expectari. And the expectari is so * About twopence. f College fees. J About 21. 8a. XXIV BIOGRAPHY. indefinite that when one has been fifty years and has not got a place after all, they still continue to say, ' He has only to wait, something will be sure to turn up ! ' " Herr Kirsch* of Hof travelled with us to Leipzig. His presence has been of great assistance to me. He has recommended me most favourably to several people, and he has also written me a very good Testimonium pauper talis. I need only to show this in order to get all my lectures free." Later he writes : " My supposition about the expect ari has not been dis- proved so far, it has rather been confirmed. I still have no pupils here, no table to dine at ;j" no acquaintance among the students, no anything at all. It is by no means easy to get access to the professors. Those who are really celebrated and whose favour would satisfy me, are sur- rounded by the amount of work and besieged by a crowd of other distinguished persons and a swarm of base flatterers, so that any one who is not recommended by his coat or his rank can only with difficulty become acquainted with them. If anyone should want to speak with a professor without having a special request to make, he would lay himself open to the suspicion of vanity. When I consider the crowd of students who deceive the professors and embitter them against the better ones, then I am able to explain to myself the whole phenomenon. But I do not on this account give up hope. I shall overcome all these difficulties — I can already do so partly, but after all, I do not need it. I come now to the mystery, the explanation of which you have so eagerly awaited, and which I only vaguely stated to my mother. * The Eector of las school. * Einen Tisch haben , lit. to have a table, i.e. to have a free dinner. It is customary for families to invite poor students with whom they are acquainted, to dine with them on a fixed day in each week during their residence at the University. BIOGRAPHY. XXV But it is just as little solved now as then, only tins I can tell you, that it has nothing to do with a Stipendium, or a Tiscli, an Informazion or anything else of the kind. It concerns something of which you have no suspicion, of which I cannot tell you until the result answers my expectation. So much for that. " Fashion is here the tyrant before whom everybody bows, though it is never consistent with itself. Dandies swarm in the streets : in fine weather they flit about like butterflies. One is as bad as the other : tliey are like dolls in the Marionette show, and not one has the courage to be himself. The puppy flits from lady to lady, from party to party, carries off a few follies everywhere with him, laughs and cries as the others desire, and feeds ono party with the indigestible scraps which he has picked up at another ; and employs his body in eating, and his soul in doing nothing until he falls asleep. He who is not compelled by poverty to be wise, at Leipzig becomes the fool whom I have here described. Most of the rich students are like this. " The information which you ask for, about the religious opinions in Leipzig, may be given in a few words. Almost all students lean to the side of heterodoxy. If there are not so many among them who are actually unorthodox there are all the more who are indifferent to religion, who are naturalists or even atheists. The reason of this is probably that it is less trouble and requires less know- ledge to be the latter than the former. The greater number are no longer orthodox, but only a few are Socinians in the real meaning of the word. I myself have heard a lecturer who was in orders, inveighing incessantly against the systematic mystical interpretation of the Bible, the allegory -mania, the adherence to all untrue evidence, the want of Hebrew knowledge in the interpretation of the New Testament, etc., etc. But in XXVI BIOGRAPIIY. spite of this he does not dare freely to deny any dogma, he can only speak of the difficulties in the way of be- lieving it and leave the decision of its value to his hearers. The chief cause which hinders freedom of thought in Saxony, is that the great men are still unenlightened. An outspoken book is at once confiscated. I am attending expository lectures on St. John by Weber; and on the Acts by Morus ; on Logic and Metaphysics by Platner ; on ^Esthetics by the same ; on Moral Philosophy by "Wieland ; on Geometry and Trigonometry by Gehler ; on Pluto's Legatio ad imperatorem Caium by Morus ; and on English by M. Eogler. I have made it a rule in my studies only to follow those which I find most agreeable and for which I am the least unfitted, and which I already find useful or think will be so. I have often been led into error through following this rule but have never repented of my mistakes. Studying that for which one has no love is a struggle against weariness, tedium and disgust to attain a good which one does not desire, and this implies wasting one's powers, which feel themselves to be created for another end, on a subject with which one makes no progress and withdrawing them from that in which one would have been successful. ' But it is just by this that you earn your bread' is the pitiable olijecti n raised in reply. I know nothing in the world by which one could not earn one's bread. I will pass over the fact that he who makes the mere gaining of necessities the sole aim of his studies — by one more by another less — never makes much progress. This being admitted, I do not know if I would earn my bread by that, for which I feel I have no capacity, in whk-h I experience no pleasure and in which, consequently, I cannot possibly make progress, or by that, in which my pleasure spurs me on and my powers help me forward. One must live entirely for cne branch of knowledge, sacrificing every BIOGRAPHY. XXVI 1 power, every pleasure, every moment to it and occupying oneself with the others only in so far as they act as a foil to this one. And if by the strange complication of external circumstances I lose the paltry gain which is the object with all small intellects, this is certainly made good to me tenfold, when I enjoy that deep delight in following my object, widch springs from the pursuit of truth ; when I feel the charm which the expression of each of my powers has for me and when perhaps I enjoy the honour also, which sooner or later may fall to their lot. This is my defence. Hitherto I have read only philosophical works, now I prefer only witty and eloquent writings, rich in metaphor. I used not to study French, now I read French books in preference to German. The wit of a Voltaire, the eloquence of a Rousseau, the splendid style of a Helvetius, the acute remarks of a Toussaint — all these urge me to the study of the French language. I do not consider that I am learning anything, but only that I am amusing myself; yet with the impression of the beautiful passages or the witty thoughts, there remains behind also the manner in which they were expressed. I am reading Pope and am delighted with him, as also with Young. He must undoubtedly be still grander in the original. I am now learning English, primarily in order to read the excellent weekly paper, the " Spectator " of which our translation is miserable. The eloquence of Rousseau delights me, I find it again in Cicero and Seneca ; these two I like above all others, and I would not give up their writings for the best of German books. Pope's satires carry me away ; I found him, like Horace, more beautiful in the original. His criticism of reason is a masterpiece, as is Horace's " De Arte poetica." I now like the Latin authors and have dropped that foolish prejudice with which on very slight grounds I was infected by the bail instruction of Latin schoolmasters." XXV111 BIOGRAPHY. Partly through external circumstances and partly through the growth of his powers, Richter was soon guided to the choice of his calling. In addition to his regular university studies he continued the self-imposed task which he had begun at Hof. Eleven large quarto volumes of Extracts from the most recent works, went with him to Leipzig. The way he continued these private studies, strengthening thereby the foundation and framework of his whole literary power, not only indicates a though tfulness almost unexampled in one so young, but also evinces a physical energy which it is almost in- comprehensible that his body could endure, even if his mind could sustain it. Besides diligently attending his lectures, to which he added private lessons in English, and continuing his daily exercises in writing, which filled numerous volumes, and carrying on an animated correspondence for which he had special bouks, writing a duplicate copy of every letter, he still found time enough not only for the most extensive reading, but also for the continuance of his ample extract books. He even com- menced various new ones, " Extraits de livres f ran pais," then a succession of excerpts, " From recent works relating to Natural Philosophy and History," and others for " Theology," also a book for " Witty Ideas, Remarks, etc., from Ancient and Modern Authors ;" and all these he wrote with his own hand with the greatest exactness and neatness. At the same time too, he began a dictionary of Varieties and Liberties of expression in which, under the several words and expressions, he collected and compared as many others as possible with similar meanings. From the first-mentioned extracts, we see that he read the writings of Lessing with special zest, and among English authors those of Pope, among the French, those of Pousseau, Helvetius, Voltaire. Of the poets, he admired Shakspeare most, then Wieland, Hippel, Young, BIOGRAPHY. XXIX tnd Swift. He was not however contented with reading and copying, but soon proceeded to original compositions. Among these was (in 1781) "The Praise of Stupidity." In this piece (imprinted) Stupidity is introduced speaking; extols itself as being the foster-nurse of body and soul, the benefactress of women, dandies, potentates, courtiers, and noblemen, of theologians, philosophers, poets, etc., and concludes with an exhortation for the enlargement of her empire. The train of thought is firmer, and the ex- pression more decided than hitherto, and the satire of the " Greenland Lawsuits " can already be traced. At the same period or shortly afterwards, he wrote a considerable number of treatises, some shorter, S'»me longer, mostly of a satirical nature, though some of them are also philosophical. Several are to be found in his literary remains.* Among others are " Atheism and Fanaticisms Compared;" "Stray Thoughts on Great Men;" "Full Information about the Bad, Foolish, Un- true, and Superfluous Passages which I have struck out in my still unprinted satiric Organon out of respect to good taste and the public." " The Different Points of View from which the Devil, Death and the Painter view Life." With reference to the " Praise of Stupidity," he thus writes to Vogel : "You probably know that I am poor; but this you probably do not know, that my poverty is not alleviated by anyone. One must first by means of money give one's , atron to understand that one is in want of it, that is, one must not be poor if one wishes to become rich. This does not suit my case, and no dispenser of benefits considers me needy enough for him to «^ve me the charities of others because I cannot give hiui uf my own. And God has also denied me four feet whereon to crawl * Jean Paul's S«mmtliche WerJce, 1st ed. vola. lxii.-lxv. XXX BIOGEAPHT. and gain the gracious look of a patron and a few crumbs from his abundance. I can be neither a false flatterer nor a fool of fashion, nor can I win my friends by the flexibility of my tongue or of my spine. Add to this that most of the professors have neither time nor oppor- tunity, neither will nor means to help one ; that access to them is rendered impossible through the crowd of flatterers and impostors to all those who are neither the one nor the other ; that it would betray pride if one were to catch at opportunities of showing them one's best side. Put all this together, and you will know my position. But you do not yet know how I am going to better it. It occurred to me one day, ' I will write books in order to be able to buy books. I will teach the public (permit this expression for the sake of the antithesis) that I may myself be able to learn. I will make the end the means, and harness the horses behind the cart to get, out of this horrid pass. I then made an alteration in the nature of my studies ; I read good authors — Seneca, Ovid, Pope, Swift, Young, Voltaire, Eousseau, Boileau, and I know not whom else. Erasmus' Encomium Moriae suggested to me the idea of praising stupidity. I began, I improved, I found difficulties where I did not expect, and found none where I awaited them, and I finished on the day on which I received your valuable letter. You will think ' Strange ' if you do not think ' Foolish.' " " The Praise of Stupidity," as already mentioned, did not reach its goal, the press. But Eichter did not suffer him- self to be discouraged by this, and soon produced the " Greenland Lawsuits," which was published anonymously at Berlin in 1783. It contained satires on Authors, Theologians, on the Pride of Birth, on Women and Dandies, etc., which with- out doubt he adorned with an abundance of wit and metaphor, but to which with his very limited knowledge BIOGRAPHY. XXXI of the world, drawn mostly from books, he could supply only an incomplete foundation of reality. The bitterness of tone in which the book is written is very sti iking. According to his oavii confession not one line of love is to be found in the whole of the two volumes. But what concerns us most in it is the free and liberal spirit displayed throughout. The author places himself with decision on the liberal side, and appears as the declared adversary of blind faith in theological matters. of the prerogative of birth, the surveillance of the press, and the many evils arising therefrom. That in personal matters too he was aide to have and maintain his own opinions, is shown by the pigtail episode, which in a few words is as follows : For reasons of Ids own Eichter chose to dispense with the discomfort and expense of collar and cravat, as also of the queue which according to the fashion of that time was indispensable. Society considered the matter of so much importance that it appears to have allowed him little peace at Leipzig or among his friends at Hof. So irate was a certain Magister at Leipzig, a fellow lodger in the house with Richter, at having to walk in the same garden with the queueless student that he prevailed on the land- lord to relieve him of the nuisance. Jn spite of re- monstrance-from friends and enemies Richter held firm to his fancy for seven years. " I hold," said he, " the constant regard that we pay in all actions to the judg- ments of others as the poison of onr peace, our reason and our virtue. Ar, this slave-chain I have long filed, but I scarcely hope ever to break it." The following circular addressed to his fritnds and the public was a fitting end of this characteristic episode : " The Undersigned begs to announce publicly that, whereas short hair has as many enemies as red, whereas 6aid enemies are at the same time enemies of the person XXX11 BIOGRAPHY. on whom the hair grows ; and further, whereas such a fashion is in no respect Christian, for were it so Christian people would adopt it, and whereas moreover the Tinder- signed has suffered as much injury from his hair as Absoloui from his, though from opposite reasons ; and whereas he has been privately informed that people have endeavoured to bring him to his grave, because there the hair would grow without scissors, he here makes known that he will not willingly wait so long. It is hereby announced therefore to a gracious and highborn public, that the Undersigned purposes on Sunday next to appear in several of the important streets of Hof, with a short pigtail of false hair, and with this pigtail, as with a magnet and cord of love and magic wand, to obtain by force the love of every one let his name be what it will. " J. P. F. R." But to return to Leipzig. Though the " Greenland Lawsuits " had found a publisher, it did not meet with a warm reception from the public; and his expectations raised so high had now gradually to lower their pitch until, little by little, they completely died away. We find him however busy with a new book, and that again a satirical one, the " Selections from the Devil's Papers," but his life now at Leipzig was fast becoming unendurable. Even the hope of becc: ing known by his book and of forming connexions with men of name and note had deceived him. Direct offers to booksellers, attempts at mediation through others had all miscarried entirely. For a long time he had not received anything from home and had even grieved his good mother, who always hoped that he would go into the Church, in being unable to do anything to help her; assistance from his friends could not be asked to an unlimited extent, and he was now reduced to the choice BIOGRAPHY. XXXI II between debts and hunger. One evening, accompanied by a friend, be went at dusk to tbe town-gate to await the stage-coach which took him back to Hof, and thus in November 1784 brought his university career to an end. " A gladdening and enchanting time was that of my youth and one to which I ever look back with yearning, though not the external life, the barrenest that a youth ever endured, but the internal which bore a complete spring-time with blossoms and flowers under the deep snow of the external." § IV. TUTORSHIP. "THE INVISIBLE LODGE." 1784 — 1792. Poverty had driven Eichter from Leipzig and poverty awaited him in Hof. There, in a little room with his mother and younger brothers, he continued his work amid a variety of annoyances and privations. But those things which would have reduced another to despair — the washing and scouring, the cooking, the ironing, and the continual buzzing of the spinning-wheel, by the aid of which his mother gained their scanty livelihood — to him these all became materials for poetry and study, with which he afterwards characterised the " Good Lenette ;" and the privations through which they passed, whether serious or comic, he hoarded up for " Siebenkas," his Advocate of the Poor. Like him, Eichter was employed while under the pressure of wants from all sides in elaborating his " Devil's Papers." With this work when complete he applied to several publishers, but in vain; and after numerous other equally fruitless efforts to obtain literary work of any kind, he was at length glad to accept the first offer which promised him freedom from absolute want. This came from the father of one of his friends named von Oertel, who asked him to come to Topen, and undertake the instruction of his youngest son. l e XXXIV BIOGEAPHT. With the new year of 1787, Eichter entered on his office with hopes of better times than he had hitherto enjoyed. But though he may well have breathed freely on quitting Hof, it was no paradise to which he came. Herr von Oertel was far from being a genial man, nor did Eichter ever succeed in gaining the confidence or affection of his pupil. He felt too the want of his Hof friends, since there was hardly anyone at Topen with whom he could associate ; and he missed the library of his old friend Vogel. Had it not been for the kindness of the Frau von Oertel, which he always remembered with gratitude, his new life would hardly have been more endurable than the old. In May of this year, Eichter at length succeeded in getting a publisher for the "Devil's Papers," but the honorarium which he received was a mere nothing, and the book seems to have been carelessly and badly printed and remained unnoticed. After the lapse of two years his engagement at Topen came to an end, in what seems to have been not quite a friendly manner, and he returned to his mother at Hof in the summer of 1789. Necessity, however, forced him again to accept the office of tutor. Seven childen of both sexes and diverse ages and abilities were intrusted to his care, and we now see the author of the " Invisible Lodge " as the teacher of the multiplication table and the rudiments of grammar. At the same time, however, we may see him sketching the outline of his "Levana," while bringing these young plants to a fruitful maturity. His energy and activity at this time are truly astonish- ing. Besides instructing these seven children in ele- mentary knowledge of all kinds, and superintending their work out of school hours which at times was no easy task — one of the boys once did a voluntary composition of 135 pages — he still found time and strength for his BIOGRArHY. XXXV own development. He continued reading the most im- portant and, as far as possible, the most recent works of all kinds, and, in accordance with his usual custom, made copious extracts from them in his note-hooks. Of these note hooks, to which there seems to be no end, he now began several fresh ones, on all kinds of subjects — philo- sophical, historical, sesthetical, geographical, satirical, humorous, etc. By this means he kept himself in constant practice in writing ; but these books do not appear to have had an}- further use, for he seldom or never referred to them afterwards in composing his works. In June 1790, he sent Otto a list of thirty-two subjects which he intended to work up. Most of them were finished in the course of this and the following year. We here give a few to show of what kind they were. "Description of the Public and Private Libraries" (comic appendix to " Titan"). " Devilocracy, instead of Theocracy " (imprinted). " Critique of the Opera of the holy Kingdomcome." " That Women are our Popes " ("Invisible Lodge"). "Grimaces" (unprinted). "Law- courts of Love." "Description of my Epitaph" (un- printed). " Female Fainting Fits " (" Invisible Lodge "). In the same year, 1790, he also wrote the "Bavarian Kreuzer Comedy," which strangely enough remained un- printed, and eventually found place in " The Paper Kite," Frankfort, 1845. But it must not be supposed that he wrote his works off-hand. For the smallest of them he kept special books, and carefully worked out the plans, characters, and descriptions beforehand, so that each separate work occupied at least as much time in prepara- tion as in execution. When we see that with all these many and various occupations Eichter found time to keep a written account in his diary of his daily life, and to enter with his own hand all his letters in a correspondence book ; it in 2 XXXVI BIOGRAPHY. difficult to imagine where his material life, with its necessities, can have found a place. His productions still met with no success, but in spite of all difficulties he worked on with obstinate perseverance and in February 1792, after eleven months' labour, he completed his first novel, the " Invisible Lodge." This he sent to one Moritz, at Berlin, in whose work, " Anton Eeisser," he had recognised a kindred spirit, with a letter, from which the following is an extract : — " I would that you had already read this sheet, that I might not blush under your astonishment on seeing this volume. The black oilskin contains, like life, a man's character, his joys and griefs; a half-broken plan; in short a novel — I had almost written a man. ' Why,' I ask myself, ' dost thou send a German novel — for this species of literary spawn, begotten by generatio (Bquivoca, is repulsive to a man of taste — to one whom thou lovest ; who has so often made thee sad by showing thee what life is, and what man, who casts his leaves therein, what the pointed moment of time is on which we stand ; and how a world lies between our short sleep and dream, and a little earth between those who are sleeping and dreaming somewhat longer.' One is sad when one finishes a book, for one thinks of all other things which one will finish — 1 am not now in good enough spirits to be clear. " As I send you the book, I should in vain endeavour to hide from you the opinion which 1 have of it, and which has not allowed me to put it in circulation, like a defaced Louis d'or, on the book exchange and to offer it to the unfeeling touch of intellectual slave-dealers, who are unknown to me. It is sweet to me to know that I send, it to a heart which— excepting its superiority — is like the one under which it has been born and nourished, if after reading it you should think it worthy to be read by the few who are like you, I beg you, either through BIOGRAPHY. XXXVll ycnr opinion, or by a few pages or the whole, to procure for it a commercial hand who will conduct it from the written into the printed world. " T P F K " After so many vain attempts, Eichter's hopes for the success of this despatch were not very high ; and the greater, therefore, was his surprise when Moritz at once wrote, heartily congratulating him on his work and desiring to make the acquaint! nee of the author without delay. A publisher was found in Matzdorff, the brother- in-law of Moritz, and Eichter before long had the grati- fication of laying a sum of 100 ducats in the lap of his poor and much astonished mother. End of the Tutorship. — Weimar. — Illness. — Death. 1792—1824. In the autumn of 1792 Jean Paul began his second important work, the " Hesperus." He still, however, retained his post as tutor until the spring of 1794, when the eldest of his pupils entered the high school at Baireuth, and he returned to his mother's little room at Hof. To make the life of this good woman happier, was now his first object. With the "Invisible Lodge" he had entered on his proper path. For though he could not entirely renounce either jesting or sarcasm, he never again wrote a book wholly of satires like the " Devil's Paper" or the " Green- land Lawsuits." A number of fresh projects now arose in his mind, to all of which he made a beginning. The "Hesperus,'' begun in September 1792, was finished in June 1794. "Siebenkas" was commenced in the mean- time, and the groundwork to "Titan" was also laid. " Quintus Fixlein," with its jocular and touching ap- pendices was now written and at the end of a year it passed into a second edition together with the " History XXXmi BIOGEAPTTl. of its Prefaces," and the " Annihilation." A.t the same time too appeared the "Biographical Diversions." His rising fame brought him many invitations to vii-it Weimar, the centre of German literature and when, in June 1796, he made a journey thither, he appears to have been welcomed with enthusiasm. He there became per- sonally acquainted with Herder, Knebel, Einsiedel and Frau von Kalb. Wieland who at that time was absent in Switzerland wrote to express his pleasure in the prospect of making Richter's acquaintance. By Schiller and Goethe, who had already expressed unfavourable opinions about his writings, he was not so cordially welcomed, but his presence seems so far to have had an effect, that Goethe declared himself, " favourably disposed towards him on account of his love of truth and desire of improvement," while Schiller not only invited him to become a contributor to the " Horen," but even wished him to settle down permanently at Jena. He also became acquainted with the Duchess Amalie, at whose castle at Tieffurth near Weimar he was a frequent visitor. His increasing fame and the appreciation which he met with wherever he went, began to make him dissatisfied with the limited life in the village of Hof, and on the death of his mother which occurred at this time, he removed to Leipzig. He did not however remain there long, and in 1798 removed to Weimar. Here, through the influence of Jacobi and Herder whose " Metakritik" he read over with him in manuscript, his interest in philosophy was again roused. The negative doctrines of Kant and the idealism of Fichte found no favour with him. His nature demanded a belief in God, and a faith in the im- -oiortality of the soul, and he appears to have had a much greater sympathy with Herder and Jacobi. In the Letters to his future son Hans Paul he opposed the critical school with much philosophical acuteness and also with his own BIOGRAPHY. XXXIX peculiar weapons of humour and satire ; against Fichte he directed his " Claws Fichtina." While at Weimar he appears to have been a frequent visitor at the court of Hildburghausen. " Imagine," he v rites to Otto, " the angelic duchess with her beautiful childlike eyes, her whole face tilled with love and youth and grace, with a nightingale's voice and a mother's heart, then her sister, the Princess of Solms, still more beautiful and just as good, and the third, the Princess of Thurn and Taxis, both of whom arrived with their healthy, happy children the same day as I did. The>-e people love me and read my books most heartily and wish only that I would remain another week, to see the fourth noble and beautiful sister, the Queen of Prussia. I am always invited to dinner and supper. Yesterday I improvised on the piano before the court." One result of the visit to Hildburghausen was that the Duke conferred on him the title and privileges of a Legazionsratli ( Councillor of Legation), and another that he dedicated his "Titan," upon which he was now engaged, to the "four sisters upon the throne," and a third that he became engaged to one of the court ladies, Frkulein Caroline von Feuchtersleben. This engagement however, like a former one, appears to have been amicably broken off, both parties recognising that the difference in their posi- tions and lives threw difficulties in the way of their union. It was in the following year, when in Berlin, that ~~~~he met the lady who was to be his wife. This was Caro- line, the second daughter of the Obertribunalrath Maier. Their marriage was celebrated in May 1801. While at Meiningen where they first settled, and after- wards at Coburg, Kichter devoted himself diligently to reading and working. The six volumes of the " Titan," of which two had already appeared, were completed. Between the second and third he wrote a few small ei Xl BIOGRAPHY. works. "The secret Complaint of Men of the present Time," and "Strange Company on New Year's Night," and also the second comic appendix to "Titan." Ai>out this time too he was working at the " Wildoats " which he at first intended to publish with the title "History of my Brother," and the " Death in the other World. ' Kequests from all sides for small contributions for albums and periodicals threatened to overwhelm him ; howt-ver much he might desire to withstand these, he could not return a negative to all the demands, and we owe many valuable essays to these applications. In February 1802, he wrote to Otto that, after the " Wildoats," he would finish the "Biographical Diversions," and then write "Sieben- kas' Marriage with Natalie," and after that nothing but critical and philosophical works. The " Biographical Diversions " was intended as a companion novel to " Titan," and Richter made preparations for it with this inten- tion; for " Siebenkas' Second Marriage" also the plan and many studies still exist, but neither of these works was completed, though many a humorous and elevating work followed besides the critical and philosophical ones. While at Coburg, Jean Paul suffered a severe loss in the death of Herder. To his grief for his friend is probably due the change which we notice at this time in his writings. The " Wildoats," which he had been working at with great pleasure, was now laid aside, and with it all imaginative writing. He turned to the "Introduction to ^Esthetics," and after the completion of that, commenced preparations for the " Levana." In 1804 he removed to Baireuth, where he devoted himself, if possible, with more energy than ever to his work. After the completion of the "Levana," we find him next writing on political subjects. His admiration for Napoleon's greatness struggled for some time with h s patriotism. For humanity he would BIOGRAPHY. xli have sacrificed his nationality ; but when the conqueror showed himself the enemy of both, Eichter no longer hesitated on which side to place himself. But he sympathised as little in the dirge of the despondent as in the cry of hatred against the enemy, and least of all did he share in the fear of Germany's annihilation. Hope seems to have been the keynote of his compositions, and in the midst of the din of war he cheered his countrymen with " The Chicken-hearted Attila Schmelzle," " Fibel the Coxcomb," and " The Droll Cynic Katzenberger." While with the more serious " Twilight " and the " Peace " and " Lent Sermons " he warned, admonished and soothed them. The following letter to Otto in May 1808 gives one a glimpse of his feelings and opinions at this time : " My heart is now rigid, barren and cold. The spring with all its starry heavens is nothing to me. I shall remain rigid and cold until the great world-game has been won. This however does not withhold me — it spura me on — from working zealously with my individual powers for the general good. Let him whom the time strikes down, first raise himself again, and then it with him. If the plurality of devils has some power, that of angels has still more. Still more, I say, for human nature gives ten angels the balance against one hundred devils. . . If this were not so, humanity instead of rising would long since have sunk under the preponderance of the weak, the stupid and the bad." While his opinions strengthened the love of many of his old friends and also gained him many new ones, they did not fail, on the other hand, to estrange many from him. Among these latter was the Duke Emil August of Gotha, who had formerly been one of his great admirers. The loss of his favour, however, was comper sated for by Xlii BIOGEAPHT. the friendship of another German Prince, namely, Carl von Dalberg, Prince of Primas. He was the first who remembered the princely privilege of showing gratitude in the name of his people to their benefactor, and not content with admiring Eichter's genius and praising his powers, he thought also of the conditions necessary for the development of these powers and granted him a yearly pension of 1000 guldens. Such assistance was the more wel- come as the King of Prussia had withdrawn a promise, given some years before, that he would grant him a prebendary. The "Autumn Flowers," published in 1810, is a collection of essays and short pieces on political and other subjects, which had first appeared in magazines and which he now collected into a volume. Two years later, after the termination of the war, he commenced " Xicolaus Margraf "' (The Comet), a comic novel. He appears to have made more extensive preparations for this than for any other of his books, and worked at it with much pleasure. " I am now boiling and roasting over a large comic work," he writes in July 1813. " But in it I have vowed I will not again do as I have done hitherto, for in all my comic works, like a child born ball-shape and straightway crucified on a pillow, I have yielded to the strict rules of art, and have, alas ! been only too proper ; now I will give myself the reins and go where I will — up, down, in flights and springs— with real boldness. My friend, I will retrieve and postscript my youth in age." Too much work and anxiety began about this time to tell on Eichter's robust health, and we find him making frequent little tours for the sake of change of scene. On one of these trips in 1812, he met with F. H. Jacobi in Niirnberg, with whom he had long corres- ponded but not met personally. Four years later, when visiting Eegensburg, he made the acquaintance of Prince Primas Carl von Dalberg, whom we have already men- BIOGRAPHY. xliil tioned. With him Richter seems to have been on good terms. He writes to Otto, " I have never in so short a time become one-eighth part so fond of a prince. Cf an evening we often sit until dusk before the half-emptied bottle and talk of religion, philosophy and scientific topics of all kinds." The following year (1817), Richter -visited Heidelberg, where he made the acquaintance of such men as Voss, Paulus, Hegel, Schwarz. He here received his doctor's degree, and was feted by professors and students as he had never been before. To his wife he writes, " I have passed hours here such as I have never ex- perienced under the brightest heaven of my life, in particular the water-party, the students' Vivats and the songs from the old Italian music, but I thank the Allgood as well as I can by gentleness, modesty, love and justice to all." The piece called " The Evergreen of our Feelings " which is a memorial of this visit, was written soon after his return home. Besides new editions of some of his other works, he now at the request of his friends began the Auto- biography, for which however he appears to have had no zest. In 1818 he wrote to Voss, " At present I am writing my life, though I would rather write that of any one else, yet I must do it for no one knows my inner life but God and the devil ; the form however of the Biography will be different from that of all former ones." And again, " I have little pleasure in the Biography because there is no scope for imagination in it, and I have never even in novels liked to let the bare history flow on without the two banks of jest and feeling, and also because I care for no one less than myself. I wish I could relate my life to you, and you could put it in proper shape ; but I doubt not I shall find or make the right vehicle for it." In this frame of mind he attempted to weave his life into the story, "Nicolaus Margraf," already mentioned, which he was now writing, or to bring it in wine other way in con- xliv BIOGRAPHY. nexion with the store of thoughts and ideas which he nad hoarded in his brain. But the work does not appear to have become less distasteful, and he laid it aside before he had proceeded far and devoted himself with more energy to the " Comet." We now fast approach the end. In 1821, he received a blow from which he never recovered, in the death of his son Max, a promising young man, who died while at the university, of a nervous fever brought on by overwork, and aggravated by a despondent state of mind induced by the study of philosophy. After his son's death, Eichter appears to have lost his taste for satirical humorous writing. The Autobiography and " Comet " were laid aside and he began immediately the " Selina," a work on the immortality of the soul, which however he did not live to finish. In the spring following his son's death while he was staying at Dresden whither he had gone to- recruit his health, he found that he was fast losing the sight of one of his eyes. Doctors and opticians were unable to help him, and symptons of dropsy which showed themselves necessitated a course of treatment which increased the malady in his eyes. The last weeks of his life were spent with his nephew, Otto Spazier, in revising his works for a complete edition. He does not appear to have thought that his end was so near, and looked forward with much pleasure to completing the work he had already begun. But towards the last his strength failed him rapidly, and on the 14th of November, 1824, his spirit found its rest. JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER, AUTOBIOGRAPHY. i. C J AUTOBIOGKAPHY. FIRST LECTURE. WONSIEDEL — BIRTH — GRANDFATHER. My dear Friends, — It was in the year 1763, on February 15th, that the peace of Hubertsbnrg came to this world, and after it the present Professor of the history of him- self; and this in the month in which the yellow and grey wagtails, the redbreasts, the cranes, and other snipes and waders, arrived with him, namely, in the month of March,— and this, too, on that day of the month on which the spoonwort and the trembling poplar the speedwell and the henbit, just come opportunely into blossom for anyone who may wish to strew flowers on the cradle, namely, on the 21st of March, — and this, too, in the earliest, freshest time of day, namely, at 1.30 a.m.; but what crowns all, is, that the beginning of his life was at the same time the beginning of that Spring. This last idea, that I, the Professor, and the Spring- were born together, has been introduced by me in conver- sation, I suppose, a hundred times already ; but I inten- tionally discharge it here, like a cannon-shot, for the 101st time, in order that by the discharge I may be incapaci- tated from offering again as a bonmot-bonbon that which has already been handed round to the whole world through the printer's devil. It is a misfortune when Fate herself has laid a pun, like a nest-egg, in the history of anyone, be he the wittiest of men, and let him hatch new ideas by bushels; for on this egg he sits and broods a whole lifetime, in hopes of hatching something. For instance, I b 2 ■4 JEAN PAUL FRiEDElCH RICHTEK. once knew a barber and a coachman, both of whom, on being asked what they were called, invariably answered, neither differently, nor more simply or less wittily, than, Tlir gehorsamer Diener (Your humble servant) ; or else, Uir Diener Diener (Your servant Diener) ; now the cause was that each had the misfortune to be called Diener (servant), and thus the indelible mark (character indebilis) of a standard joke was, as it were, tonsured on their heads, or they were both condemned to one perpetual idea ; the trade wind of their wit blew continually in one direction. And still less, my honoured friends, let us hope to sur- prise a man who bears a name, common and proper at the same time, such as Ochs (Ox) and Bapinat (Plunder) both formerly in Switzerland — Wolf—Schlegel (Mallet) — Bichter (judge) — to surprise, I say, such a double-named man with a pun, be it ever so brilliant ; for he has lived long enough with his name for any pun to be quite stale to him, which, to his new acquaintance, appears new, fresh and witty. Milliner, now, was more successful with his pun on Schotten (Scotchmen) and Scliatten (shadows); for no Schotten ever considered themselves Schatten, and no Scliatten Schotten : they are eternally separated by two vowels. I return to my story, and find myself among the dead ; for all are now out of the world who saw my entrance into it. My father, J ohann Christian Christoph Bichter, was Terzius * and organist in Wonsiedel ; my mother, Sophia Eosina, was the daughter of a cloth- weaver, J ohann Paul Kuhn, in Hof. On the day following my birth, I was baptized by the senior Apel. One godfather was the above-mentioned .] ohann Paul; the other was Johann Friedrich Thieme, a bookbinder, who did not know at that time on what a Maecenas of his handicraft he bestowed his name ; from these two sprang the compound name Johann Paul Friedrich, the grandfather's half of which I translated into French, and thus made of it one complete name — Jean * To understand this title and others occurring afterwards, the reader must know that a German gymnasium, or high school, has eight masters — the Rector, or headmaster, Conrector, Subrector, Quintus, Quartus, Tertius, Secundum, Primus. The classes are arranged in the inverse order ; the first class, or Prima, being the highest. Boys in the Prinia are called Primaners, in the Secunda Secunda- uere, and so on. — Tr. ATITOBIOGKAI'HY. Paul, for reasons which will he fully explained in later lectures of this winter season. But for the present we will let the hero and subject oi these historical lectures lie unheeded in the cradle and on the mother's breast, and sleep long enough — from the long morning-sleep of life there is little of general historical in- terest to be learned — sleep long enough for me to speak, if only shortly and insufficiently, of those towards whom my heart inclines itself and my pen — of my relations, my father, mother, and grandparents. My father was the son of the Eector,* Johann Eichter, in Neustadt at Culm. Little is known of him except that he was poor and pious in the highest degree. When either of his surviving grandchildren goes to Neustadt, he is still received with grateful love and joy by the in- habitants ; the old ones tell how conscientious and strict were his life and his tuition, and yet how cheerful. A little beach behind the organ is still shown where he knelt every Sunday in prayer, and a cave, too, made by himself in the so-called Culm, wherein to pray, which still remained until the time when his fiery son — although only for him too fiery — played with the Muses and Penia. The evening twilight was a daily autumn to him, in which pacing up and down the scantily furnished school- room, he would reap the harvest of the day and prayer- fully think over the sowing for the morrow. His sch< ol- house was a prison, not with bread-and-water, but with bread-and-beer fare ; more than this — with perhaps a little pious contentment thrown in — was not allowed by a rectorate, though united with the offices of Cantor] and Organist ; for, in spite of this lion-society of three offices, it did not yield more than 150 guldens per annum. At this hunger- well, not uncommon for Baireuth schoolmen, jstood the man who had formerly been Cantor at Behau, for five-and-thirty long years, — and drew. Me might assuredly have got a few more scraps and halfpennies if he had been promoted, say, to the post of country clergy- man. Whenever the schoolmasters change their clothes — when they exchange the school-gown for the priest's gown, — they receive better victuals, j list as tbe silkworms, at eacb * See note above. t The leader of the choir. — TV. 6 JEAN PAUL FEIEDKICH EICHTEE. fresh skinning, get better food ; and in this manner such a man, by increase of his work, may increase his income to such an extent, that he may come up with those state officials with their pensions and gratuities, whose five- note lines of prizes are carried through the complete score of the cabinet, in spite of all pauses of the instrument. "When my grandfather called on the boys' parents, which he did occasionally, more for the pupils' than the parents' sake, he would take of the above-mentioned beer and bread, at which he remained all his life, a piece of the latter in his pocket, and expect only a tankard of beer from his host. At length, in the year 1763 — just the year of my birth — it fell out that he was elected, probably through special connexions with some Higher Powers, to an important position, one for which the rectorate, the town, and the Cuhnberg were very readily given up. He was exactly seventy-six years four months and eight days of age when he actually received the said place in the Neustadt -—graveyard ; his wife had already gone twenty years before to her place beside him. My parents were called with me to his death-bed when I was a child of five months old. He was dying, when a clergyman (as my father has often told me) said to my parents : " Let the old Jacob lay his hand on the child's head and bless him ;" and thus I was put on his death-bed, and he laid his hand on my head. pious grandfather ! Often have I thought of thy hand blessing me while already growing cold in death, ■when fate has led me out of dark hours into brighter ; and I can, too, hold firm to my belief in thy blessing in a world permeated and animated by Miracles and Spirits. My father was born in Xeustadt on the 16th of December, 1727 — born, I might say, rather for the winter of life than, like me, for a spring, had not his vigorous nature been able to carve a safe haven for him even among the icebergs. He could only afford to enjoy, or rather endure, the Lyceum at Wonsiedel, as Luther did his school in Eisen- ach, as a so-called Alumnus (poor scholar) ; for when a yearly income of 150 guldens had to be divided between father, mother, and several sisters, nothing at all, or at best only Alumnus-hread., could fall to his share. Later he entered the Gymnasium poeticum at Eegensbnrg in order, not AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 7 only to hungerin a larger town, but also to cultivate the real blossom of bis nature instead of the leaves, — which blossom was music. In the chapel of the Prince of Thurn and Taxis — the well-known connoisseur and patron of ruusic — he could do homage to the saint for whose service he was born ; and twenty years later he became a favourite composer of church music in the principality of Baireuth. On the eve of Good Friday he would perform, to the delight of us children as well as of himself, the heilige Allmacht, with which the Catholics edified and purified their souls at that time. To my grief, 1 must confess that when some years ago I was in Eegensburg, amongst all its antiquities and remembrances — not excepting even the Imperial Diet — my father's hard life was the most important of all to me ; and often in the palace of Thurn and Taxis, and in the narrow streets, where a couple of stout fellows would have hard work to get by each other, I have thought of the confined wjvvs and narrow paths of his youthful days. Later, at Jena and Erlangen, he studied, not music, but tbeology r , perhaps merely for the sake of worrying himself for a time, namely, until his thirty -second year, as a private tutor at Baireuth, in which town his son has collected the whole of this information. For by the year 1760 he had already wrested from the state the post of Organist and Ttrzius in the town of Wonsiedel, and thus in this matter had more and earlier good-luck, under the Markgraf of Baireuth, than that candidate in Hanover (of whom we read), who, being seventy years old, received no other posi- tion in the church than the one close by in the churchyard. But now, I pray, let not any of my audience fear, from what has been already said, that they are going to be introduced to a pitiable object of a father, who, like many a modern hypocrite, goes about swaddled in tear-soaked handkerchiefs ; he lived on wings, and was sought in the families of Brandenburg, and Schbpf as the pleasantest and most amusing companion. This power of social humour accompanied him throughout his life, though in his minis- terial duties he was known as one of the strictest of divines, and in the pulpit as a so-called law-preacher. He won the hearts of his relations in his native town hy his enthusiastic sermons, and in Hof in the Voigtland he won 8 JEAN PAUL FR1EDRICII RICHTER. something still more important — a bride, and, what was yet more difficult, her rich parents into the bargain. When a citizen, who has become wealthy by cloth-making and veil-selling, does not refuse the prettiest, and most loved of his two delicately nurtured daughters to a needy Terzius, who, together with his creditors, lives within a day's journey of him, — then, I say, this Terzius on the one hand can only have overcome daughter and parents by much merit of his personal attractions, and by the fame and im- pressiveness of his great pulpit gifts ; and on the other hand there must have dwelt in the cloth-weaver a soul above his cloth and money, for which talent and clerical worth shone with more lustre than did the glittering silver of an ordinary being. On the 13th of October, 1761, the beloved went as bride with her treasures to the cramped little school-house, which luckily was not made any smaller by house-furniture. His cheerful disposition, his indifference to money, united with his confidence in his housekeeper, left abundance of superfluous empty room in the Terzius conch-shell for all moveable possessions from Hof which might wish to take up their abode with him ; but my mother — in those days married people were so, and a few are still — minded the bareness throughout her married life as little as my father himself did. The strong man should have courage to wed either the rich landowner, or, just as well, the poor housekeeper. In my historical lectures, I warn you, hunger will occur with ever-increasing power — in the case of the hero it reaches a very high pitch — and as often, I daresay, as the feasting in Thiimmel's " Travels," and the tea-drinking in Richardson's " Clarissa ; " yet I cannot help saying to poverty, " Be welcome ! provided only that thou comest not quite too late in life." Eiches fetter talent more than poverty : many an intellectual giant ruay lie stifled under thrones and golden mountains. When the oil of wealth is poured on the flames of youth, and especially of the more ardent, stronger youth, then will little more be left of the Phoenix than the ashes ; only a Goethe has the power to keep his Phoenix wings unsinged in the sun of pros- perity. The poor historical Professor would not, for much money, have had much money in his youth. Fate does with AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 9 poets, as we do with birds — it darkens the warbler's cage until he has caught the oft-played air that he is to sing. But spare, just Fate, the old man from want, for he it is who ought not — must not — be without. The heavy- years have bent his back too much already, he can no more erect himself as the youth, and carry his burdens lightly on his head. The old man, while still on the earth, already needs the rest within it ; of the world he can use only the present and but little future, for now he has no more the planting, blooming future as foil for his present. Two steps from the last and lowest bed, with no other curtains than the flowers, he wishes still to rest and to slumber a little in the old grandfather's chair ; and, half asleep, to open his eyes once more, and gaze on the old stars and meadows of youth. And I have little objection — for he has done the most important part for the next as well as this world — if, in the evening, he looks forward to his breakfast next morning, and in the morning to his bed, and if the world lets him depart, in his second childhood, amid those harmless pleasures of the senses, with which she received him in his first. Only one single error on my father's part may be laid to the charge of poverty, namely, that he sacrificed himself like a monk to his ministerial office, instead of devoting himself with his whole musical soul to the tone- muse ; that he suffered his genius to be buried in a village church. The Church-ship was in those days, it is true- particularly in the opinion of Burger parents-in-law— the Provision-ship or Air-ship, and the needy son of music i strove to run into the haven of the pulpit. But whoever ) feels in himself a declination and inclination of his ' magnet- needle, not urged on him by wants or education, but growing up with him, let him follow its pointing with confidence, as that of a compass through the desert. Had the present Professor of history imitated his father, as the latter wished, he now, instead of giving these lectures, would be delivering sacred official discourses and speeches, both casual and otherwise ; and would probably be enrolled in the universal " Magazine for Preachers," only, alas, to swell it more immoderately. But my father was not in reality unfaithful either to 10 JEAN PAUL FRIEDEICH FJCHTER. himself or his muse ; for did she not visit him, as his Old love, in the cloister attire of the Blessed Virgin, bringing him the church music every week to the lonely, toneless parish of Joditz ? And, on the other hand, there dwelt in him also another power besides his musical talent, which sought play-room in the pulpit ; for although, as the old saying tells us, great musicians are generally given to the sensual pleasure of drinking, and, as Lavater says, to that of eating, and in this way the Kapellmeister* may appear as his own cellar-master and steward, yet one does not hear that they were particularly good pulpit orators in addition to this. Eloquence, the prosaic wall-and-door neighbour to poetry, dwelt in my father's ministerial heart; and the same sunbeams of genius, which in the morning of his life awakened melodious strains, as in a Memnon's statue, united afterwards in the pulpit a genial light with the thunder of the law. I am quite aware, my friends, that I am talking a long time of my relations and praising them highly ; but I will immediately begin, I assure you, to speak of myself, and then I shall with difficulty stop again. This very praise which I bestow on my father would appear to him, if he was still living, just as important as it appears vain to me, when I picture him to myself in Eternity, where he will not be particularly proud, amongst the blessed, that in the year 1818 he was again announced from my lecturing chair as a composer of church music in the principality of Baireuth — and just this and a similar coldness must my son expect of me, if ever on some future day, after I have become a spirit, he shall eagerly tell to the world the universal applause which my works have won, — but let him on this account paint them, as little as I have done, either more coldly or more shortly. The fact is, most honoured sirs, I would ten times rather give you historical lectures on my forefathers than on myself. What a different form does the past take, which otherwise were so unfamiliar to us, when our relations pass through it and link it in brotherly alliance with our present ! That man is to be envied whose * The Kapellmeister, or Capellmeister, is the director of the royaJ orchestral band. AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 1 1 history accompanies lain: back from his forefathers to their forefathers, and thus colours a grey time with, green. For we cannot paint the times in which our grandparents and great-grandparents lived, even when they themselves were old, otherwise than in the brightness and freshness of youth ; just as in reality we compose our future world of old men and not of youths. 1 return at length to the hero and subject of our lectures, and call particular attention to the fact that I was born in Wonsiedel (wrongly called Wunsiedel), a town on the Fichtelgebirge. The Fichtelgebirge, one of the highest regions of Germany, gives health to its inhabitants (they would be the first to dispense with the Alexanderbad), and strong, tall figures ; and the Professor leaves it to his audience to decide whether he appears in his chair of office as a confirmation of, or an exception to this. It is vexatious, I may add, for a man who would best like to make himself a name in his native town, that the Wonsiedlers swallow the r at the beginning and end of the words with which, as every one knows, the name " Richter " must commence and finish. The an- cestors of the Wonsiedlers, moreover, have been crowned from all times with laurel wreaths for their bravery in war, which is what I must wish for them as my village ancestors ; and from history* it is sufficiently well known how they withstood and defeated the Hussites ; and if for "Hussites" we put "critics," anyone who will count my victories over the enemies from Hussite Nikolai to Hussite Merkel, will perhaps think that the race has not de- generated in bravery. In Wonsiedel, the sixth town of the six so-called Con- federate States, there was always, at any rate for Patriotisn and for societies for help and justice, a sixth creation day, and German love, fidelity, and strength took up thdir abode there. I am glad to have been born in thee, ttou little town under the long and lofty mountain-range, * According to the detailed account of the Fichtel-berg (Lei jzig, 1716), p. 52, the Hussites had laid waste the whole of the land above the mountain range ; but on the Friday before Pentecost the Wonsiedlers repulsed 18,000 of the Bohemians, who had stcrmed their town three times. 12 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. whose tops look down on us like eagle-heads. Thou hast adorned thy mountain throne by the steps thereto, and thy healing spring gives strength — not to thee — but to the sick, to climb to the canopy above him and to the command of the distant villages and plains. I am glad to have been born in thee, thou little but good and bright town. It has often been remarked that the first-born are generally of the female sex. To this observation the subject of our history is no exception, in spite of his right of primogeniture ; for as his parents were married in October, 1761, and he was born in March, 1763, another little being (as he has heard), for this world only a shadow, had gone before him and begun its existence in the light of another world, perhaps without having seen the light of this one. The far-reaching memories of childhood bring joy to the tottering man, striving in this wave-existence to get a firm hold anywhere ; yes, they elevate him more than one can say — much more than the memories of his later and more busy life ; and this perhaps for these two reasons, — firstly, that he thinks, by thus 'ooking back, to force his way nearer to the gates of life guarded by spirits and darkuess ; and, secondly, he hopes in the mental power of early consciousness to find, as it were, an independence of this contemptible little mortal b<>dy. I am glad that I am still able to recall a dim, faint recollection of the time when I was twelve or at, most fourteen months old, like the first mental snowdrop out of the dark soil of childhood. I still remember that one of the poor scholars was very fond of me, and that he used always to carry me about in his arms — whi'h is more pleasant than being carried on the hands* in later life — and used to give me milk to drink in the large gloomy room of the Alumni. His distant fading picture and his love for me hovered over many years. Now alas ! I know his name no more ; but yet it is possible that he is still living, far on towards his seventieth year, and the wide-read scholar may meet * The German expression, auf den Handen tragen (to carry on the hands), means "to treat with great affection" or "regard." Eichter was more ?ousrht after in later l.fe than he cared to be. AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 13 with these lectures, and may then call to mind a little Professor whom he carried about and kissed. Ah ! if it should be so, and he should write — or if to the old man the older man should come! This little morning-star of earliest memory still shone brightly in the low heaven of boyhood, but has grown more and more pale the higher the daylight of life has risen ; and now in reality I remember only this one thing clearly, that I formerly remembered all more clearly. As my father had already received his appointment as pastor at Joditz in the year 1765, 1 can the more exactly separate the reliquary of my Wonsiedler childhood from the early remembrances and reliques of Joditz. This village is the second scene of this little historical melodrama; where, most honoured ladies and gentlemen, you will meet the hero of the piece under entirely new circumstances in our second lecture ; for each lecture is laid in a new place of residence. Indeed, the whole history of these lectures, or the lectures of this history, are so skilfully and successfully arranged, that of the three usual unities of an historical drama, besides the first one of place — for of course I must make my appearance in the various places where I sojourned — besides this one, I say, no other unity but that of time is transgressed, for the hero from his entrance into life to his entrance on his professorship, must always be passing from one time to another; not to mention that while representing and acting the piece he must offend the unity of time by him- self growing older ; but in return for this he holds firmly the unity of interest running throughout, which can hardly be imagined greater than it is. But our hero's upward ascent has already begun, and we have the pleasure in our second lecture of meeting again, after two years, as the pastor's son, the historical personage whom in the first we left as the son of a Terzius only ; for in 1765 my father was called to Joditz by the Baroness von Plotho (a Bodenhausen by birth) of Zedtwitz, the wife of the same Plotho who was ambassador to Frederic the Only at the Imperial Diet of Kegensburg, in the beginning of the Seven Years' War. 14 JEAN PAUL FPJEDRICH EICHTER. SECOND LECTUEE. EMBRACING THE PERIOD FROM THE 1ST OF AUGUST, 1765, TO THE 9TH OF JANUARY, 1776 — JODITZ — VILLAGE IDYLS. Much honoured Ladies and Gentlemen, — You now meet the Professor of his Autobiographical History in the village of Joditz, "whither he accompanied his parents in woman's hood and girl's frock. The Saale, which took its rise, like myself, in the Fichtelgebirge, had followed me thither, just as in later years it flowed past Hof when I went to live there. This river is the most beautiful, or at any rate the longest, river in Joditz, flowing round the town by the mountain side. The village itself is crossed by a little brook, with a wooden bridge. A commonplace castle and parsonage might well be the most important buildings here. The suburbs were not more than twice the size of the village itself, if one did not climb the mountain side ; and yet to the Professor of his own history that village is of yet more importance than the town of his birth, for in it he passed the most important time of his life, namely, the boy-Olympiads. I never could give my sympathy to those nineteen towns which quarrelled (according to Suidas) for the honour of being the birthplace of Homer, just as little as with those Dutch places, all of which would wish (according to Bayle) to have given birth to Erasmus. What can there be of such importance in the first day before or after nine months. At the place of the grave the inhabitants might have more share in the merit — and also in the blame — than at the place of the cradle. Although, on the whole, many princes are l)orn in capital towns, yet London, Paris, Berlin and Vienna are not proud of this ; for if they were, then, by converse reasoning, would all those towns and villages where great rogues have been born have to be ashamed. The birth-lands might, at the most, be allowed to presume on the honour of the birth-towns in them, if AUTOBIOGEAPHY. 15 any favourable judgment could be formed of their climate or inhabitants on account of their number of notable births ; but one Pindar in Bceotia does not make a swallow-summer of it. The real native town, namely, the mental one, is the place where the education begins and continues longest ; and if it is so for world-renowned men, who seldom need education and seldom make use of it, how much more is it so for village- and town-renowned, mediocre men, like my hero, who gained so much his from bringing-up and spoiling, and who, by means of both, combined with his readings (which is only a more extensive educating and spoiling institution), has really become that which he now is — a Councillor-of-Embassy of Hildburghausen, a Heidelburg Doctor of Philosophy, a threefold Member of various Societies, and the present unworthy Possessor of this Autohistorical Professorship. Let no poet, I pray, get himself born and reared in a Capital ; but rather, if possible, in a village, or, at most, in a small town. The super-abundance and over-fascination of a large town are to the delicate, excitable, young soul a feasting at dessert, a drinking of burning spirits, a bathing in glowing wine. Life is exhausted in him during boyhood ; and after the greatest he has nothing left for which to wish, but that which at any rate is smaller, namely, the village. One does not gain or acquire so much in coming from the town to the village, as vice versa, — from Joditz to Hof. Consider, too, that most important element for poets — Love. In the town he must draw around the torrid zone of his parents, friends, and acquaintance, the larger temperate and frigid zones of unloved men, who pass by him unknown, and for whom he is as little able to kind 1 a and warm his love as is a ship's crew in meeting anr. passing another vessel. But in a village one loves the whole population : no babe is buried but each one knows its name, its illness, and the mourning it has called forth. The inhabitants of Joditz thus lived and grew into one another ; and this glorious sympathy for every one in the form of a man, which thus extends even to the stranger and the beggar, gives birth to a solid love for mankind and to the right 16 JEAN PAUL FPJEDRICH EICHTER. pulsation of the heart. And then, when the poet wanders forth from his village, he brings to each whom he meets a portion of his heart, and he will have far to travel ere he has thus spent the whole of it among the streets and alleys. Undoubtedly, there is a still greater misfortune than that of being reared in a metropolis ; namely, the being reared on the road, like a child of the aristocracy, which journeys for years amid strange towns and people, and knows no other home than the travelling-coach. We now come again to the pastor's son, whose life in Joditz, I think, I shall best represent to you if I pass it before you by-and-by, in one complete year of Idyls. But first, like mist, let that precede which does not belong to the bright days ; the mist is the instruction I received, which, however, was not till after ten years. Learning of all sorts was life to me, and I would gladly have submitted myself, prince-like, to the instruction of half-a-dozen tutors ; but I scarcely had one proper one. Still do I remember the delight of that winter-evening when I received intomy hand the A, B, C book from the town, with the pencil to serve as pointer attached to it, on the cover of which were written (not without right) in real gold letters, the contents of the first page, which consisted of alternate red and black letters : a gambler derives less ecstacy before his gold and rouge et noir than I did before mine from that book whose pencil even I did not once stake. After this, — when I had taken enough private instruc- tion, with my inner Privatissima as master, to pass through the lowest classes of the school,— I was taken in a green taffeta cap, but already in short trousers (for which the schoolmistress openly supjolemented my weak little fingers) to the high school that is, the school which stood opposite the parsonage, and there with the pencil I recited my letters to them all. As usual, I became fond of every living thing in the school, and, most of all, of the thin, consumptive, but cheerful schoolmaster ; whose anxiety I always shared when on the watch for an unwary goldfinch behind the finch-trap which stood outside his window, or when he was about to throw the draw-net over the yellow-hammers on the fowling-floor out in the AUTOBIOGRAPHY 17 snow. In the Greenland winter-closeness of the crowded schoolroom. I remember still, with pleasure, the long linen stoppe s which were st lifted into small air-holes bored in the wall, and which one only needed to draw out to receive into the open mouth a refreshing stream of frosty air from outside. Each fresh letter which the schoolmaster gave me t<> write reinvigorated me — as a picture would others — and I envied the rest for reciting their lessons, for I would fain have enjoyed the bliss of spelling as well as of singing in chorus. Was it twelve o'clock and dinner not yet ready, there was then nothing left to be wished for by me and my brother Adam (who is now dead). For although he was much fonder of a bird's nest than of a whole colony of muses, we flew to the schoolroom, carrying our hunger with us — putting off the appeasing of it until later — in order not to lose a minute. People made much of this knowledge-craving self-sacrifice, but I remember very well that the common childish inclination to es ape from the regular daily round had most of all to do with it. We wanted to have our dinners a few hours later, just as on fast-days and repentance-days we always looked forward to the late dinners. When all in the house is in a state of confusion on account of white-washing, for example, or perhaps from moving to another house, or from the arrival of several guests, then the little human fools are at their zenith of delight. Unluckily I shut to myself for ever the schoolroom door, by an untimely complaint to my father about a big peasant lad (Zah was his name — that posterity may know it), who had struck me on the knuckles with his clasp-knife. In proud anger, my father henceforth gave my brothers and myself our instruction alone, and every winter I had to seethe children over the way sailing into the harbour which was closed to me. But still I had left to me the little by- pleasure of carrying over to the schoolmaster the frequent bulls and decrees of his village pope, and the Christmas gifts or presents from the newly-killed pig, or any other little plateful of eatables in place of the Romish Agnus Dei or the consecrated roses and baby-napkins. I. c 18 JEAN PAUL FEIEDEICH RICHTER. Four hours before and three hours after dinner our father used to give us our lessons, which consisted entirely of learning by rote — verses, catechism, Latin words, and Lange's grammar. We had to learn the long rules of the genders for each declension, together with the exceptions and the adjoined Latin examples, without understanding a word of it all. If on a bright summer day my father went into the country, we got some such confounded exceptions as panis and piscis to learn for the next morning ; but my brother Adam, for whom the whole day hardly sufficed for his frolics and games of all kinds, seldom had an eighth part of them left in his head, fo- it was not often that he was lucky enough to get such delightful words to decline as scamnum, or, better still, cornu, in the singular, of which he could at any rate say the Latin half. Believe me, ladies and gentlemen, it was no easy matter, on a bright June day, when the all- powerful ruler was not at home, to arrest and imprison oneself in a corner, there to stamp and impress two or three pages of words into one's head ; on a bright summer- day, I say, it was no easy matter — but it was harder still on a short, snowy one in December ; and you must not be •surprised that my brother on this account always carried away a few stripes after such days. The Professor of his own history can, however, make this general declaration, — that never throughout his whole school-life was he flogged either in part or completely ; the Professor always knew his part. But let not this rote-learning system throw a false light on my indefatigable and loving father, who would sacrifice the whole day in writing out and committing to memory the sermons for his country parishioners, merely from overstrict conscientiousness, as several times he had had proofs of his extempore eloquence; my good father, who, in his weekly visits to the schoolroom and in his doubling the public instruction for children, and in all other things exceeded his duty by self-sacrifice, and who gave his tender, warm, fatherly heart chiefly to me, and who would break out into joyful tears over any little signs of talent and progress in me. In the whole of his Hlucational system he committed no other faults, however AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 19 strange are some which may occur, than those of the head — none of the will. This method is to he recommended to the regular school- master, for hy no other is so much time and trouble spared as by this really convenient one, by which the pupil gains in his book a vicarius or adjunctus of the teacher, or his curator absentis, and magnetises himself like a powerful clairvoyant. Yes, this mental self-nourishing of children is capable of such extension, that I myself would undertake to superintend, through the letter-post, a whole school in North America, or fifty days' journey distant in the old world, merely by writing to my school- children what they were to learn each day, and keeping- some or other insignificant person there to whom they should repeat it, while I myself would enjoy the con- sciousness of their beautiful intellectual reminiscere* Lenten Sunday. In Speccius I translated, by order, a good deal at the begining into Latin with that pleasure with which I climbed onto and stripped each fresh branch of learning. I turned the latter half into Latin by myself, but was unable to find anyone to correct the mistakes. I divined the meaning of the Colloquia (conversations) in Lange's grammar from longing to know what they were about, but in Joditz my fatner did not allow me to translate anything. The Greek alphabet I studied hungrily and thirstily, in a Greek grammar written in Latin, and at the end I wrote Greek fairly— that is, as far as the handwriting was concerned. How willingly would I have learned more, and how easily. If the body did not, yet the spirit of a language easily entered into me, as the third lecture of this winter half-year will, I daresay, best show to the world. Once only, on a winter's afternoon — I might be from eight to nine years old — when my father was going to study a little La + in vocabulary book with me, that is, was going to set me to learn it by heart, and I had to read the first page over to him; — I read the word lingua, in spite of * The reminiscere Sunday is the second Sunday in Lent. As people on that day are to recall the sufferings of Christ, so here the pupils aw U> icoali to their memories the lessons which they hate learned. — Tit. c 2 20 JEAN PAUL FKIEDEICH KICHTEH. Lis corrections, not lingwa, but always lin-gua ; and repeated the same mistake, regardless of all corrections, so often, that he became infuriated, and in angry impatience deprived me of the vocabulary book and its instruction for ever. I am still unable to this day to get to the bottom of this obstinate stupidity ; but my heart was not influenced—- this it has always said to me throughout my life — by any ill-temper, as, indeed, it never was and certainly would not have been in this case, towards the father, who by a new lesson-book had just offered me a fresh boyish pleasure. This historical feature has, however, been intentionally related in this hall, in order that the impartiality of the historical researcher and Professor may be proved by those diadows which he points out, while acknowledging a hero whom he otherwise likes to display in the brightest light. Rut how often is it in life that poor innocent men, not understood and misunderstood, say lin-gua instead of the more correct lingwa, and that, too, with the tongue (lingua) which at the same time means language (lingua). With history, too, — both ancient and modern — natural history, besides the most important facts of geography, arithmetic, astronomy, and orthography — with all these branches of knowledge I became quite sufficiently ac- quamted; but not in Joditz — where 1 got on very well for twelve years without a word of them — but many years afterwards, when I acquired them piecemeal from the AH'jenieine Biblintheh. All the more ardent w*»s my thirst for books in this intellectual Sahara. Each one was a fresh green oasis, especially the Orbis Pictus and the Gebprache im Beiche der Tot I ten ; but my father's library, like many another open one, was seldom open ; except when lie was not at home and in it. At any rate, I often lay on the flat top of a wooden grating (like a magnified wild- beast cage;, and crept upon books, like the great jurist Baldus, in order to get one for m; self. Let any one only consider: in a village destitute of people, in a solitary parsonage, for such a listening soul books must have been speaking beings, wealthy foreign guests, Maecenases, tra- velling princes, and inhabitants of the new world or the first Americans for a, European. It is true that I, as an A-B-C-historian, did not in the least AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 21 understand the quarto volume of Gespraohe im Beiclie dt r Todten. but I read it as I also did the newspaper, though wily an A-R-C-geogi apher also, and could retail much in- furmation from both of them. 1 used to relate portions of the firmer to my father -one evening, the love-story of Roxana and the Turkish emperor, which I had 1 ead during his absence, — without his disapprobation, and I did the same for my newspaper extracts with an old Baroness whom we knew. My father used to have the Baireuth paper given him by his patroness, the Baroness Plotho of Zedtwitz ; every month or quarter — as often as he went to Zedtwitz — he brought the monthly or quarterly numbers h me altogether, and he and I read this huge pile with profit, just because we got them more as volumes than as single sheets. A political paper supplies one with true information, when it is read, not in separate sheets, but in monthly numbers or in volumes ; because, in the compass of a complete part, it has collected a sufficient number of sheets to counteract each other ; like the air, it cannot at once show its colour in single puffs and blows, but only in its whole extent, as the said air, shows its sky-blue colour only when in a large mass. Of a morning I usually carried my news-atlas over to the casle to the old Frau von Heitzenstein, and expounded at the coffee-table this or that portion of news which I had brought with me, and listened to mv own praises. 1 still remember a plural word, " Confoderirte," which occurred frequently at that time. Most probably this plural was in Poland, but I cannot recollect that I took the slightest interest in it, probably because I understood nothing about the matter. Thus calmly and impartially were the Polish a lairs judged in our village, as well by me as by the old Frau von heitzenstein, my audi tress. The fibres of our hero's mind, thirsting for knowledge, forced and curved themselves about in all directions to get a hold and suck in nourishment. He manufactured clocks, of which the faces were the most successful part, and which had a pendulum, one wheel, and a weight, and which stood well. A sun-dial too he devised, by marking a dial-face in ink on a wooden plate, and then setting the dial-pin v y the church clock, and fixing it there ; thus ho 22 JEAN PAUL FRIEDE1CH EICHTEE. frequently knew what time it was. He liked best tc make the figures, — as many States do. — on the clock faces, and that, too, beforehand ; and like Lichtenberg, who made the title before the book. The present author showed in miniature a cardboard box, in which he arranged a liminutive library of lGmo books made from the margins of his father's 8vo sermons, which he sewed together and cut into shape. The contents were theological and pro- testant, and consisted in every case of short explanatory notes on verses copied from Luther's Bible ; the verses themselves he omitted in his little book. Thus in our Friedrich Eichter, there already lay a little Friedrich von Schlegel, who, in just the same way in his extract " Lessing's Geist," picked out Lessing's opinion on cer- tain authors, but was not particular to state the passages themselves. In the same way our hero threw himself into the art of painting also ; many a mounted Potentate sat, or rather lay, to him while he traced round his features with a fork in such a way that a piece of paper underneath, covered with grease and soot, and with the reverse side down- wards, left striking likenesses of them printed on a sheet of white paper under it. That, under sunnier circumstances, he might have unfolded into a second Eaphael Mengs, who, unlike the first one, had to be whipped from his painting, not to it, I hardly think at present, however brightly coloured the first white and red balls, the square red bricks, the rounded slate pencil, and the splendid colour-shells in the paint-box, and the green rose-beetles may still shine in my memory ; and though something may be inferred from the fact that on the receipt of a paint-box, he coloured the whole of the Oibis Pidus after life ; the supposition would only be a little more correct, than if one should predict a great financial correspondent from his skill in making herrings in- winter. This art of his, of supplying herrings on the land at such a distance from the sea-coast, was as follows : when he had to go for the bread, he would wade in the brook and would there gently raise one of the stones under which a grundel, or any other still smaller fish, was to be caught. He then put these into a hollow cabbage-stalk (this represented the AUTCiBIOUR APHY 23 herring-tun), anil duly salted them ; and as soon as the little tun was full, he would have had herrings to eat, had not they all smelt so badly. Not more suitable, but rather less so, when considered as precursors of a youthful financial correspondent, would be such surrogate con- trivances as the following, viz., that he served up the halves of dried pears for little hams, and pigeons' feet, cut off and roasted in a potsherd, for a complete dinner, 01 that he drove snails to pasture. In fact, any future historical investigator of the present historical investiga- tor, would be cousidered by me to be in the highest degree ridiculous, who should wish to deduce anything extraordinary by selecting such fragmentary pieces as are scattered throughout the childhood of anyone else ; the foolish man would seem to me just like that Parisian quack, who, with the assistance of a Jesuit, fitted together some elephant bones, and sold them as the true skeleton of the German giant, Teutobach. The beard does not make a philosopher, though it may make a sailor or a malefactor, when they come from the ship or prison with it, because, while there, they do not come under tho barber's razor. As the boundless activity of our hero threw itself more into intellectual than bodily exercises — all of which, however, he followed with indescribable avidity, he invented, not new languages, but new letters. He took the symbols of the calendar, or geometrical signs from an old book, and chemical ones or the latest ones out of his own head, and, by putting them together, made himself a new alphabet out of them. When this was done, the next thing was to make some use of his alphabetical solitaire, by clothing in it a few pages of copied matter. In this way he was his own secret writer, and a player at hide- and-seek with himself; but he could, too, without peeping into Biittner's Comparative Tables of Written Characters, read off his new ones on the spot as easily as 01 dinarv ones, because he had placed the latter, like a warrant of apprehension, letter for letter, ui der the secret ones, and only needed to refer to them. This time one could perhaps blame the so-called hi>torical investigator less, if he would see the foundation of a Council lor- of- Em 24 JEAN PAUL FR1EDRICH RICHTER. bassy, or of an ambassador himself, in this ciphering and deciphering, which, so early as this, sought merit less in the contents than in the external clothing of them. I have, in fact, since then acquired the character of a Councillor- f-Embassy, and I could do a bit of ciphering to this day. My soul, perhaps taking after that of my father, was thoroughly open to music, and for it I had a hundred Argus-ears. When the schoolmaster pla\ ed the church- goers out with his final cadenzas, my whole little being laughed and skipped with joy, as in the spring-time ; or on the morning after the night dancing at the Kirchweihe (at which my father used to send loud thunders of ex- communication on the Sunday following), when, to his vexation, the foreign musicians, together with the be- ribboned village youths drew up in front of the parsonage with their shawms and fiddles, then I would climb on to the yard wall, and a world of jubilation sounded through my yet small breast and the spring time of pleasure played therein with the spring, and I thought not a word of my father's sermons. I devoted hours, on an old untuned piano, whose only tuning-hammer and tuning-master was the weather, to my fantasias, which certainly were freer than the most daring in the whole of Europe, as I knew neither note nor chord nor anything else ; for my father, though such a finished player, had shown me neither note nor key. But when by chance I hit at times on a short melody or harmony of three to six notes — like some good modern composer of tunes for rope-dancing, witch-dancing, or finger-dancing on the piano strings -then I was indeed a happy being, and repeated my finger-hit as everlastingly as any good modern German poet repeats the brain-hit with wLieb. he gained his first applause. Heliogabalus con- demned the cook who made him some bad broth to eat nothing else but it until he had discovered a better one ; but the poet, on the other hand, acting more generously, treats the reading world to an excellent broth at so many a Leipzig book-fair, that at last it tastes as stale as the bad broth of the emperor's cook. In the future literary history of our hero, it will become doubtful whether he was not perhaps born for philosophy AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 25 lather than poetry. In earliest times the Avord " philo- sophy' — though there was also a second word, " orient ' — - was to me an open Heaven's gate, through which I looked onto long, long gardens of joy. Never shall I forget the inner sensation, hitherto untold to any, when I was present at the birth of my self consciousness, of which I can specify both time and place. ( )ne morning, when still quite a young child, I was standing under the doorway, and looking towards the woodstack on the left, when suddenly the internal vision, "I am an e#o," passed before me like a lightning flash from heaven, and has remained with me shining brightly ever since, ; my ego had seen itself then for the first time and for ever. Deceptions of the memory are here hardly conceivable, since no story related to me could mingle its additions with an occur- rence, which took place in the shrouded Holy-of-Holies of a human being, and whose strangeness alone has <:iven per- manence to such everyday circumstances as those which accompanied it. In order to represent most truthfully the Jo'litz life of our Hans Paul (for so we will call him for a time, alwa\ s however subject to change with other names), we shall do best, I think, if we conduct it through a complete } r ear of Idyls, breaking up the normal year into four seasons, like 80 many Idylic quarters : four Idyls exhaust his happiness. Let none wonder at an Idylic kingdom and an Arcadian world in a little hamlet and its parsonage. In the smallest flower-bed one can rear a tulip-tree which will stretch its flowery branches over the whole garden ; and the life-giving air can be inhaled as well at the window as in the wide wood under the open sky. Nay, is not the man's spirit itself (with all its infinite heavenfy courts) con- fined in a body five feet high, with membranes, Malpighian glands and capillaries, and having only the five narrow windows of the senses to open on that immense round-eyed, round-sunned — All ? — and yet it sees and reproduces an All. I hardlv know with which of the four Idylic quarters to begin ; for each is a little fore-heaven of the next ; but, I think, on the whole, the progression of happiness will bast appear if we begin with Winter and January. In the cold weather my father, like the Swiss flocks. 20 JEAN PAUL FK1EDRICH KICHTEIi. was brought down from the heights of his study upstairs, and, to the joy of the children, sojourned in the plain ot the parlour. In the morning he sat in the window- corner, committing his Sunday sermon to memory, while his three sons — Fritz, that is myself, Adam, and Gottlieb (for Heinrich did not come until near the end of the Joditz Idylic life), carried the full coffee-cup to him by turns, in order to enjoy the greater pleasure of bringing back the empty one, as the bearer was allowed to take out the unmelted candy-sugar which he used as a remedy for his cough. Out of doors truly all was wrapped in silence : the brook by the ice, the village by the snow; but in our room there was life — a dovecote under the stove, siskin and goldfinch cages at the windows, the invincible bull-dog, our Bonne and night-watcher of the parsonage, on the floor, besides a Spitzbergen dog and the pretty Scharniantel, a present from the Frau von Plotho — and. next door to us, the kitchen with two maids in it ; and in addition to these, at the farther end of the house, the stable, with all possible kinds of cattle, pigs and feathered things, with their accompanying noises ; the threshers too, with their flails, at work in the courtyard, I might add to the number. Thus surrounded by noisy society, the whole masculine portion of the parlour passed the morning in learning, in close proximity to the cooking of the feminine portion. No business in the world is without its holidays, and so I too had the fresh-air holidays — like mineral spring holidays— of being allowed to go out in the snow into the yard, and to the threshing-floor. And when, too, any im- portant verbal business had to be transacted in the village, at the schoolmaster's, for instance, or the tailor's, I was sent off in the midst of my lessons, and thus got out into the free and cold air and could measure in y self with the newly fallen snow. At noon, too, before our dinner-time, we children had the hungry satisfaction of seeing the threshers fall-to and devour theirs in the kitchen. The afternoon again was still more important and richer in joys. Winter shortened and sweetened the lesson hours. In the long twilight our father walked to and fro, and we children, holding his hand, trotted as well as we could AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 27 under his di'essing-gown. At the tolling of the vesper bell all arranged themselves in a circle, and with one voice sang the hymn, Diefinstre Nacht bricht stark herein. Only in villages — not in towns, where there is in reality more night- than day-work — is there a meaning and beauty in this evening tolling, this swan-song of the dying day ; the vesper bell is, as it were, a muffler to our over-loud hearts, and, like the Ranz des Vaches of the plain, it calls men from their toils and troubles to the land of quiet and dreams. After a pleasant watching for the moonrise of the tallow candle under the kitchen-door, our large room was at once lighted up and barricaded, that is, the shutters were put in and bolted, and the children felt themselves safe behind these window breastworks and ramparts, and secured against the Knecht Ruprecht, who could not now get in, but could only grumble harmlessly outside. This, too, "was the time when we children were allowed to undress and hop about in our long, trailing night-gowns. Idylic joys of all sorts alternated with one another. My father either entered in an interleaved quarto Bible, opposite to each verse, the reference to any book in which he had read anything concerning it, or else, as was more frequently the case, he had his ruled folio copying book before him. and composed complete oratorios of church- music in full score, undisturbed by the children's din : in both cases, but in the latter with most pleasure, I watched the writing and was particularly delighted when whole pages were quickly tilled by the pausing of several of the instruments. He composed his internal melodies quite without help from external notes — as Eeichard recom- mended — and in harmony undisturbed by the noise of the children. We all sat playing at the long writing and dining table — and also under it. Among the pleasures which sink for ever with the beautiful time of childhood is this one, that sometimes, when a severe frost set in, the long table was pushed up to the bench by the stove for the sake of the warmth ; we children were on the watch for this joyful event the whole winter. Now, round the ill-shaped coach-like stove were two wooden benches, and our gain was that we could sit or run on them, and that we had stove-summer close to us even at meal times. 28 JEAN PAUL FRIEDPJCU RICH TEE. But what a climax of worth did the winter evenings reach once a week, when the old errand- woman arrived in the kitchen covered with snow, and carrying her basket of meat, fruit, and other provisions from the town ; and we all had the distant town in miniature before our eyes in the room, and before our noses by means of the butter- cakes. In the earlier part of childhood a pleasure-dessert was allowed by our father of a winter evening, after the early suppers. The farm-maid served it up at her distaff in the kitchen, with as much illumination as the pine-splinters could give, which from time to time we stuck lighted into the pine-stick, as they did in Westphalia. Un this dessert- table stood — besides many other plates of sweetmeats and folk-lore ice-glasses, such as Cinderella — the pine-apple oi a story of the maid's own forcing, about a shepherd and his combats with the wolves, in which at one time the danger was on the increase, and at another his resources. I still feel the success of that shepherd, as if it was my own, and in this I see, from my own experience, that children are much more affected in stories by the progression of pro- sperity than of adversity, and that they wish the heavenly path to lead upwards to infinity, but the other one only so far downwards as is necessary for the exaltation and glorification of the heavenly throne. These children's wishes become men's wishes, and we would more strongly demand their fulfilment from the poet, if a new heaven were as easy to create as a new hell. But any tyrant can give unheard-of pains, while for the discovery of unheard- of joys he himself must offer prizes. The skin is the foundation of this ; upon it, inch by inch, a hundred hells can pitch their camps, but the five sense-heavens hover airy and uniform above us. Only the end of the winter evening contained a horrid wasp sting, or vampire tongue, for our hero. The children, you must know, had to betake themselves at nine o'clock to the guest-room, in the second floor ; my brothers were together in one room, and I shared the guest-room with my father. Until he had finished his reading downstairs, which lasted for two hours, I lay up above, with my head under the bedclothes, in a perspiration for fear of ghosts. AUTOBIOGKAPHY. 2U and in the darkness I saw the lightning in the cloudy Spirit-heaven, and it seemed to me as if man himself was spun of Spirit-caterpillars. Every night I helplessly suffered thus for two hours, until my father at length came upstairs and drove away the ghosts, like a morning sun chasing away the dreams. The next morning all fear was quite forgotten, as if it had been a dream, though it always returned again in the evening. Vet I have never said a word about this, — except to the world this day. This terror of ghosts was certainly — if not created, yet — fostered by my father. He spared ns not one of all the ghostly apparitions and tricks of which he had heard, and even on some occasions believed himself to have ex- perienced ; but, like the old theologians, to a firm belief in them he joined a firm courage against them, and Christ and the Cross were his shield against the whole ghostly universe. Many a child, physically very timid, displays at the same time great spiritual bravery, but merely from lack of imagination ;* while a second child, on the other hand — like myself — trembles at the invisible world, because the imagination gives it a visible form, but easily takes courage against the visible, as that never reaches the depth and height of the other. Thus any sudden appearance of physical danger — for example, a horse running away, a thunder-clap, war, or the fire alarm — made me only collected and calm, because I fear only with the imagina- tion, not with the senses ; and to me, even a ghostly form would at once congeal to an ordinary earthly body, if I had once got over the first shudder, so long as it did not drive me again, by grimaces and noises, into the endh>s realm of fancy. But how, then, is the instructor to guard against the preponderance of the tragic spirit-invoking imagination? Not by refutation or Hiesterian and Wag- nerian resolutions of the supernatural into the com- monplace — for the possibility of unresolved exceptions still remains firmly grasped by the deepest feelings — but partly by prosaically leading up to, quartering on, and familiarizing with the times and places, which otherwise kindle the bewitching flames of the imagination, and * Into many prosaic souls one ought to instil a little spiritual fear, from religion or poetry. 30 JEAN PAUL FEIEDRICH EICHTER. partly by arming the fancy against fancy, by opposing th€ spirit to the spirit, and to the devil— God. Even in the day-time, on particular occasions, this ghostly dread would sometimes come over me. At a burial, I always had to carry my father's Bible through the church into the sacristy, before the procession with pastor, schoolmaster, children, cross and myself, set out amid psalms from the church to the cemetery near the village. Willing and courageous enough did I gallop through the gloomy silently-hearkening church into the little sacristy ; but which of us can picture to himself i he fear- ful, trembling flight-leaps with the whole spirit world pursuing at my heels, and that frightful shoot from the church-duor ? And if one did describe it, who would not laugh ? And still I always accepted the office of Bible- bearer without a word, and silently kept my fear to myself. We come now to a larger Idylic period, to the Joditz spring and summer. The two seasons, particularly in the country, fall for various reasons into one Idyl. The spring (in reality) dwells only in the mind; outside in the fields there is only summer, which everywhere is con- trived onl}- fur the fruits and the present. The snow is the curtain which merely requires to be drawn up from the stage, or the eartn, that the summer pleasures may begin in the village — the town takes its pleasures only in the winter — for ploughing and sowing are themselves a spring harvest to the countryman, and for a part>on who farms his own fields, and for his cooped-up sons they bring fresh scenes upon the stage. We poor children, shut up in the parsonage by our gaoler and the winter, were then freed by the heaven-sent angel of spring, and let out into the open fields, and meadows and gardens. Then there was ploughing, sowing, planting, mowing, hay- making, corn-cutting, and harvesting ever3 r where. Our father was there and helped, and the children helped him, I particularly, as the eldest. You should only know, my friends, what it is to escape suddenly, — not from town walls, which enclose many a field within them, but — from parsonage walls, out over the whole village, and beyond it, into tin un walled space and to look down from above into the village, which one has never seen into from below. AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 31 My father did not superintend the field-labours as an overseer or taskmaster (although they were carried on by socmen), but as a kindly pastor, who wished to take part alike with nature and his flock. When I see other ecclesiastics, land possessors and avaricious men, equipped so plentifully from head to foot with sucking-trunks, sucking-stings, and all kinds of sucking appliances, i find in my father's case, on the other hand, that the sucking-in system was in altogether a too languishing and weak condition; ten times a day he would think of giving, — he had but little to do it with,— but hardly once of taking, by which, however he himself might have been enabled to give ; since then, I have had cause to admire the good food- forceps of "many a human insect, but my father held nothing in his hand but the birth-forceps, which bring and preserve the life of others. Heavens ! how different — and how is it that people do not understand this better ? — are the regular commercial, clerical, and noble men, who, although they know what is fitting, use their hands as good bird-traps, which open and shut only to catch something, and who only open their hands in order to shut them. Now began our life in, that is under, the heavens. Those mornings still twinkle with fresh-fallen dew on which I used to carry my father's coffee to him in the parsonage garden, beyond the village, where he was learning his sermon in the little summerhouse, with windows opening on all sides, just as we children used afterwards to learn our Lange in the grass. The evening took us a second time into the garden among the currant and gooseberry bushes, to gather the salad with our mother. Being able to have supper without candles is one of the unrecognised pleasures of the country. When we had enjoyed this, my father used to take his pipe out of doors, that is, into the walled court of the parsonage, while 1 and my brothers sprang about in our long night-gowns in the fresh evening air, and behaved like the swallows, still crossing each other, above our heads, and flew nimbly hither and thither, just as though collecting for our nests. The most lovely of summer birds (a delicate blu3 butter- fly) fluttered around our hero in this beautiful season ; it was his first love. She was a blue-eyed peasant girl of his own age, with slim figure, oval face, slightly marked 32 JEAN PAUL FEIEDPJCH RIOHTER. with small-pox, but with a thousand looks which take captive the heart as in a magic-circle. Augusta, or Augustina, lived with her bro her Romer, a fine young fellow, known as a choral singer and reckoner. It did not indeed come to a declaration on the part of Paul, — - unless this lecture shall fall into her hands, — but he played out his love story with spirit at a distance, she in the women's seats in church, and he in the vicar's pew, by looking at her closely enough, and not growing tired of it. But this was the beginning only ! for when of an evening she drove her milch cows home, which he always knew b\ the unforgetable bell, he used to climb on the wall to see and beckon to her, and then ran again to the door, to the speaking-grating. — she the nun without, he the monk within, — in order to screw his hand through a chink, (no more than this was allowed outside.) and to drop something eatable into her hand, sugar-almonds, or some other dainty, which he had brought from the town. Many a summer, alas! he did not three times attain to such happiness, — generally he had to consume all the good things himself, and the vexation into the bargain. Yet when for once his almonds did fall, not on stony ground, but in the Eden of his eyes, then these grew from them in hie imagination a whole blossoming garden full of fragrance, wherein he would walk for weeks. For pure love wishes only to give and to become happy by making so ; and if there was an eternity of perpetually-increasing capability of giving happiness, what would be more blissful than love ? The cow-bells remained for a lonjr time the Banz de» Vaches of the high and distant Alps of his childhood, and still his old heart's-blood would stir and boil if these sounds were again wafted to him. " They are tones," he would say, " brought by an iEolian harp out of the far, far beautiful distance, and I almost could cry with longing when I hear them." For let one associate with love even the smallest tone, if a cow even is the bell-ringer, and it redoubles its Orphic power of edifying and enchanting, and its invisible waves cradle his heart and bear it along to infinity ; he knows not whether he is at home or far away, and the man weeps for joy as well for what he haa as for what b*> Wkx. AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 33 In this focus of love Augustine remained towards Paul, and never during many years did he live to see the time when he so much as pressed her hand. Of a kiss we will not think. Even when he sometimes flew shamefaced and hastily to the lips of a plain servant girl of his parents, whom he did not love a bit, both body and soul boiled up unconsciously and innocently in the kiss ; but the actual lips of a beloved one, who shone down just at the hottest, in the aphelion, on his deepest, most spiritual love would have immersed him in burning heavens, and melted and volatilized him therein into a glowing tether. And I could wish that he had been volatilized once or a few times while still at Joditz. When in his thirteenth )'ear, he, or much more, his eye, was driven eight miles from the beloved one, as his father had received a better living, he burdened a young Joditz tailor, whom his father had taken with him, for love of the dear village he had left, and had kept for some weeks in the new and capacious parsonage, with a number of petty potentates, whom he had drawn from painted life, with grease and soot, and had coloured with deceptive exactness, with the help of his paint-box ; these he commissioned the tailor to deliver to Augustine with the message that the knights and princes were from him, and he gave them as an everlasting keepsake. Another love affair of the same period, which did not last longer than a dinner, was spun by him — the young lady did not know a word about it— quite secretly in the depth of his bosom. Once at Kciditz he sat at a table of grown-up people, opposite the said lady and stared at her incessantly. There sprang up in him a love unutterable in sweetness, inexhaustible to the gazer, a fermentation of the heart, a heavenly annihilation and dissolution of the whole being into the eye only. She did not say a word to the bewitched boy, and much less did he to her ; but had she stooped, and it might be kissed the poor youth, he would have gone straight to heaven for very bliss. He retained the feeling however more than the face, of which nothing remained but the small-pox marks. lSow as this beauty is already the second one marked with the smail-pox— in future lectures others will follow — the Professor thinks it his duty to explain to all fair, vaccin- I- D 34 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH EICHTEE. ated hearers, that he knows how to appreciate them just as much and as well as anyone else, but that at that time there was a different fashion in faces. Paul has this pecu- liarity—and he pledges himself to-day in this assemblage of beauty — that he can make any female face — whose so- called Tigliness must only not be moral ugliness — in the highest degree charming and enchanting, without all cosmetic artifices, without rouge-pots and salve-boxes, without starch or soapy water, and without night-masks, if he is allowed for the purpose, a few evenings — songs — heart-words, and that no one shall appear more beautiful than the person in question — naturally only in his own eyes ; for who can speak for others ? The lady just mentioned is a strong confirmation of this ; for when he met her again at Hof twenty years afterwards, as she was living opposite to him, he found only the marks left, nothing else ; she herself was plain and crooked, and I will not tell her name. Pure love has such unlimited power to create and elevate — just as low love has to destroy and suppress — that the representation of it would have more influence on us, had it not been described to us so often ; but it is for this reason alone that it has been able to bear the many thousand volumes which paint it. Let anyone deprive a man, who in the time of love looks on the landscapes — th© stars — the flowers and mountains — the tones, the songs — the pictures and poems — yes, and humanity and death — Avith poetic enjoyment — deprive this man, I say, of love, and he will have lost the tenth Muse, or rather the mother of the Muses ; each one feels in after years when this sacred intoxication is forbidden, that to all the Muses the tenth one is lacking. We come now to our hero's Sundays, on which days the Idyls visibly make progress. Sundays seem made for pastors and pastors' children. A good lot of Trinity Sundays, or the greatest number of them, twenty-seven, gave special delight to our Paul, although by the whole twenty-seven not a single summer day more came to the world or the church than in other years. In towns the birthdays of princes and magistrates and fair-days are the true Trinity Sundays. On a bright Sunday morning AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 3J Paul commenced his enjoyment by walking through the village before church-time with a bunch of keys, — he used to jingle them on the way to show the village that he was there — and unlocking the parsonage garden with one of them to get some roses for the pulpit desk. In the church all was bright enough, for the long windows inter- sected the cold floor and the women's pews with broad bands of light, and the sunshine fell around the enchant- ress Augustina. A pleasure, too, not to be despised \\ as the being allowed (with his colleagues in office) after church-time and before dinner to carry the regular half- pound of bread and the money to the labourers of the week , particularly as his father always liked to send the peasants an extra large piece of bread, and thus give them a pleasure, which children always like to carry, and Paul in particular. Sometimes, too, he had to carry the slice of bread to Eomer, and then he used to look around him for the saint of his church and his heart — but always in vain. For in his perspective love-painting ten steps more or less were of some consequence ; and granted that through the intervention of some particularly favourable goddess, he had stood only half a step from her — but at such un realized bliss I will not so much as hint, for he would sat then have been content without audible speech. I maintain that no occupant of the sheriffs, prince's, lecturer's, pontiff's, or any other chair has any idea how pastors' children enjoy a Sunday evening (only a member of the clergy himself can know it), when, with the two services over, they, as it were, celebrate with their father the late Sabbath rest after the church-trouble and the exchange of the surplice for the light dressing-gown — particularly in the villages where in the summer the whole population feasts and enjoys the pleasures of the eye. I should perhaps be accused of remissness if I neglected to mention another Trinity pleasure merely because it was a rare one ; on this account it was so much the more a pleasure when Hagen, the pastor of Koditz appeared with his family at the sermon to hear my father and pay him a call, and Paul's playmate, his little sen, showed himself at the church door. When Paul and his brother caught sight of him at a distance through the grating of the choir d 2 36 JEAN PAUL FEIEDRICH PJCHTER. seats, there began on both sides a fidgetting and sh .iffling, heart-leaping and signalling, and any attention to the sermon was now quite out of the question, even had pro- paganda, ten chief court-preachers and pastores primarii stationed themselves in the pulpit and talked them- selves hoarse. The present fore-Sabbath, the fore-land of brightest hopes, the luncheon of the day, must now alone be enjoyed at a distance and in church. But he who now demands a description of the holy zephyrs and calm of the evening after the first joyous storm of youthful and parental preparations, forgets that I have not unlimited powers. I should, however, like to add that late in the evening the Joditz parsonage accompanied the Koditz far beyond the vil- lage, and that consequently this tour over the village into the distance, enhanced by the parents and the little friends, especially at such a late hour, must have conferred and left behind it many blessings, of which more in the future. We now come, ladies and gentlemen, to those Joditz Idyls which were enjoyed by Paul, more without Joditz than within, and which will perhaps be most conveniently divided into those when he himself was not at home and those when his father was not. I will begin with the latter, as I reckon the absence of fathers on journeys among the unrecognized pleasures of childhood ; for at these times the mothers dispense a glorious academic freedom from reports and a full liberty of action. Paul and his brother could slip out behind their mother's back while she was deep in her business and get over the yard door (to which was attached a bell) to hunt some of the forbidden game of the village, i.e., butterflies, grundels, and birch-juice, or reeds for whistles ; or they would fetch a new playmate, the schoolmaster's Fritz, or help to toll the midday bell for the pleasure of being swung into the air by the rope. There was also another pleasure of con- siderable importance within the court-yard — only Paul might easily have broken his neck at it, and so put an end beforehand to my whole professorship. It consisted in this : Paul climbed on to the cross-beam in the barn with a ladder and then sprang into the hay lying down below to the height of a storey and a half for the pleasure of the flight through the air. AUTOBIOGEAPHY. 37 Sometimes he would place his harpsichord at the open window in an upper storey and thump violently on it that the passers-by might hear him. To make the tones louder down below, he would draw a quill sharply with the right hand across the strings, which he held down at the same time with the left on the key board. Some strokes of the quill, too, he tried on the strings beyond the bridge, but there was not much melody to be got out of that. The Joditz summer Idyls naturally occur still oftener when one entirely leaves that village and goes to another or into the town. Is there a more blessed order on a bright summer day after the repetition of the Lange's Grammar than this : " Get yourself ready to go with me to Koditz after dinner " ? Never was the dinner more tasteless. Paul had to run to keep up with his father's long strides. After an hour he had his out-door games with the play- mate and his mother — whose voice still sounds from the distance like the strains of a lute or like harmonic bells — and sometimes, too, one or another laurel wreath, large enough for his little head. His father, in paternal delight at the way in which Paul caught up and retained h>s sermons, of which on Sunday evening he would repeat the subject and the different headings straight off, used to tell him to repeat them again to their friends ; — and the little fellow, may I say it, stood the test firmly. In a boy who all his life had seen nothing greater — not. a count — not a general — not a superintendent — and very seldom a nobleman, at the most, twice in a year (the Herr von Eeitztein, who was living in concealment having been a long time under arrest) — in such a boy, it displayed courage to speak so publicly before the pastor's f unily. But fire and courage always came to him when he beg in speaking, however shy he might be when silent. Yes, did he not venture once during his father's absence, on something still more bold? Did he not one afternoon, when his father was out, take his hymn book and go forth with it to an old woman, who for years had been bedridden, and there place himself by the bedside, as if he were a full-grown pastor making a sick visit, and begin to read 38 JEAN PAUL FKIEDEICH EICHTEE. such of the hymns as were appropriate ? But he was soon interrupted by the weeping and sobbing with which, not the old woman — she remained coldly indifferent to every- thing — but he himself, listened to the hymns. One day, his father took our hero with him to the Court at Versailles, as one may call Zedtwitz without exagger- ation, (since it was the residence of the patron of the Joditz pastors. Whenever he had been at Court, which often happened twice in a month during the summer, he aroused the provincial astonishment of his wife and child in the evening to the utmost, by tales about great people and their court ceremonies, and the court feasts, and ice-cellars, and Swiss cows, and how he himself was quickly taken from the " domestics' " room to the old Herr von Plotho, then to the young lady, to whom he gave a few preliminary exercises on the piano, and finally to the Baroness von Plotho, born a Bodenhausen, and how on account of his vivacity he was always invited to the dinner table, even when (this made no difference) the most distinguished landowners of the Voigtland were dining there. But, like an old Lutheran court preacher, he acknowledged the illimitable greatness of rank, as he did the apparitions, without trembling before either. And yet, I say, how much happier are ye, children of the present time, who are brought up so self-dependently, who are taught no prostration before rank, and are strengthened from within against the external glitter ! That mile-distant prostration of the Joditz pastor's sons before the Zedtwitz throne was strengthened each year by a magnificent carriage which came always on Maundy Thursday to fetch my father, in the capacity of Confessor, to administer the sacrament to the family. The children can talk of the carriage, for they always had the delight of a drive round the village in it before starting home in the evening. You will now perhaps have some idea of our hero's undertaking when he accompanied the Court Confessor — who had talked of him among the great people with too much love and praise — to Zedtwitz to be introduced to the reigning house. After he had walked to and fro for a long time before the ancestral pictures down below in the castle, the Baroness von Plotho received him on the staira AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 39 as in a reception room ; Paul immediately darting up, grasped her dress according to court regulations and imprinted the ceremonial kiss upon it. And thus the audience was happily got over without either Knights or Courtmarshalls and the lad was free to run about again. And this he did in the magnificent garden. Scarcely has any other Ambassador than our little Hildburghausen Councillor of Legation ever inhaled and imbibed such romantic hours immediately after the stiff formal audience, as those avenues, springs, hot-beds, and arbours must have afforded to a village child, more internally than externally imaginative, who wandered alone for the first time amid these splendours with oppressed and expanding breast. What brought the soaring Paul down again to vulgar reality was a wooden bird on a string with an iron beak, which he could shoot into the black of a target. A delicious fruit cake sent down from the castle preserved the happy medium between flying and standing ; the sweet flavour of it still remains in the reliquary of our hero. ye lovely, lonely hours and walks for that hungering village child, whose heart would so fain have filled itself with — nay, even have longed for — the outer world. With less of court glitter come now, under the summer Idyls, those frequent errands which Paul, with fitting wallet on his back, had to make to his grandparents at Hof, to fetch meat and coffee and all the other things which either were not to be had at all in the village or at any rate not at the very lowest town prices. His mother supplied him with a few little coins to take with him — it must not seem as if the whole was given, — so that his grandmother, generous to her daughter and son-in-law, and stingy only to the rest of the world, might fill his wallet with anything that might then be on the bill of fare. The two hours' road led him over a commonplace, uninteresting country, through a wood, and therein over a foaming stony river, till at last from a hill-slope, the view of the town down below in the plain, with its two united towers and the Saale, filled to overflowing the heart of the little messenger who was easily satisfied. With childish dread of all times of war and tribulation, he passed the mouth of a cave on the outskirts of the town, where, 40 JEAN PAUL FPJEDRICH lilCHTER. according to the legend, the people of Hof had hidden themselves in the thirty years' war ; the neighbouring fulling-mill with its ceaseless thunderstrokes and pon- derous beams expanded his little village soul sufficiently for it to take in the town more comfortably. When now he had kissed the hand of this tall serious grandfather, sitting behind his loom, and of the joyous little grandmother, and had delivered his mother's official letter — his father was too proud to ask for anything — the scanty money was publicly handed over and the secret articles of petition were delivered up behind the door in the passage ; and in the afternoon he trotted back home with his knapsack full, and with some sugar almonds foi Augustine, in high delight over the parental provision ship on his back. fie still remembers one summer-day, when on bis home- ward journey, about two o'clock, as he was looking down on the sunlit mountain-slopes, the gliding waves of the corn-fields, and the hastening shadows of the clouds, an unknown indefinite longing came over him, with more of grief in it. than of pleasure, a longing for something he had never known. It was the whole being yearning for the heavenly goods of life, which still lay undefined and colourless in the dark depths of the heart, and which brightened momentarily under the penetrating sunbeams. There is a time of longing when the object as yet bears no name, the longing knows only its own name. In later life, too, the power of this painful, searching longing has been asserted less by the moons I line whose silvery sea 6oftly melts the heart and thus gently leads it to the Infinite, than by the afternoon sum shining over a broad landscape ; in Paul's works this is several times introduced and described. In the winter's snow also, Taul had frequently to make a journey as Hof and Holland* messenger in times of pecuniary want ; at these times he had to use his wit in ne^ociating loans with his grandfather ; so, too, in the coldest weather he was allowed to accompany his father to the hospitable parsonages in the neighbourhood. To * Holland at this time had become proverbial for its pecuniary ombarra tegmenta — Tr. AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 41 these weekly gymnastic exercises he ow,2s much of hia tenacious strength in after-life, and they certainly were the best antidote for his absurd physical training, which, like others at that time, with the fur caps, purgatives, and air preventers, the muffling, shutting up, and coddling, did not prevent, but rather prepared, an unhappy future. The village children and the poor are fortunate in this, that the summer, with its spring and autumn on right and left, happily extirpates the weeds of winter ; the plants which have faded in the winter hot-house recover im- mediately when gambolling about bare-head and bare-foot in the open air and regain their strength on the cool and fresh fare. Only the good princesses are unhelped by any season. Yet people do not believe that the summer repairs the evil of winter, but rather the reverse, that this indoor season is the doctor of the out-door one. I will now give you the last and greatest never-failing summer Idyl, which occurred regularly on the Monday after St. James' day. On that day his grandfather always sent a coach to take Paul's tender mother to the yearly fair at Hof, and he always had a place in it with them. Not to hurt the cold historian, I here remark quietly and simply, that if a mere common town is more to a village child than a Kirmess village,* surely a Jahrmarkt town must be a many-times-multiplied double-town, and conse- quently must excel in splendour all that a village young- ster has ever pictured to himself. And thus it was with Paul, who, in addition to this, was a boy not without imagi- nation. As formerly drink-offerings were sent to emperors, so our mother was always received by her parents with sweet wine, and her son went with some of it in his head to Silberer, the hair-dresser. Here he had his head cooled from outside with the curling tongs, and the tight screwing of the curl-papers ; and came back the cooler, fresher, and whiter with curls and crest, fresh out of the powder * Kirmess, Kirchrue3.-e, or Kirchweihe, was originally the festivity at the consecration of a church. It took its origin from the Jewish festivity at tlie consecration of the temples, which always took place in November, and it is thus held in that month. In the ninth century it became an annual festivity to commemorate the anniversaries of the consecration. — Tb 42 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. shower to dinner, which cannot have been a meal of much importance, as his grandfather had to hasten off very soon to sell his cloth bales in the townhall. At the evening meal, there was all the more time and abundance, as among the ancient Romans. The afternoon now offered excellent fun for Paul, who was freed from restraint, deafened and dazzled amid the variegated and noisy con- fusion of men and goods. Paul had his penny-piece of fair money from his grandmother in his pocket and could buy everything — -he could carry his purchases home to the comfortless empty house, for all were out ; gloomy and lonely, one was forced to go into the crowd again. The most, distinguished and beautiful ladies up at the windows were gratis, and he fell in love on all sides, in walking past down below, and embraced them, as they did not know him, in the street ; but not one of all these ladies, elevated by storeys or head - dresses, did he select as favourite sultana, but bought his almonds and raisins for the cow-maiden, Augustine. From six to half-past the noise and excitement grew greater under the evening rays, which gilded and beautified ever more and more both themselves and the people ; but then I had to go home, there was no help for it, for our grandfather supped at seven o'clock after the market, and we all assembled then. The supper we will not mention, for Paul tasted little of it —he had already eaten enough — but all the more gladly do I follow him again into the streets after the second grace, where he was as happy as any young soul escaped from a parsonage could be. Pambling about in late twilight or early night in- toxicates and inspires youth. It was at this hour that the Janisary band marched through the principal streets on market days, and the people and children swarmed after them, deafened and deafening ; then for the first time the village boy heard the drums, fifes and cymbals. " In me" — these are his own words, — "who had a ceaseless yearning for the sound of music, it produced a complete music-intoxication, and I heard the world as the drunken man sees it— double and in motion. The fifes made the most impression on me with their high-pitched shrill AUTOBIOGKAPHY. 43 melody. How often have not I tried to recall these tones before falling to sleep, at which time the imagination most easily finds the keys of lost tones, and how happy am I now when I hear them again; as deeply happy as if my old child- hood, like a Tithonns, had become immortal in the tone, and spoke to me through it. Ah the small, faint, invisible tones contain whole worlds for the heart, they are souls for the soul." The notes of the higher octaves, perhaps strike more deeply. Engel affirms that all really har- monious tones lie between the low and the high, but poetical music may be said to lie beyond them. Down in the dark depths of the lowest bass notes slowly vibrates the dead past ; the high pitch of the treble notes, on the other notes, cries out and pierces into the future, or calls to it by the sharpness and confinedness expressed in its tones. Thus in the Eussian field-music, the high sharp whistling of the small fifes sounded almost dreadful ; like a Bothmaus whistle calling to the slaughter, like a cruel preliminary Te Deum of coming bloodshed. I fear people will talk in Germany and elsewhere, because I have reserved the autumn, as the highest Joditz Idyl ; just the autumn which can lead to nothing else but snowy paths. But an imaginative being like Paul enjoys in autumn, not only the season itself, but also in anticipa- tion, the winter with its homeliness, and the spring with its poetical pictures ; while the spring, when it has come, passes immediately into the summer, and the summer is a centre, or halting point of the imagination, too near to the autumn and too far from the spring. Still, to this day he sees in autumn time, through the half-denuded trees, the snowy blossom-mountains far on in the coming year and visits them like a bee searching for honey ; those moun- tains which melt on our approach ; and in the autumn, too, are sketched out and enjoyed those plans for the yet distant spring-journeys and spring-pleasures : in the spring itself the chief part is already over. As the landscape painter prefers the autumn, so does the spiritual painter, the poet, at least in his old age. But our hero had also a special reverse side in his cha- racter, which he turned towards the autumn, and this was that he had always had a singular liking for homely 44 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH FJCHTER. retired life and intellectual nest-making. He is a do- mestic snail, which, loves to withdraw and make itself comfortable in the smallest corners of its dwelling, only he must always have his shell wide open, in order, not to raise his four feelers into the air like four butterfly wings, but to thrust them ten times farther up towards heaven, reaching at any rate with each feeler one of the four satellites of Jupiter. Of this foolish mingled longing for the near and the distant — like a telescope which by a turn magnifies either that which is near or far away — more will occur in our lectures than either I desire or the autumn alone can supply. This domesticity showed itself already in the fancies of the boy ; he thought the swallows happy because they could sit so snugly all night in their walled nests. When he climbed on the roof up to the large pigeon -house, he was quite at home in the room full of little rooms or pigeon holes, and the front was a miniature Louvre or Escurial to him. I fear that I shall hardly be forgiven, if I introduce the following childish triviality into my lecture ; namely, that he made a complete flies' house, a country residence, properly speaking, out of clay. It was about as long and broad as a man's fist, and a little higher, and the whole was painted red, and divided into brick squares with ink ; inside it was provided with two floors, and many stairs, landings, and rooms, and a spacious garret, while outside there were low windows and eaves, and a chimney, covered over at the top with a piece of glass, in order that the flies might not get out — instead of the smoke. Windows were nowhere spared and one might say, that the castle con- sisted more of window than of wall. Now when Paul saw his numberless flies running upstairs and downstairs, into all the large rooms of this vast castle, and into the tiny little windows, he pictured their domestic life to himself, and wished that he could walk with them on the windows, and fancied himself in the position of the in- habitants who, from the largest rooms could betake themselves to the prettiest and tiniest of parlours, and bow-windows. How small and insignificant must the parsonage have appeared to him in comparison In later years, too, as author, he showed in "Vutz, AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 45 Fixlem, and Fibel, this house-and-corner-loving disposi- tion, and still, as man, he looks with longing eyes at every little slate-covered house with two stories and flowers before the windows, and a little garden in front which one can water from the window ; the good domes- tic fool can sit quite contentedly in a close carriage and look round at the side-pockets and say, "A beautiful quiet little fireproof room, this ! and out there are the big villages and gardens driving past." So much is certain, that he could write just as little as he could live in a baron's hall or a St. Peter's Church — to him it would be a market-place covered with a roof, while on the other hand he would be quite capable of living and writing continually on Mont Blanc or iEtna, if the wherewithal was provided for him there ; only the limited and human can never be small enough for him, the greatness of Nature cannot be too much enlarged ; the smallness of man's works is made smaller by enlargement. By what I have now said the Joditz autumn Idyl is pretty well painted. The autumn leads people home- wards, and there leaves them its horn of plenty for the winter's nest, which they build, like the crossbill, who makes her nest and hatches her young in the month of ice. It must be on account of that time that Taul still hears with pleasure the first threshing, or the noisy flocks of crows in the woods, and the calling and signalling of the birds of passage before their departure, as the preludes to a cosy homely winter nesting ; and I am sorry for his sake that in the autumn, when the geese are flying in flocks, he hears them with real pleasure cackling as the foretellers of the winter-time. By this homely and wintery disposition I have always accounted for the unusual enjoyment with which he read all descriptions of travels in wintry countries, as Spitzbergen or Green- land, for the representation on paper merely of distress can scarcely be an explanation of his pleasure, because if it were so, he would have bad the same feelings on reading of the distresses in the hot countries. The well- known pleasure, on the other hand, which one feels over each quarter of an hour by which the days are diminished in autumn may, I think, be attributed more to the liking 46 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. for superlatives — even though they be the antipodes of one another — the liking for what is infinitely great or infinitely small, in short for the Maxima and Minima, and this the more so, as he had just as much pleasure when the days were increasing in length ; then he had no other wish than for long Swedish days. One sees from all with what economy and skill God has armed and equipped man for the path of life, on which there is little to be found either on the right or left, so that however black it may be around him, he can always find some white in it, and with an amphibious instinct for land and water can neither drown nor thirst. It is just these autobiographical features, gentlemen, which a future biographer will easily work up into a life and for which he will perhaps thank me. I know besides of nothing but this home-and-winter-loving disposition which can make intelligible to me why Paid tastes again with so much relish another autumn pleasure, very insipid in itself. In the autumn evenings (the gloomy ones, too), my father, in dressing gown, used to take Paul and Adam to the potato field, lying above the Saale. One youngster carried the hoe and the other a hand basket. When we arrived on the field our father dug up as many new potatoes as were wanted for supper, Paul picking them up and throwing them into the basket, while Adam was allowed to climb the hazel bushes after the nuts. After a little time he had to come down to the potato-bed, and Paul in his turn climbed up. And then they went happily home with potatoes and nuts, — and I will let each one paint for himself as brilliantly as the partaker himself, the joy of a quarter of a mile walk, and an hour's run in the open air, and of the return home and celebration of the harvest festival by candlelight. Two other autumn flowers of joy which have been preserved in the store-room of his memory are still particularly fresh and green, and they are both trees. The one is a thick tall muscatel pear-tree in the parsonage yard, the fall of whose fruit we children endeavoured to hasten all the autumn by artificial means, until at length on the most important day of the season our father himself climbed by a ladder into the forbidden tree, and brought AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 47 down a sweet paradise for the whole house and for the oven. The other tree, always green and always blooming more beautifully still than the former, is, however, smaller than it. It is the felled birch-tree which every year, on St. Andrew's Eve, was dragged trunk first into the room by the old woodcutter, and planted in a large flower-pot in lime-and-water, so that the green leaves might be ready just at Christmas-time, when the golden fruits were hung upon it. This birch-tree (it was no mourning but a rejoicing birch) had the peculiarity that it strewed the dark December road up to Christmas with flowers of joy, namely with the little forceii leaves, each fresh oue of which pointed like a watch-hand to another day left behind ; and that each child could celebrate (under this winter May-tree) its Tabernacle feast of hope. All will willingly exempt me from a description of Paul's Christmas Festival who have met with pictures of it in his works, which I least of anyone am able to surpass. Two additions only may here be made to the picture. When Paul on Christinas morning stood before the lighted tree, and the new world of gold, glitter, and gifts lay in front of him, and he found and received one new and costly present after another, — not a tear — namely, of joy, but a sigh,— namely, over life — was what first arose in him ; in one word the step, or spring, or flight, out of the swelling, sporting, boundless sea of imagination on to the limited, limiting, immoveable shore expressed itself in the boy by a sigh for a larger, more beautiful land. But ere this sigh was breathed forth and the happy reality had asserted its strength, Paul felt that out of gratitude he must show himself happy before his mother, and so put on the appearance ; only for a short time however, for the rays of the breaking morning of reality immediately extinguished and dispersed the moonlight of fancy. Here, too, may be mentioned a peculiarity of my father's which was shown just at the same time. It was this. My father, who took part so joyfully in everything, permitting and giving every pleasure so willingly, came down from his room on Christmas morning into the gaily lighted parlour, as if decked in mourning crape. Our mother assured us of her own ignorance of the cause of this annual 48 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH EICHTEB. melancholy, and no one had the courage to ask. To car mother, too, he left the whole of the trouble and pleasure of decking the table on Christmas Eve, and in this respect perhaps he remained consideiably behind his son Paul, who always helped his wife, — if it was not she who only helped him, — at the children's Christmas play ; for in fact — particularly in their earlier years, when they were more foolish — for many months before the performance of this fairy play, he had acted the False Informer, the Playwriter, and the Scene Painter on the sofa, and at length on the evening had appeared as complete Opera Director and practical Manager — and for each of his three children he had carefully marked off a portion of the table by lights, the presents for the maid being placed on a side table, in fact he had laid out and arranged everything on table and tree so brightly and with such judgment that the whole scene sparkled, as did his own eyes. In spite of this, the father and the father's sadness are to be explained from the son, and in this way ; the latter himself with all his outward activity has had for many years to veil a similar feeling. In both cases it is only a melancholy feeling, tender from church chants and novels, which comes with the cou.narison of the mature autumn of reality with the spring of childhood before one's eyes, in which the blossoms of the ideal grow directly on the stem of the real without the intervention of leaves and branches. The wine and honey of childish joy required then even the ideal, ethereal addition of a belief in the Holy Child who gave them. For as soon as Paul had seen with his own eyes that they were only people, not supernatural beings, who had gathered the flowers and fruits and placed them on the table ; the Eden fragrance and Eden splendour were gone, brushed away, and the every-day flower bed was there. It is too incredible how, like all children, he defended himself against every assaulter of his heavenly faith, and how long he held to his supernatural revelations against all the enlightenment of his increasing years, against all the hints of fortune, until at last he saw and conquered, less than he was conquered. So difficult is it for people of all religions to bring down to humanity those AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 49 who, in their fancied heaven, play the part of beneficent deities to them. Thus far the Joditz Idyls extend ; they lasted long- enough for parents and children, namely, as long as the Trojan War. The expenses for the four sons were in- creasing and the promised school became more and more necessary for them. At times, too, a feeling of dis- satisfaction came over our father that he was exhausting and using up his best years and best strength in such a small village church. At length Barnikel, the pastor ot Schwarzenbach-on-the-Saale, a small city or large market town, died. Death is the real play director and manager of the world. He takes a man like a cipher from the row of figures, from the beginning, the middle or the end, and, lo, the whole row closes up with new positions and values. The living, which was in the gift of the Count von Schonburg-Waldenburg and the Baroness von Plotho by turns, fell this time to Bichter's patroness, who had long and openly looked forward to this opportunity of helping and rewarding the good, cheerful, disinterested, and im- poverished pastor. But he went not more but rather less often to Zedtwitz on this account. To send a written petition or even so much as a verbal request for a pastorship would have stained him as an act of simony, believing orthodoxly as he did that the Holy Ghost alone must call one to a sacred office. And thus the birth-proud patroness had to give way to the firm, poor, and office-proud Blackcoat without request or solicitation. I am letting you into a secret of the Joditz Court — which it has itself long since forgotten — when I relate from the lips of the old pastor that which happened on the day of his appointment. He was as usual shown in at first to the old Herr von Plotho, and he for love and joy could not keep back from my father the news of his good fortune, but told him straight out, and even gave him the presentation, while properly his wife as the real patroness was alone able to do so. Afterwards, when the newly created pastor came to her to present his thanks there was a little ill-temper on the part of the baioness towards her husband which she could not wholly conceal from the Court. Both with similar intention had wished, I. L 50 JEAN PAUL FEIEDRICH EICHTEE. by delivering the presentation personally, to spare their moneyless friend all the various gratuities and douceurs — fatal words for one party concerned — of the messengers. As I know so well your benevolent disposition towards father and son, I would guess that you are now inwardly exclaiming with joy, "Th'i is indeed glorious, that the moon-change of the parsonages at last brings him finer weather, and we now see the glad musician duly leaving the company earlier than usual (he would gladly have talked longer with them out of gratitude) and hurrying home with his bulldog, to tell and share his own delight as soon as possible with all his family, and particularly with his poor wife, who of a truth, has already endured enough in the ear-gleaning and tithe-collecting on the paternal fields." I have nothing to say against this, except that you are all very wide of the mark and I am surprized at your mistake. He brought the glad tidings seriously and sadly not only because on the flower-and-fruit-wreath of good fortune, as on the bridal wreath, a few dew-drops always hang, looking like tears, but also because the departure from his loved and loving parish, which for many years had been his second family in the larger family hall of the church began to shed tears, and lastly, too, because now the quiet, peaceful, sequestered, simple village-life would hang in his memory only as a distant picture. Country-life, like sea-life, is indeed monotonous, without variety of small or great events ; but there is a kind of uniform joy, which strengthens, just as the monotonous sea air strengthens the consumptive patient because there are no dust clouds to inhale, and no insects which torment. I think that I have now so far fulfilled my obligations as my own historical Professor, in all that concerns Joditz, the village of my education, that in my next lecture I may move with my hero and his family to Schwarzenbach-on- the-Saale, where undoubtedly the curtain goes up a few feet higher, and rather more of the chief actor comes in view than merely the child's shoes, as hitherto. For indeed we send him from to-day's lecture into the next, as a human being of upwards of twelve years of age with ten times less knowledge than the five-year-old Christian AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 51 Heinrich Heineke von Liibeck,* whose nurse laid him again to her breast after his examination, — so ignorant of all natural, or geographical, or world history, except of that little part which he himself was — so ignorant of French and music ; in Latin provided with just a little bit of Lange and Speccius — in short, such an empty, trans- parent skeleton or framework, with no nourishment or flesh of learning, that, with you all, I can hardly await the place and time when, in Schwarzenbach-on-the-Saale, he must at length begin to know something, and clothe his skeleton with flesh. With him we now leave that unknown little village ; although it has not, like many another village, put on a laurel crown won in war, yet still, I think, he can give it a high place in his heart and say, even to-day, as if he was just leaving it—" Loved little village, thou art still dear and precious to me. Two little sisters have I left in thy bosom. My father contentedly spent in thee his fairest Sundays; and in the morning of life 1 have seen the radiance of thy meadows. Truly thy well-known in- habitants, whom I will now thank, are long since gone like my father, but for their unknown children and grand- children, my heart's wish is that they may be prosperous and that warfare may pass by them at a distance." * Christian von Schoneich, the tutor and biographer of this prodigy who was born February 6th, 1721, tells us (1726), in his ' Life, Deeds, Journeys, and Death,' that he understood Latin, French, History, Geography, and the Institutions of the lloman Law. that he was well- informed in Theology and Anatomy, was witty and acute in mind, and was nourished entirely by the milk of his nurse. k 2 52 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH EICHTER. THIED LECTUEE (WITH THEEE SUPPLEMENTS). SCHWAR2EXBACH-0N-THE-SAALE KISS — RECTOR lord's SUPPER. Would you believe, my friends, that Paul retained nothing in his memory of all the packing-up, moving, and leaving ; no parting either of parents or children ; no object on the two-miles journey, excepting only the above-mentioned tailor's son, to whose pocket he intrusted his six drawings of the kings for his beloved ? But so it is in childhood and boyhood ; the most trivial is retained, the most important forgotten ; one knows not why, in either case. Childhood, too, ever restless and impatient, remembers the departure less tnan the arrival ; a child leaves ten times more easily the long-accustomed surroundings than the more recent ones ; only in manhood does the exact opposite become the case. For children there are no partings, for they acknowledge no past, but only a present filled with the future. Schwarzenbach-on-the-Saale was indeed in the pos- session of many things. A pastor and a curate ; a rector and a cantor; and a parsonage with many little rooms and two big ones. Opposite were two large bridges and the accompanying Saale, and close by was the schoolhouse, as big as (if not bigger than) the whole Joditz parsonage, and among the houses was also a townhall — not to mention the large empty castle. A new rector entered on his office just at the same time as my father ; Werner from Merseburg, a handsome man with broad brow and high nose ; full of fire, and with much feeling ; of overwhelming natural eloquence, replete with questions, allegories and harangues, like Father Abraham, but quite without depth either in languages or other branches of knowledge. He helped out the poverty of this reverse side, however, by a heart full of enthusiasm and zeal ; his tongue was the lever of our childish mindei AtTOBIOGRAPHY. 53 His plan of teaching was to let one learn from the grammar only the most necessary forms of inflexion — by this he understood only the declensions and conjugations — and then to spring at once to the reading of some author. Paul had to make the spring at once, far over Lange's 1 Colloquia,' into ' Cornelius ' and it was successful. The schoolroom, or much more the school-ark, contained A, B, C students, young spellers, Latin learners, big and little girls — who sat in tiers from the floor up to the wall, as if on the shelves of a greenhouse or in an old Roman theatre — and the rector and cantor, together with all the ace >mpanying crying, buzzing, reading and whipping, The Latin learners formed, as it were, a school within the school. Soon after Latin, the Greek grammar also was commenced, by learning the declensions and the most necessary verbs, and then without further delay we were translated to the translation of the New Testament. Werner, who often in the warmth of speaking praised himself so much that he was astonished at his own great- ness, thought this faulty method of his was original, but in reality it was only that of Basedow. Paul's winged progress was a fresh proof to him of its success. About a year later a few declensions and verbs from Ddnze's Hebrew Grammar, written in Latin, were put together to form a boat-bridge to the First Book of Moses, the be- ginning of which — just the exegesis threshold of young Hebraists — was not permitted to be read by the un- cultivated Jews. 1 will immediately proceed chronologically with the life of our hero when I have cast a cursory view forward, just for one moment, and have shown you how much he suddenly could and had to do. I will then become statary again immediately. He had to translate the Greek and Hebrew Testaments viva voce into Latin like a Vulgate maker. During his translation lesson (he was the only Hebrew scholar in the school), the rector had a printed translation lying by his side. When our hero was not successful in the analysis of the words, a second misfortune often occurred, namely, the master was no better oft'. 54 JEAN PAUL FEIEDKICK EICHTER. The present writer of novels was regularly in love with the Hebrew grammatical and analytical trash and trifling — this too was in reality a secret indication of his love of domesticity — and borrowed Hebrew grammars from all corners of Schwarzenbach, in order to hoard up all the in- formation on diacritical points, vowels, accents, and so on, which could be served up in the analysis of each single word. Then he sewed himself a quarto book together, and began in it with the first word of the first verse of the First Book of Moses, and wrote several pages of such copious information from all the borrowed grammars about its few letters, its vowels and the first Dagesh and Sheva, that at the first words "In the beginning," (he intended to continue thus from chapter to chapter), he also made an end, unless indeed it was with the next. What has been written (in the first Letter-box), about Quintus Fixlein's chase in a folio Hebrew Bible after larger, smaller, and reversed letters applies literally in all par- ticulars to Paul's own life. In just as droll a fashion he treated the now superan- nuated Hofmann, who. with the German translation sen- tences or Latin-rule examples was a great cross Speccius for the scholars, by winding his way like a screw, — the man going deeper and deeper into Syntaxis Ornata, — into such endless participial straits that the good rector had to think more about understanding than correcting him. Immediately after coming to Schwarzenbach- — I am still in the cursory — I had pianoforte lessons from Gressel the Cantor ; and here, too, when he had learnt a few dance tunes and the usual choral chords and General Bass nota- tion, — would God but give the poor boy for once a thorough teacher, is my wish, however little prospect there appears to be anywhere of that, — he fell into his self-absolution from instruction, into extemporizing on the piano and collecting and playing off all the pieces which were to be found anywhere in the place. Thorough bass, the grammar of music, he acquired by continual extemporizing and jnaying from sight, in much the same way as we acquire the German grammar by talking. At this time, too, he applied himself to the reading of German literature, but as there was none other to be had AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 55 in Schwarzenbach than the romantic type, and of this only the worthless novels of the first half of the last century, he built himself a small Babylonian tower out of these bricks, chough he could only extract from it one brick at a time to read. But of all histories standing on book- shelves, not one — for Schiller's ' Armenians ' later produced only half the impression — poured such oil of joy and nectar through all the veins of his being, — even to bodily ecstacy — as old ' Robinson Crusoe ;' he still remembers hour and spot, (it was evening, by the window, looking on to the bridge) when the ecstasy occurred; and only after some time did a second novel, ' Veit Rosenstock,' by Otto — read and forbidden by my father — repeat the half of this enthusiasm. Only as plagiarist and book-thief did he enjoy it from his father's study so long as his father was not there — once he read it lying on his stomach in the empty gallery during one of his father's week-day sermons. I little envy children now-a-days, to whom the first im- pression of the childlike and childish Robinson is denied and compensated for by the modern remodellers of the man, who metamorphose the quiet island into a lecture room or a worn-out snipe valley, and send the shipwrecked Robinson about with a precept book in his hand and their own dictata in his mouth, that in every nook he may found a private academy for the young, although he has so much to do for himself that it is only with the greatest difficulty that he can keep his own life. At this time, that is, just after this, the young curate Volkel begged the lad's father to let him come for two hours every day after dinner in order to instil into him a little of all sorts from philosophy and geography. By what means I, with my village awkwardness, became of such value to him, who was not fired with any particular pedagogic talent, that he sacrificed his napping hour for me, I do not know. In philosophy, he read, or more properly I read to him, that of Gottsched, which, with all its dryness and barren- ness, refreshed me like fresh water with its novelty. Then he showed me a number of towns and frontiers on a map — of Germany I believe ; but how much of this I retained I do not know, and search in vain for it in my 56 JEAN PATJL FRIEDRICH KICHTER. memory to this day ; I dare aver — what of a truth sounds Btrong — that I, of all living authors am perhaps the one who knows the least about geographical maps. An atlas of maps would hear for me a hell instead of the mytholo- gical heaven, if 1 had to carry them in my head. Whatever of the geography of towns and countries may by chance remain hanging in it (the head) is the little which has flown against it on the way, on the geographical instruc- tion courses, which, to express myself in good high-school German, partly the post-chaises staterically, and partly the Hauderer (coachman) cursorily, have taken with me. All the more do I thank the good curate for his instruc- tion in German composition, which consisted of nothing but instruction in so-called theology. He set me for instance to give the evidence without a Bible, of the existence of a God or a Providence, &c. To do this I received an octavo sheet, on which were written the proofs and suggestions taken from INosselt, ' Jerusalem,' and others, in incomplete sentences, even in single words separated by clashes. The disguised suggestions were then explained to me, and from this leaf, in accordance with Goethe's botanical theory, were my leaves developed. I began each composition with warmth, and finished it in a glow, for at the end there came always the end of the world, of life, the joys of heaven, and all that super- abundance which bursts from the young vine-shoots in the warmth of spring, and which only in autumn attains any intellectual value. To whom belong the praise and merit that these writing hours were not hours of toil, but of pleasure and freedom, if not to him who chose the right blossoming and fruit-bearing themes? For, let anyone consider a moment and compare these suggestive and satisfying exercises with those ordinarily set by school- masters, which are so wide and undefined, so uncongenial to the young heart, or which reach so far beyond the sphere of youthful life — in jest I should like to give you a thousand in a note * — that I wish seriously that some man with * Out of such universal, cold, empty subjects, demanding everything and nothing,— for example, " Praise of industry," " Importance of Youth," the richest, maturest head could hardly hatch anything living. Other subjects again, too broad, as " Comparison of the Heroes of AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 57 leisure and a knowledge of youth would sit himself down, in spite of all the beautiful thoughts and elaborations which he might otherwise produce, and would write nothing for the present but a small volume of prize subjects, arranged after the pattern of the innumerable dissertations on the Sunday texts, for teachers, whose so]e work would be to choose among them those which they would give to their pupils. Better perhaps than all subjects are none at all. Let the youth choose each time that subject, as a mistress, for which his heart is warm and full, and with which alone he is able to create that which has life. Leave the young spirit free with a few hours and a few sheets of paper — which maturer writers require too — that he may freely give forth his tones undisturbed by your hand, otherwise he is a bell standing firmly on the ground and unable to sound until hung freely in the air. But men are thus throughout all offices up from the lowest ; they find the greater glory in making servile machines out of free spirits, thus showing their creating, governing, and producing powers ; they think to give proof of this, if they are able to bring into the same track and couple on to the intellectual machine next above them an intermediate midway machine, and to the intermediate one to couple another, until at length there appears a mother Marion- ette leading a Marionette daughter, who again in her turn is able to carry a poodle — all is only a coupling together by the same machine master — God ; the free will only rear the free ; the devil, the unfree, will rear only his like. I would not exchange my weekly exercises for any of those of the present time, how much soever these may enlighten the world, particularly as the subjects opened the lists to my philosophizing tendency and let it have its run out ; a tendency which had already sought to overflow from my small head into a thin octavo booklet in which Antiquity," "Weighing of the Old Forms of Religion," are ostrich- eggs on which the pupil with t;>o short wings sits and broods in vain, making nune warm but himself. Between these two kinds are the better one-, rich in sensuous and historical material, such as " Descrip- tion of a Conflagration, of the Last Day, of the Deluge ; Proof of ita Nun-universality." 5S JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. Seeing and Hearing endeavoured and thought to give a logical account of themselves, and of which 1 related a part to my father, who blamed and misunderstood me jxist as little as I did myself. Can one, then, repeat too often to the teacher of youth — very often must I have said it already — that all hearing and reading does not strengthen and stimulate the spirit half so much as writing and speaking, because the former, like conception in the female, exercises only the receptive faculties, while the latter like begetting in the male, demands and brings into action the creative powers. Do not the translators of the most learned and pithy writers, — for example, Ebert, the trans- lator of Young, — keep on all their lives writing their pre- faces, notes and poems with inborn washiness, when one might have expected a little improvement, since of all reading translating is the most repeated as well as the most accurate and penetrating, and thus the translator of a work of merit enjoys it more and gets at the kernel better than any other reader. Beading is like collecting for the school money-box or the poor-bag ; writing is the founding of a mint, the stamping die enriches one more than the bell-bag. Writing, like a Socratic midwifery which one practises on oneself, is to reading as speaking is to hearing. In England and among people of the court and world, talking is a means of education, and helps out the paucity of the reading. Finally I staked these lessons with the curate on a gaaae at chess and lost, because— we did not play. To explain ; the curate would sometimes conclude the lesson in geo- graphy with one in chess, still to this day my favourite game, though in it and all games I have remained the beginner that I was when I first made my debut. Once I went to my lesson in spite of a headache, because a game at chess had been promised, and as, through forgetfulness, the game never came, so I also never came again. That my father silently allowed this desertion of mine unoc- casioned by one single word, is more difficult of compre- hension to me than the other natural circumstance that I was a fool and fled from the curate at the same time that I continued to love him. 1 was still very pleased to act AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 50 the little foot-messenger between him and my father, and with glances of love and joyfully beating pulses would see him turn into our house after almost all the baptisms (for this reason the baptism bell tolled a joyous mass on my ears) to chat away a half or the whole of the evening while I read or worked at the table ; but, as I have said, I had got the chessboard in my head, and kept away. Heavens ! who is it that gathers into the best honey cells of mine and of many another poetical and feminine nature such a summer honey (if not honey vinegar) of love and ill- will, such a conflicting mish-mash, which often poisons and cankers the most beautiful days, yes, and the most beau- tiful hearts, perhaps ? Truly, could one often but add an additional half grain of brain-aether or reason to the warmest hearts, I should know of nothing better than the hottest love, but, as it is, the sweetness congeals to bitter lees and its own reverse. Kiss. As I lost my heart before in a churcn pew, so now I could not do otherwise than fall in love up the raised school benches — for she sat quite up at the top, Katherine Barin — with her dainty, round, red, little, small-pox- marked face and sparkling eyes, and the pretty haste with which she spoke and ran off. At the school carnival, which occupied the whole of the forenoon of Shrove Tuesday, and consisted in dancing and playing, I had the pleasure of dancing the irregular hop- dance and thus, as it were, of practising and dancing beforehand the regular dance. Yes, too, at the game of " How do you like your neighbour?" where, on a favourable answer one is ordered to kiss, and on an unfavourable one to run off, amid accollades from the knotted handkerchief, and make place for others, I carried off plenty of the latter ; a gold- beating, by which my love, like pure gold, increased, and an entertaining variety always prevailed, as she invariably forbad me the court, and I always called her to it. All these malicious desertions (desertiones malitiosce) could not deprive me of the bliss of seeing her every day, as, with little white apron and cap, she ran over the long bridge towards the parsonage, where I was at the window 60 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. looking out. To catch her and not so much to say as to give to her something sweet, a mouthful of truit for example, this, as far as I know I was never- able to do, let me run as quickly as I would through the yard and down the few steps to receive her in her flight past. But I enjoyed enough in being able to love her on the bridge from the window, which, I think, was near enough for me who usually stood with heart and mouth behind long seeing- and hearing-trumpets. Distance is less harmful to true love than proximity ; if I had got a sight of Venus in the planet Venus, 1 should have loved the heavenly being ardently, particularly as at such a distance she would be very bewitching with her charms, and I would have chosen it without hesitation to be revered as my morning and evening star. I now have the pleasure of freeing from their error all those who expect a mere repetition of the Joditz love affair in the Schwarzenbach one ; and of announcing to them that 1 brought it to something. One winter evening when I had already provided my princess-tax of sweet gifts, which usually lacked only the recipient, the pastor's son, who was the worst boy among all my school companions, persuaded me to a forbidden deed of daring. While a call from the curate occupied my father, I left the parson- age in the dark, crossed the bridge (which I had never dared before) went straight up to the house where the beloved one lived with her poor mother in a little corner- room, and there made my way into a kind of tap-room down below. Whether Katherine was down there by chance and was going upstairs again, or whether the rogue with his officious planning had enticed her half-way down under some pretence or other, in short, how it happened that I found her on the stairs, has all become a dreamy recollection to me, for a Present, which flashes forth suddenly, renders dim in the memory all that has preceded it. Hurriedly as a thief, I first gave her my food-presents, and then I, who never in Joditz could come to the heaven of a first kiss, and never dared to touch the beloved hand, for the first time pressed a long-loved being to my heart and lips. I know not what more to say ; it was a single pearly minute, which had never been before, AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 61 and never came again ; a whole longing past and a future dream were compressed into one moment : and in the darkness behind my closed eyes the firework of life was displayed for one moment and then was gone. Like a clairvoyant, I return from heaven back again to earth, remarking only that the Euprecht followed, since he had not preceded, this second Christmas festivity, for on my way home, I already found the messenger, and was soundly scolded when I got there for running out. Such a hailstorm and dross-stream fall usually with the hot silver beams of the sun of happiness. What did it matter to me ? The stream of words could not mar my paradise, for does it not bloom to this very day, even to this pen and forth from it ? It was, as I have said, the first kiss, and at the same time, I believe, the last, unless, — for she still lives, — I purposely make a journey to Schwarzenbach and give her a second. As usual, I contented myself throughout my Schwarzenbach life with my telegraphic love, which, too, had to sustain and reply to itself without an answering telegraph. But truly none blames the good maiden less than I do that she then kept silence and does so still — after her husband's death ; for in later life I have always had to find my way slowly to the unknown heart and its love ; it was of no use that I immediately stood there with ready face and exterior ; afterwards I always had to underlay these bodily charms with the intellectual for them sufficiently to glitter, dazzle, and kindle the fire. But this was just the defect in my innocent love time, that, without intercourse with the loved one, without conversation or prelude, I suddenly, with barren exterior, showed the whole of my love bursting forth, in short, that I stood before her like the Judas-tree which produces its blossoms without the intervention of branches and leaves. 62 JEAN TAUL FKIEDRICH KICHTER. Joke with the Eector. As the Joke-playing Society* knew that the rector read the newspaper in school, and introduced the current events in his school sermons, they sent him an old number of the Erlanger Bealzeitung, which he took in, containing an account of the horrors of the terrible famine in Italy, particularly in Naples. The date they had covered up well enough by dropping an ink blot on it. All heard into their rooms how, inflamed by the Fidibus paperf (scarcely could he await the withdrawal of the organist), he burst forth with his exposition, and how vividly he brought before the eyes of the Schwar- zenbach youth in fire colours — the Erlanger writer gave only the water colours — the begging, shrieking, fainting, and starving in all the streets, until it became doubtful whether they would return home with more burning tears or hunger. And in reality in such descriptions one hardly believes that there is still anything left to eat on the .earth. Each one may imagine for himself under what kind of triumphal gates (or on what triumphal beds) the good herald of hunger was taken that evening by the Joke-playing Society for his touching and warning words, when they bad seen the children and questioned them about it. I can give no account, for I heard only dimly and some time afterwards of the recall of the paper. Good, well-meaning old rector ! be not much ashamed or angry with birds of joke or prey, who wish to pounco down on your pulpit-doves! The holy dove had still hovered and brooded over our hearts with warm wings. For the warmed heart it is just the same whether it has trembled with the pulses of compassion for a near or a distant famine. * This society consisted of the friends of the rector who permitted such jokes between themselves a3 the one here related. f Properly a small strip of paper used for lighting cigars, &n. AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 63 The Lord's Supper. The Lord's Supper is considered in the country, or more properly among good Christians, not merely as a Christian moral toga virilis ; not as in towns amongst girls, less as the putting on the nun's clothing, than the young lady's ; but it is the highest and first spiritual act, the entrance on citizenship in God's city. It is only now that the former water-baptism becomes a real fire-baptism, the first sacrament rises again in the second glorified and more living. The children of a pastor, who have been eye- and ear-witnesses of the preparation of others so often for this Sunday approach it with the greater reverence. This reverence rose still higher in me on account of the post- ponement of the ceremony for a year, as my father did not consider that the legal age of twelve years had com- pletely elapsed by the 21st of March. Add now to these days of religious warmth, a fire- preacher, as was our rector, who presented to our souls the awful conditions peculiar to this religious act, that the unrepentant who partakes of the sacrament, like a perjurer, eats his Hell instead of Heaven, and that when a Eedeemer and Saint enters into the impure sinner, the saving power of his presence must be turned into a poisoning power. Warm tears, which he, too, shed with us, were the least which his heartfelt words drew forth from myself and the rest ; burning repentance for the past and passionate vows for a blameless future filled our breasts and continued their work there after he had ceased to speak. How often did I go to the garret before the Confession Saturday, and kneel down to repent and atone. And how sweet it was on the Confession day itself to ask forgiveness with stammering lips and over- flowing heart for one's faults from all the dear ones, parents, and teachers, and thus to atone for them and absolve oneself. On this evening there came, too, a mild, light, clear heaven of peace over my soul, an unutterable never-returning blessedness in feeling myself quite clean, purified and freed from sin ; in having made with God and man a joyful 64: JEAN PAUL FEIEDRICH EICHTEE. far-reaching peace, and still, from these evening hours of mild and warm soul-rest, I looked onward to the heavenly enthusiasm and rapture at the altar next morning. O blessed time ! when one has stripped off the unclean past, and stands pure and white, free and fresh in the present, and thus steps forth courageously into the future. But to whom but children can this time return ? In the happy time of childhood this complete peace of soul is more easy to gain, because the circle of sacrifices which it demands is smaller and the sacrifices themselves less im- portant, while the complicated and widened circumstances of later years, either through deficiencies or delay in complete resignation, admit the heavenly rainbow of peace only incomplete and not rounded to a perfect circle, as in the time of youth. In the twelfth year enthusiasm can render one perfectly pure, but not so in age. The youth, too, and the maiden with all their fiery impulses have less to overcome in their circle, and have an easier and shorter way to the highest moral purity, than that which the man or woman have to traverse with their colder and more selfish strivings, through the wilderness of troubles, cares, and toils. The true man is, at some period in his earliest time, a diamond of the first water, crystal clear, and without colour, then he becomes one of second quality and glitters with many colours, until at last he darkens into a coloured stone. On Sunday morning the boys and girls, adorned for the sacrificial altar, met at the parsonage for the solemn entrance into the church amid singing and bell-ringing. All this, together with the festive attire and the nosegays, and the darkened fragrant birch- trees, both at home and in the church, became for the young soul a powerful breeze in its outspread wings, which were already raised and in motion. Even during the long sermon the heart expanded with its fire, and inward struggles were carried on against all thoughts which were worldly or not sufficiently holy. At length I received the bread from my father and the cup from my purely loved teacher, but the ceremony did not receive any additional value from the thought of what these two were to me ; my heart and mind and soul AUTOBIOGEAPHY 05 were devoted alone to heaven, to happiness, and to the re- ception of the Most Holy, which was to unite itself with my being, and my rapture rose to a physical lightning- feeling of miraculous union. I thus left the altar with a clear blue infinite heaven in my heart ; this heaven revealed itself to me by an un- limited, stainless tender love which I now felt for all, all mankind. To this day I have preserved within my heart with loving and youthful freshness the remembrance of the happiness when I looked on the church members with love, and took them all to my innermost heart. The maiden companions at the holy altar with their bridal wreaths became not only dearer, but also more holv, to me as the brides of Christ, and I included them all in such a wide, pure love, that even my beloved Katharina as far as I can remember was not otherwise loved than the rest. The whole earth remained for me throughout the day an unlimited love-repast, and the whole tissue and web of life appeared to me to be an iEolian or setherial harp played by the breath of love. When even the misanthrope can extract an artificial delight from his universal dislike, of what indescribably sweet happiness must be a universal love for all hearts in the beautiful time of youth, untram- melled and untainted by circumstances, the horizon of which is still limited, the arms short but the ardour so much the more intense. And shall we not allow ourselves the joy of dreaming out the dream of this overflowing heaven, which would receive us if, in a higher and hotter focus of a second youth, we should grasp a larger spiritual world, loving with higher poAver, and should widen the heart from life to life for the All. But in inconstant man all else remains more easily on the surface than the purest and the best, as in quicksilver all metals remain at the top — the gold alone sinks. Life, like the sun (according to Goethe), admits no white. After a few days this precious consciousness of innocence deserted me, for I thought that I had sinned in throwing a stone and wrestling with a schoolfellow, though I did neither out of ill-feeling, but in harmless love of play. But eternal thanks are due for ever to the all-kind spirit. Every holiday is followed by working days, but we go I " F 66 JEAN PAUL FEIEDEICH EICHTER. into them newly-clad, and the past holiday leads us on over them to a fresh one. This spring festivity of the heari, returned later in the years of youth, but only as a quiet, serene sabbath, when for the first time the great old stoical spirits of Plutarch, Epictetus, and Antoninus arose and appeared before me, and freed me from all the pains of this earth and all anger; but from this oneSabbaih I hope I have gathered together a whole year of Sabbaths, or am able to make up that which may still be wanting. LEVANA; OK, THE DOCTRINE OF EDUCATION. F 2 TO HER MAJESTY), CAROLINE, QUEEN OF BAVARIA, WITH THE PROFOUNDEST RESPECT OF THE AUTHOR. Most Gracious Queen ! The author would consecrate Lev an a to mothers by your royal name— as the banners which a princess has worked receive fresh victorious power. Your Majesty will graciously pardon the dedication of a work which Germany, by the approbation expressed in the demand for a new, improved edition, has already dedicated to a Princess, who, in its best parts, will but find her own recollections. If, even in the lowest ranks, a mother's heart 1 »e woman's honour, — the sun which gently warms and dries the dewdrops of early tears, — this sun delights the beholder most when it stands highest and cherishes the distant future, and when a noble mother multiplies her heart as well as her beauty, and blesses distant ages and countries with her image. 70 JEAN PAUL FRIEDKICH EICHTER. This delight becomes still greater if the mother be also the mother of her country, and raise her sceptre like a magic wand which converts tears of sorrow into tears of joy ere it dries them. Should the profound respect of a subject forbid him to express this joy in a dedication ? With most profound respect, Your Majesty's Most obedient, humble servant, Jean Paul i'n. Eichter. AUTHOR'S PREFACE. NoVERRt only required from a good director of the ballet — besides the art of dancing — geometry, music, poetry, painting, and anatomy. But to write upon education, means to write upon almost everything at once ; for it has to care for and watch over the development of an entire, though miniature, world in little — a microcosm of the microcosm. All the energies with which nations have laboured and signalized themselves once existed as germs in the hand of the educator. If we carried the subject, still farther every century, every nation, and even every boy and every girl, would require a distinct system of education, a diiferent primer, and domestic French governess, &c. If, consequently, on a subject like this, only acta sanctorum, or more correctly, sanctificandorum (acts less of saints than of those to be made saints) can be written, and if a folio be nothing more than a fragment, there cannot be, on such an inexhaustible subject, one book too much, even after the best, except the worst ; and where frag- ments alone are possible, all that are possible complete the whole. The Author trusts thus to excuse his boldness as well as his poverty ; for both, as in the state, are nearly connected. He has not read every thing which has been written upon education, but here and there something. First and last he names Rousseau's Emile. No preceding work can be compared with his ; the succeeding imitators and transcribers seem to resemble him more. Not Rous- seau's individual rules, many of which may be erroneous without injury to the whole, but the spirit of education which fills and animates the work has shaken to their foundations and purified all the school-rooms and even the 72 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [PREFACE, nurseries in Europe. In no previous work on education was the ideal so richly and beautifully combined with actual observation as in his. He was a man, could therefore easily become a child, and so he manifested and saved the nature of children. Basedow was his intelligent translator and publisher in Germany — this land of peda- gogopajdists (of education of children's educators) and of love ot children — and Pestalozzi is now confirming Rousseau among the people. Individual rules, without the spirit of education, resemble a dictionary without a grammar of the language. A book of rules is not merely incapable of exhausting and distinguishing the infinite variety of individual dis- positions and circumstances ; but, even granting it were perfect itself and able to make others perfect, it yet would but be like a system of remedies labouring to counteract some one symptom of a disease ; recommending, for instance, something of a reducing nature to be taken before faint- ing, and to prevent tingling in the ears and unnatural brilliancy of eye ; a tonic to cure paleness and coldness of the face ; an aperient for nausea. But this is worthless ' Do not, like common cultivators, water the individual branches, but the roots, and they will moisten and unfold the rest. Wisdom and morality are no ants' colonies of separate, co-operating workmen, but organic parents of the mental future which only require life-giving nourishment. We merely reverse the ignorance of the savages, who sowed gunpowder instead of making it, when we attempt to compound what can only be developed. But although the spirit of education, always watching over the whole, is nothing more than an endeavour tc liberate, by means of a free man, the ideal human being which lies concealed in every child ; and though, in the application of the divine to the child's nature, it must scorn some useful things, some seasonable, individual, or immediate ends ; yet it must incorporate itself in the most definite applications, in order to be clearly mani- fested. Here the Author differs — but to his philosophical dis- advantage — from those transcendental superintendents of the school-room slates, who write thereon with so round FIRST ED.] LEVANA. 73 a piece of chalk that one may find in their broad strokes whatever one desires, and who lay down a complete Brownian system of education in the two words — strong, weak ; though, indeed, Brown's disciple, Schmidt, only uttered one word — strong. Dr. Tamponet declared that he would trace heresies in the Lord's Prayer, if any one desired it ; our age, on the contrary, knows how to find a Lord's Prayer in every heresy. A mother who has a particular child to educate can certainly extract no advan- tage from such philosophical indifferentism; although that class of fine, high-sounding compilations always bears witness to a certain amount of artistic talent in their sonorousness and their theft; hence, Gall justly found for this sense a place between the organs of music and stealing. But this language does not belong to the Preface, and the object of this work has forbidden it to find a place in the book itself; wherefore, this may be regarded in form as my most serious production, to which only a short, occasional, comic Appendix shall be added. The reader will please to take it patiently if he find what has been already printed again printed here. What has been printed is necessary as the bond and bast-matting of what has not been printed ; but the bast-matting must not cover the whole garden instead of merely tying up the trees. But there are two still better excuses. Known rules in education gain new force if new experience verify them. The Author has three times been in the position of trying them upon different children of all ages and talents ; and he now enjoys with his own the pedagogic jus trium liber orum (law of three children) ; and every other person's experience, related in this book, has been made his own. Secondly, printing ink now is like sympathetic ink, it becomes as quickly invisible as visible ; wherefore it is good to repeat old thoughts in the newest books, because the old works in which they stand are net read. New translations of many truths, as of foreign standard works, must be given forth every half century. And, indeed, I wish that even old German standard books were turned into new German from time to time, and so could find their way into the circulating libraries. 74 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [PREFACE, Why are there flower and weed gleanings of every thing, but no wine or corn gleanings of the innumerable works on education? Why should one single good observation or rule be lost because it is imprisoned in some monstrous folio, or blown away in some single sheet? For dwarfs and giants, even in books, do not live long. Our age, this balloon, or air-ship, which, by simultaneous lighting of new lamps and throwing out of old ballast, has constantly mounted higher and higher, might now, I should think, cease to throw out and rather lovingly endeavour to collect than to disperse the old. Ho"« ever little so disjointed a collection of thoughts could teach rules, it would yet arouse and sharpen the educational serise from which they originally sprung. Therefore every mother — still better every bride — ought to read the many-volumed and, in another sense, many- sided revision of education to which no nation can oppose any thing similar ; she should read it, and cut and polish herself, like a precious stone, by it on every side, so that her individuality of character may all the more readily discover, protect, revere and cherish the dim manifesta* tions of it in her child. Something very different from such a progressive cabinet of noble thoughts, or even from my weak Levana, with her fragments in her arms, is the usual kind of com- plete system of education which one person after another has written, and will write. It is difficult — I mean the end, not the means. For it is very easy to proceed with bookbinder's and bookmaker's paste, and fasten together a thousand selected thoughts with five of your own, espe- cially if you conscientiously remark in the preface that you have availed yourself of the labours of your prede- cessors, yet make no mention of one in the work itself, but sell such a miniature library in one volume to the reader as a mental facsimile of yourself. How much better in this case were a hole-maker than a hole-hider I How much better were it if associated authors (I mean those friendly hundreds who move along one path uttering precisely the same sound) entirely died out, — as Humboldt tells us that in the tropical regions there are none of those sociable plants which make our forests monotonous, but FIRST ED.] LKVANA, 75 next each tree a perfectly different one grows. A diary about an ordinary child would be much better than a book upon children by an ordinary writer. Yes, every man's opinions about education would be valuable if he only wrote what he did not copy. The author, unlike a partner, ^nould always only say " I," and no other word. The first part of this work treats at large of the budding, the second and third of the blossoming, season of childhood. In the first, the three early years, like the academic triennium, after which the gate of the soul, language, is opened, are the object of care and observation. Here, educators are the Hours who open or close the gates of heaven. Here, true education, the developing, is yet possible ; by whose means the long second, the curative, may be spared. For the child — yet in native innocence, before his parents have become his serpents on the tree — speechless, still unsusceptible of verbal empoisonment — led by customs, not by words and reasons, therefore all the more easily moved on the narrow and small pinnacle of sensuous experience ; — for the child, I say, on this boundary line between the monkey and the man, the most important era of life is contained in the years which immediately follow his non-existence, in which, for the first time, he colours and moulds himself by companionship with others. The parent's hand may cover and shelter the germinating seed, but not the luxuriant tree; con- sequently, first faults are the greatest; and mental maladies, unlike the small-pox, are the more dangerous the earlier they are taken. Every new educator effects less than his predecessor ; until at last, if we regard all life as an educational institution, a circumnavigator of the world is less influenced by all tha nations he has seen than by his nurse. At least this book has been composed with warmest love for the little beings, the delicate flower-gods of a soon fading Eden. May Levana, the motherly goddess who was formerly entreated to give a father's heart to fathers, hear the prayer which the title of this book addresses to her, and, in doing so, justify both it and this. The demands of the state or of learning, unfortunately, rob the child of half its father. The education of mos - * 76 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICtfTER. [PREFACE, fathers is but a system of rules to keep the child at a respectful distance from them, and to form him more with regard to their quiet than Ms powers ; or at most, under a tornado of wrath, to impart as much meal of instruction as he can scatter. But I would ask men of business what education of souls rewards more delight- fully and more immediately than that of the innocent, who resemble rosewood which imparts its odour even while being carved and shaped ? Or what now remains to the decaying world — among so many ruins of what is noblest and ancientest — except children, the pure beings yet unfalsified by the age and the world ? Only they, with a higher object than that for which they were formerly used, can behold futurity and truth in the magic mirror, and with bandaged eyes draw the precious lot from the wheel of chance. The words that the father speaks to his children in the privacy of home are not heard by the world ; but, as in whispering galleries, they are clearly heard at the end and by posterity. It would be my greatest reward if, at the end of twenty years, some reader as many years old should return thanks to me that the book which he is then reading was read by his parents. Jean Paul Fb. Kichter. Baibeuth, Muv2, 1806. SECOND ED.J ( 77 ) AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION. The second edition of a work on education is presented with love and respect to readers of both sexes : for the complete sale of the first is regarded as a proof that whilst the warlike Vesuvius and Etna were playing fire and thunder against each other, yet still the German fatherly and motherly heart was sufficiently endued with peace- fulness, solicitude and love to attend to the mental re- quirements of the child-world, even in like manner as the parents take these children in their arms when saving them as best may be from flames and water. May only Levana be right worthy of this participation in parental love ! This edition includes — besides small corrections, and besides the large local interpolations of certain contri- butions in education scattered throughout two journals, and also others not printed — many more exact conclusions to which I found myself urged by the opinion of one or another friendly critic, more especially those of Jena and Halle. For perhaps no reproof is more to be considered than that of the well-disposed and like-minded : the ap- probation of enemies is nothing to it in point of weight, since it may just as often be a snare as a safeguard ; and before a friendly critic, too, one wishes to defend neither the yes nor no of one's self, but only the matter itself. To only one critical reviewer have I nothing to say, because he himself has said nothing : although this ex- pression would do him too much honour, had ho not interspersed his criticisms amongst the literary news of Gottingen, of which such as is scholarly continues to preserve its reputation for thoroughness, no less than that 78 JEAN PAUL FEIEDRICH RICHTER. [p DEFACE, which is aesthetic and philosophical has continued to furnish the successive instalments of the " Kicolai- Library " * (which after long lullings has now sunk into slumber) so artfully that a limited intellect may already have had enough of these universal German- library filibusters. For the rest, the author of this gains in maturity less through other writers than through his own children. Life enlivens life, and children train us into trainers better than all trainers. Long before the first Levana, children (that is, experiences) were in fact his teachers, and books occasionally his " reminders." Yet experiences, since they can never be gained in sufficient number to amount to the strength of universal demonstration, can express anything only through a disposition of mind which imputes to them, from out of itself, and leai-ns from them what is spiritual and universal. Hence educational writings, on account of the inexhaustible number of rules and the difficulty of choosing between them in each case, can only successfully and practically help by means of the stimulus and fostering of parental love and by a peculiar strength : all real strength, be it of the heart or head, can, if accompanied with love for children, educate with success even at the distance of ordinary methods. The large number and sale of writings on education is explained from the circumstance that of all vocations that of education is most thickly beset with followers : amongst them all are both sexes at once, parents, yes, even those who have never been parents; so that consequently the instructor writes, not for one case, like one learned in theology, law or such- like, but for all cases of all people. But we Germans especially, partly from abundance of philanthropy, partly from want of money, partly from want of members mutually assisting, do spiritually lor children by writing on paper that which the hospital for children in Paris, les en/ants malades, and the " Club-of- Help " in Madrid try to do physically for the vagabond * Nicolai was a publisher and second-rate writer of Berlin. The " Library " was a periodical which contiuued to appear during a of twenty-seven years. — Tb. SECOND ED.] LEVANA. 79 children of the streets — we wish to cure and teach their souls. The author allows himself only to mention four im- portant works on education which he has read since the publication of his own. The teaching of the general apart from the particular is, just as much as the teaching of the particular apart from the general, a departure from the correct instruction which comprises both : but this fruitful combination is found in Schwarz's " Erziehungs- lehre " (lessons in education) especially in the copious classification of the different species of dispositions (vol. iii. part i.). Of such flower-catalogues of child-souls we cannot have too many ; they are, as it were, the little Linnasan labels on the seedlings of a tree and flower nursery. All our partitioned-cases for the characters of children are, however, as comprehensive and therefore as little classifying as a high book-case with only two shelves in it might be. The bud-indications of future genius, for example, we have scarcely at all, except only from themselves when they have already borne flowers and fruit ; but the early watching of them by another would give a richer and purer return than their own after- recollection : it is a pity only that the teachers seldom know beforehand which child will be greater than them- selves. It is true that through this ignorance on the part of the teachers the powers of the spirit of not even one genius will run wild, grow deformed, or become weakened — for such a one (for example Winckelmann) breaks like the moth from its chrysalis through the hard earth of all restraints without damage to the tender wings — but the powers of the heart, which often it little knows itself how to rule, can easily by unskilful hands be contorted into lasting errors. Thus it would be best that a father should always look upon his children as endowed with genius if at all possible (and this is easy, since he desires it only too much), and therefore keep, upon chance, a harvest register of their developing power. Whilst Schwarz in his "Lessons," by a detailed treatment of the subject, and by a noble kindliness of disposition appeals more to the mothers, Niethammer in the " Streite des Philanthropismus und Humanismus " 80 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. | PREFACE, (Conflict of Philanthropism and Humanism), addresses himself more to the fathers ; inasmuch as he recommends and prefers the formal education by means of languages as being the education of the whole correctly, rather than the material instruction through objects, as being piece- meal education ; and would strengthen and steel the inner man more by intellectual labour than by intellectual feed- ing. With his pleasing enmity towards the present time — which by natural histories, Bertuchian picture-books, and other apparatus for the eye, transforms school-rooms into alps, where the plant is forced till it is meagre and small and its blossom over-large — I sympathized joyfully, as early as the first and second chapters of the seventh section, and I do so still. The educational power of philology becomes its own proof by means of his masterly logical demonstration. He is only wrong, as it seems, in excluding from the fellow-workers in the vineyard of formal education the deep-planting Pestalozzi, who, it may be, belongs even to its pioneers. As Pestalozzi's earliest harvests are invisible, that is to say, are only roots which cannot be disclosed to view, so his formal plan of education by means of mathematics differs from that of " Humanism " through philology only in respect to the tool employed. Both teachers are driven in their harvest-wagon towards the same point, but as they sit opposite to each other they look only at each other and at contrary roads. Graser in his work "Divinitiit der Menschenbildung" (Divineness of Human Education), sets out the four great means of advance towards Divinity (like the four gospels), Justice, Love, Truth, and Art or Beauty, as the four edu- cational elements. Certainly, instead of the word " Di- vinitiit " (divineness), as unusual as it is supermundane, he might with more conformity to language and life have said " Gottiihnlichkeit " (likeness to God), seeing that the best education, as a second after-creation of the God-like image in man, can only leave us all as vapoury cold mock- suns to the primeval Sun of the world, standing no higher than the clouds of earth. In truth, the educational principle of Divineness existed already in the earlier one of Humanity, since only as God-Man do we find and know SECOND ED. J LE7ANA. SI divinity in mankind ; but the radiance of the Ideal dwell- ing in pure eternity throws us the light upon our path more clearly than the human-reality dimmed by time For the rest, the author, who has not so much woven-in as woven-on the definite to the most general, surprises us pleasantly at the conclusion with definite embodyings, in fact, with hints so practical that one would willingly have given them a good deal more space and room for play, by clearing away earlier sheets of transcendentalism. But can he not take some ordinary white sheets, and give us upon them as long a continuation of his Education- praxis as we have already desired to have in our hands? In the " Allgemeine Padagogik " (Universal-Pedagogic) of Herbart the beautiful language beguiling with bril- liancy and charms cannot, however, divert the wish that he had not used the title-privilege " universal " so univer- sally, and carried it throughout, so that the reader is obliged to fill in the too spacious forms with supplementary contents. In a philosopher, if he be a teacher, one finds often enough, to be sure, only the polar star which, it is true, serves well for a long voyage round the world, but not for a short one in the world : even as philosophers in general resemble the Jewish prophets (or even weather- prophets ) r who predict more easily of a century than their own approaching death-day, just as in history (if I may allow myself a too ponderous comparison) even Providence unveils itself not in years, but in centuiies — and scarcely in them, since the revealing century becomes again the veil of the next. But when Herbart wishes to strengthen and to stretch the muscle-strings and bowstrings of the character, then he enters powerfully into the special and definite, and with good reason, since the drift of his words and thoughts bear witness that he possesses one himself. Certainly for education, the character is the true elemental- fire : if only the instructor has it, it will, if not enkindle at any rate give warmth and bring out abilities. The present century — a volcanic isle that glows, works, trembles, and heaves — should at length have learnt and discovered from the political colossus who is now stand- ing on the borders of two centuries, through the victories* over his sea-fishers toiling hither and thither, the con i- o 82 JEAN PAUL TEIEDltlCH PJCHTER. [PREFACE. tents and worth of a character : for a character is a rock on which stranded sailors land, and the headstrong are wrecked. No happy future for a nation was ever yet to .he built up but by hands of which the first and second fingers could, intellectually, clench themselves into fists. So says hoary History to this very day, but she speaks as a chattering woman and sibyl more and more year by year, and knows not how to stop. This most recent, computed wealth of educational works, even with the omission of many other sources of profit, elevates the German, amongst European nations, to the position of the teaching one ; and German schools, like several towns in France, ought to bear the honourable title of " the good." Even as Lessing called the insignifi- cant-seeming Jews the educators of the human race, so in the Germans perhaps we may be promised the educators of the future. Love and strength, or inner harmony and courage, are the poles of education : so Achilles learnt from the centaur to play the lyre and at the same time to draw the bow. Yet let us above all consider, before we invert the delu- sion of sailors — who often take ice-fields for land — and take the land of the future for an ice-field, that to all nations of the earth, even the more servile (to say nothing of those more free), the nursery of education has remained as a sunny spot and a refuge for freedom undestroyed by time and circumstance. Amongst all secret societies and clubs which the State in critical times often prohibits, the family-clubs of as many children as one has had baptized are yet endured without hesitation. Let us then, with the short child- arm — that is to say with the long arm of the lever — build and move the future, and unweariedly and bravely help to work out the good of the present, and to bury-in the bad. Yes, even he, whose children's fruit-harvest may tarry too long, let him say to himself, " my grandchildren too are human beings," and let him continue to sow. Jean Paul Fe Eichtek. Baireuth, 2\»t November, 1811. ( 83 ) LEVANA; OR, THE DOCTBINE OF EDUCATION. FIKST FBAGMENT. Chap. I. Importance of Education, § 1—3. Chap. II. Discourse against its Influence, § 4 — 15. Chap. III. Discourse for the same, § 16—20. CHAPTER I IMPORTANCE OE EDUCATION. §1. When Antipater demanded fifty children as hostages from the Spartans, they offered him, in their stead, a hundred men of distinction ; unlike ordinary educators, who pre- cisely reverse the offering. The Spartans thought rightly and nobly. In the world of childhood all posterity stands before us, upon which we, like Moses upon the promised land, may only gaze, but not enter; and at the same time it renews for us the ages of the young world behind which we must appear ; for the child of the most civilised capital is a born Otaheitan, and the one-year-old Sans- culotte a first Christian, and the last children of the earth came upon the world with the paradise of our first parents. So, according to Bruyn, the children of the Samojeds are beautiful and only the parents ugly. If there were a perfect and all-powerful system of education, and a unity of educators with themselves and with one g 2 84 JEAN PAUL FEIEDEICH EICHTER. [FEAG. I. another ; then, since each generation of children begins the history of the world anew, the immediate, and through it the distant future, in which we can now gaze and grasp so little, would stand much more fairly in our power. For deeds and books — the means by which we have hitherto been able to work upon the world — always find it already defined and hardened and full of people like ourselves ; only by education can we sow upon a pure, soft soil the seeds of poison or of honey-bearing flowers ; and as the gods to the first men, so do we, physical and spiritual giants to children, descend to these little ones, and form them to be great or small. It is a touching and a mighty thought that now before their educator, the great spirits and teachers of our immediate posterity creep, as the sucklings of his milk-store — that he guides future suns, like little wandering stars, in his leading- strings. And it is all the more important because he can neither know whether he has before him, to unfold to good or evil, a hell-god for humanity, or a protecting and light- giving angel ; nor can foresee at what dangerous moment of futurity the magician, who, transformed into a little child, now plays before him, will rise up a giant. § 2. Our immediate future demands thought : our earth is filled with gunpowder — like the age of the migration of nations, ours prepares itself for spiritual and political wanderings, and under all state buildings, professorial chairs and temples the earth quakes. Do you know whether the little boy who plucks flowers at your side may not one day, from his island Corsica, descend as a war-god into a stormy universe, to play witl storms and to destroy, or to purify and to sow ? Would it then be indifferent whether, in educating him, you had been his Fenelon, his Cornelia, or his Dubois ? For although you might not be able to break or bend the power of genius — the deeper the sea, the more precipitous the coast ; — yet in the most important initiatory decade of life, in the first, at the opening dawn of all feelings, you might surround and overlay the slumbering lion energies with CHAP. I.] LEVANA. 85 all the tender habits of a gentle heart and all the hands of love. Whether an angel or a devil educate that great genius is of far more importance than whether a learned doctor or a Charles the Simple teach him. Although a system of education must, in the first instance, provide for the beings endowed with genius — since these, though they seldom arise, yet alone rule the world's history, either as leaders of souls, or of bodies, or of both — yet would such a system too much resemble a practical exposition of how to conduct one's self in case of winning the great prize, if it did not observe that the multitude of mediocre talents on which a great one can act are quite as important in the mass as the man of genius is in the individual. And therefore, since, on the one hand, you give to posterity, as alms to a beggar, through children ; and, on the other, must send these last, like unarmed men, into a hidden period whose poisonous gales you know not : so there is nothing more important to posterity than whether you send forth your pupil as the seed-corn of a harvest, or the powder-train of a mine which destroys itself and everything with it : and nothing is more important to the child than whether you have or have not given him a magic jewel which may preserve and conduct him uninjured. Let a child be more holy to you than the present which consists of things and matured men. By means of the child — although with difficulty — by means of the short lever arm of humanity, you set in motion the long one, whose mighty arc you can scarcely define in the height and depth of time. But there is something else you certainly know ; namely, that the moral development — which is education, as the intellectual is instruction — knows and fears no time nor futurity. In this you give to the child a heaven with a pole-star, which may ever guide him in whatever new countries he may afterwards reach. § 3. A perfect child would be a heavenly Aurora of tho soul ; at least its appearance would not be so variously restrained and so difficult as that of a perfect man, S6 JEA PAUL FKIEDEICH MCHTEE. [FRAG. 1. On him everything, from the state down to himself, exercises a forming influence ; but on the fresh child, parents repeat with full power the lawgiving, moulding character of Lycurgus and of Moses; they can sepatate their pupil from others, and form him without interference, better than a Spartan or Jewish state could do. Con- sequently one ought to expect more from the unlimited monarchy of parents. Children living in this kingdom, without Salic law, and in such an overflow of laws and lawgivers that the rulers are often more numerous than the ruled, and the governing house larger than the governed — having everywhere before them cabinet orders, and offended majesties, and most rapid mandata sine clau- sula, and behind the glass the exalted sceptre of the rod — possessing in their sovereign their bread-master, as well as their pain and pleasure master — and protected against him by no foreign power ; for mal-treatment of slaves is punished in many countries, even of cattle in England, but nowhere of children, — children, then, thus absolutely governed without opposition party, or anti-ministerial gazette, and without representatives, should i^sue, one would think, out of this smallest state within the state, far better educated than grown-up persons educated in the greatest of all educational establishments, the state itself. Nevertheless, both educational establishments and states seem to work so uniformly, that it is worth while, next to the necessity of education, to consider, in the two following discourses, its possibility. CHAPTER II. INAUGURAL DISCOURSE AT THE JOHANNEUM-PAULLLNUM ; OR, PROOF THAT EDUCATION EFFECTS LITTLE. § 4. Most honoured Inspector of schools, Rector, Con- and Sub- rector, master of the third class ! most worthy teacher of the lower classes and fellow-labourers! I hope I shall. CHAP. II. j LEVANA. 87 to the best of my abilities, express my pleasure at being inducted as lowest teacher into your educational estab- lishment by entering on my post of honour with the proof that school education, as well as home education, has neither evil consequences nor any other. If I am so fortunate as to lead us all to a quiet conviction of this absence of consequences, I may also possibly obtain that we shall all fill our laborious offices easily and cheerfully, without boasting, and with a certain confidence that needs fear nothing ; every day we shall walk in and out among the pupils, sit on our teaching-chair as on an easy chair, and let every thing take its own course. First, I believe, I must set forth who are the educators and complete fashioners of children, — for fashioned, in one way or another, they are ; and in which way rests with and in us ; — and afterwards I will naturally touch upon ourselves, and point out the easy change which may be effected. §5. Whence comes it that hitherto no age has spoken, coun- selled and done so much about education as our own ; and again, among nations, none so much as Germany, into which Eousseau's winged seeds have been blown out of France and ploughed in? The ancients wrote and did little for it ; their schools were rather for young men than children, and in the philosophical schools of Athens the learner frequently was, or might be, older than the teacher. Sparta was a Stoa, or garrison-school, at once for parents and children. The Romans had Grecian slaves for their schoolmasters, and yet their children became neither Greeks nor slaves. In the ages when the great and glorious deeds of Christendom and knighthood and free- dom rose like stars on the dark horizon of Europe, school buildings lay scattered around as mere dull, little, dark, savage huts, or monks' cells. And what have the political vowels of Europe — the English — whose island is a school of citizens, and whose election every seven years is a wandering seven-day Sunday school ? what have they hitherto better than mere establishments for mal-education? Where do the children more resemble the parents — and to 88 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTEK. [FRAG. I. any thing else than a mirror of himself, be it a flat, a concave, or a convex one, the teacher cannot wish to mould and polish - his pupil — than even in those places where the educators are silent, among savages, Green- landers and Quakers ? And the further one looks back through past ages to the hoary nations of antiquity, the fewer school books and Cyropedias — in fact, from want of all books — were there : all the more was the man lost in the state ; all the less was the woman, who might have educated, formed for it : nevertheless, every child was the image of its parents, which is more than the best ought to desire, since God can only behold his own image in men as a caricature. And are not our present improved educational institutions a proof that men can raise themselves freely and without aid from bad to better, and, consequently, to all other establishments of a similar kind ? §6. But who then educates in nations and ages ? — Both ! — The living time, which for twenty or thirty years struggles unceasingly with men through actions and opinions, tossing them to and fro as with a sea of waves, must soon wash away or cover the precipitate of the short school years, in which only one man, and only words taught. The century is the spiritual climate of man, mere education the hothouse and forcing pit, out of which he is taken and planted for ever in the other. By century is here meant the real century, which may as often truly consist of ten years as of ten thousand, and which is dated, like religious eras, only from great men. What can insulated words do against living present action ? The present has for new deeds also new words ; the teacher has only dead languages for the, to all appear- ance, dead bodies of his examples. The educator has himself been educated and is already possessed, even without his knowledge, by the spirit ot the age, which he asiduously labours to banish out of the youth (as a whole city criticises the spirit of the whole city). Only, alas ! every one believes himself to stand so CHAP. II.] LEVANA. 89 precisely and accurately in the zenith of the universe, that, according to his calculation, all suns and nations must culminate over his head ; and he himself, like the countries at the equator, cast no shadow save into himself alone. For were this not so, how could so many — as I also here- after propose to do — speak of the spirit of the age, when every word implies a rescue from, and elevation above it ; just as we cannot perceive the ebb and flow of the tide in the ocean, but only at its boundaries, the coasts. In like manner a savage cannot depict a savage so clearly as a civilized man can do. But in truth, the painters of the spirit of the age have for the most part represented the last one, nothing more. The great man, the poet and thinker, has never been so clearly known to himself that the crystal light-holder and the light have become one ; much less then have other men. However easily blooming every man may open towards the sky, he is yet drawn down by a root into the dark, firm earth. §7. The spirit of the nation and of the age decides and is at once the schoolmaster and the school ; for it seizes on the pupil to form him with two vigorous hands and powers ; with the living lesson of action, and with its unalterable unity. If — to begin with unity — education must be, like the Testament, a continuous endeavour to withdraw the force of interrupting mixtures, then nothing builds up so strong as the present, which ceases not for a moment and eternally repeats itself; and which, with joy and sorrow, with towns and books, with friends and enemies — in short, with thousand-handed life, presses and seizes on us. No teacher of the people continues so uniformly one with him- self as the teaching people. Minds, molten into masses, lose something of free movement, which bodies, for in- stance that of the world, perhaps that of the universe, seem to gain by their very massiveness, and as heavy colossi move only the more easily along the old, iron- covered track. For however much marriages, old age, deaths and enmities, are in the individual case subject to the law of freedom ; yet lists of births and deaths can f 90 JEAN PAUL FKIEDRICH RICHTER. [FEAG. I. be made for a whole nation, and it may be shown that in the Canton of Berne (according to Mad. de Stael) the number of divorces, as in Italy that of murders, is the same from year to year. Must not, now, the little human being placed on such an eternally and ever similarly acting world be borne as upon a flying earth, where the only directions that a teacher can give avail nothing, because he has first unconsciously received his line of movement upon it ? Thence, in spite of all reformers and informers, nutions, like meadows, reach ever a similar verdure ; thence, even in capital cities, where all schoolbooks and schoolmasters, and even parents of every kind educate, the spirit maintains itself unalterably the same. Repetition is the mother not only of study but also of education. Like the fresco painter, the teacher lays colours on the wet plaster which ever fade away, and which he must ever renew until they remain and brightly shine. V\ ho then, at Naples for instance, lays the colours most frequently on the spiritual tablet of one individual, the one tutor, or the multitude of 30,000 advocates, 30,000 lazzaroni, and 30,000 monks ; a threefold company of fates, or nine- fold one of nine murderers, compared with which Vesuvius is a quiet man who suffers himself to be entreated by Saint Januarius * (although not in January) ? Certainly one might say that also in families there educates, besides the popular masses, a pedagogic crowd of people ; at least, for instance, aunts, grandfathers, grand- mothers, father, mother, godparents, friends of the family, the yearly domestics, and at the end of all, the instructor beckons with his fore-finger, so that — could this force continue as long as it would gladly be maintained — a child, under these many masters, would resemble, much more than one thinks, an Indian slave who wanders about with the inbnrnt stamps of his various masters. But how does the multitude disappear compared with the highe-i one by which it was coloured ; just as all the burnt marks of the slave yet cannot overcome the hot black colouring of the sun, but receive it as a coat of arms ir a sable field! * The protecting ^aint of the NeaDolitans against Ves vius. CHAP. IT.] LEVANA. 91 §8. The second mighty power by -which the spirit < f the age and people teaches and conquers is the living actior . Not the cry, says a Chinese author, but the rising of a wild duck impels the flock to follow him in upward flight. One war fought against a Xerxes inflames the heart quite differently, more purely and more strongly than the perusal of it three times in Cornelius, Plutarch, and Herodotus : for this last, along with the whole teaching of school phrases, is merely an intellectual imi- tation in cork (a phelloplastic, according to Bottiger's retranslation into the Greek) in order easily to represent ancient temples and magnificent buildings in light cork forms. /Yea, the mere ancestral images of deeds in Plutarch's Westminster Abbey cast the seeds of the divine word more deeply into the heart than one or a few thou- sand volumes of sermons full of true pulpit eloquence^ Heaven ! if words could be compressed to deeds, only a thousand to one, could they yet arouse upon an earth in which pulpits, professois' chairs and libraries of all ages snow down unceasingly their most pure cold exhortations, one single passion to hurl forth volcanic fire? Would not history then be surrounded with mere snow craters and icebergs ? Ah ! most respected teachers, if even we, with our great college libraries that preach to us for tens of years, have never once been brought so far as to become holy men for a month, nay for a week, what dare we expect from the few volumes of words which we let fall in school hours ? Or what more should the parents at home expect ? The pedagogic powerlessness of words is unfortunately confessed in a peculiar manner, which is daily renewed in each of us. Namely, every individual being is divided into a teacher and his scholars ; or is split up into the teacher's chair and the scholars' bench. Should you now believe that this perpetual house-tutor in the four chambers of the brain — who daily gives private lessons to the sharer of his apartment, philanthropist and boarder — who is a morning, evening and night preacher — who never ceases 92 JEAN PAUL FEIEDKICH IIICHTER. [FRAG. I. with his eonversatorium and repetitorinm — who accom- panies the pupil, whom he loves as himself and conversely, everywhere with notes of instruction as tutor on hi* travels, in ins ? This, indeed, were scarcely to be believed if we did not daily see the most lamentable instances of it in ourselves. There is, for example, in the history of the learned something very usual and very pitiful : that excellent men have resolved for many years to rise earlier in a morning, without much coming of it — unless they may perhaps break through the habit at the last day. § 9. ' Permit us to return : and since we have easily asked whether a man may be more effectually moved by a thousand outward foreign words than by a billion of his own inward ones, let us not be very much astonished if the stream of words which is given to the youth, in order that he may thereby guide and bear himself up in the ocean, should be dissipated by the winds and waves on every side. But give us leave to remark that we lay many things to the account of school-rooms, that is, of words, which have in fact had their sole origin on the common teaching-ground of action ; just as, in former times, general pestilences were ascribed to the poisoning of particular wells by the Jews. The schoolhouse of the CHAP. II.] LEV ANA. 93 young soul does not merely consist of lecture and lesson rooms, but also of the school ground, the sleeping room, the eating room, the play-ground, the staircase, and of every place. Heaven ! what intermixture of other in- fluences, always either to the advantage or prejudice of education ! The physical growth of the pupil nourishes and draws forth a mental one ! Nevertheless, this is ascribed to the pedagogic tan-bed ; just as if one must not necessarily grow cleverer and taller at the same time ! One might quite as properly attribute the service of the muscles to the leading-strings. Parents very often in their own children regard that as the effect of educational care and attention which in strangers they would merely con- sider the consequence of human growth. There are so many illusions ! If a great man have gone through any one educational establishment, he is ever after explained by that : either he did not resemble it, and then it is held to have been a moulding counter-irritation ; or he did, and then it acted as an incitement to life. /In the same way one might regard the blue library, whose binding taught the librarian Duval his first lessons in arithmetic, as an arithmetical book and school for arithmetic^ If parents, or men in general, in all their education seek nothing else than to make their physical image into their more perfect mental one, and consequently to varnish over this copy with the departed brightness of the original, then must they readily fall into the mistake of esteeming an inborn resemblance an acquired one. and physical fathers spiritual ones, and nature freedom. /, But in this and the former consideration, that holds true of children which does of nations : there were found in the new world ten customs of the old — six Chinese in Peru, four Hottentotish in western America*, — without any other nearer descent to account for these resemblances than the general one from Adam, )r humanity, y^ §10. ^ We may, excellent fellow-workers, especially flatter ourselves with services to humanity when the position is proved true, that we effect little, or nothing, by education^ y * Ziminermann's History of Man, vol. iii. U^aCpt"^ 94 JEAN PAUL FR1EDR1CH RICHTER. [FRAG. I. y/ As in the mechanical world every motion, if the opposition of friction were removed, would be unceasingly continued, and every change become eternal ; so, in the spiritual world, if the pupil less bravely opposed and vanquished the teacher, a more beggarly life would be eternally repeated than we can at all picture to ourselves. I mean this : if all the ways and times of this poor earth were to be filled with dull stiff images from pedagogic old prin- cipality-ltw-codes and Swabia-law-codes, that is with counterfeits of school-men, so that consequently every age would be reprinted from the preceding one, manikin for manikin ; * what else is wanted for this tedious misery but that education should succeed beyond our expectations, and a tutor and schoolmaster allow his head, like a crowned one, to pass stamped in all hands and corners ? And a whole bench of knights might become an assembly of candidates fit for the tournament, because they had been previously clean and well copied after the quiet burgher's pattern ? "pBut we will venture to hope the opposite ; the school- master and tutor is ever afterwards connected with the nobleman as God with natureS,, concerning which Seneca justly writes — semel jussit, semper paret — i.e., the tutor's study is very soon closed, and the ante-chamber and audience-hall opened. "p In order not to fall into the error of those who introduce the bird Phoenix and the Man in the Moon un wived, I have here in my thoughts girls also, on whom, as on pigeons and canary birds, false colours are painted by governesses, as well as by tutors, which the first rain or moulting removes. But, as has been said, every woman becomes in time something peculiar ; a beautiful Idioticon of her many provinces of language. " — §11. Through long teaching, to which no advance of the pupil is sufficiently proportioned, schoolmasters of under- standing may arrive at the question : " How will the poor • An expression used of a second edition when it is a reprint of the first ; which (as this minor proposition demonstrates) is not the case here. CHAP. II.] LEVANA. 95 scholar be able to walk in the right path without our leading-strings, since even with them he runs into error ?" — and also at this wish : " Good heavens ! that we could but wind him up and fix him, exactly like an astronomical v, hundred-yeared chronometer, so that he might show the hours and positions of the planets and every thing quite accurately long after our death ! " — and consequently at this opinion : " That they were in fact the soul of his inner man, and had to raise his every limb, or were at least his supporting mould, in which he ought not merely to carry his broken arm, as in a gentle bandage, but also his leg, his head and his entrails, so as to be completely strengthened." If the tutor accompany his young master to the university, the one goes into much good society without the other : and if they both at last set off on their travels, the young gentleman goes into much of a suspicious nature, and the tutor ends his anxiety ; — which resembles the anxiety of a mother as to how the poor naked fetus can exist when it comes into this cold blowing world and is no longer nourished by hei blood, a "i Truly your singing bird of a pupil will continue to whistle for you through the night ; because, by a night- light, that is by an education out of season, you delude him into the belief of an artificial day-light ; but, when he once flies into the open air, he will then only arrange his notes and sound them at the general break of day. y If we place ourselves on another eminence to con- template thence the directions, fears and demands oi teachers, we almost feel tempted to drive them down from ; their lofty position, especially because they, the educators, assume and presume so much ; for they do not take and set before them the great World-plan as their school-plan, ^L nor the All-educator as an example to the poor hedge- schoolmaster man, — but do so anxiously endeavour, with their narrow views, to assist the infinite Pedagogiarch (Prince of teachers) who permits sun to revolve round sun, and child round father, and so the child's and father's father are alike, — as if humanity, neglected for thousands of years, were laid before them, like warm wax, on which they had to impress their own individual induration, to pr )duce future indurations ; so that they might as re- 96 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. I, creators agreeably surprise the Creator with a living sea. and plaster cabinet of their coats of arms and heads. A lcng period, and here again a long period ! * § 12. None of all my hearers, of whom I am the nearest, car have forgotten that at the commencement I asked why so much at present in Germany is written about educa- tion and grounded upon it, as I also myself intend to lay some printed ideas on the subject before the public. I answer, for this reason ; because by cultivation all humanity has become a speaking machine, and the flesh a word. (The more education the more notions p) the less action the more speech ; man is becoming a •'man by profession, as there were formerly Christians by profession; and the ear his sensorium commune. The beggar, for instance, passes by the great citizen unnoticed ; the one has fled from the other, not merely in deed, but beyond that, in word : just as battles, pestilences and such like, pass over us only as gentle sounds. Therefore is poetry so beneficial as a counterbalance to civilisation, because it draws an artistic life round the thin shadows, and erects on the battle-field of mere sensuous views its own glorious visions. But as the German spends no time so willingly as a time for consideration — to the most important step he made, namely that into life, he took an eternity of con- sideration — he prefers steady, slow writing, to quick hither and thither roving speech ; unlike the Southerns, he is less a speech-loving than a writing-loving people, as his registries and book-shelves prove. "A word, a man,"*V means now " black on white, a man." Writing and fact, or clothing and body, are now as distinct from one another as shoe and foot, which, as a measure, mean with us the same thing.*! It all depends on one little stroke whether Christ is Goa or not; namely, on the well-known passage, 1 Tim. iii. 16, in the Alexandrine codex, where a little stroke with the back of the pen changes OC [i.e. Os] into * A common proverbial expression, signifying that no written contract is necessary when a man has given his word. — Tb. CHAP. II. J LEVANA. 97 ©C (©eos), and upon an " Or " in the Carolina,* whether a man should be hanged or not. ^ But now if the inner being of the cultivated man is merely composed, like some drawings, of letters and words, then enough can never be said of and in education, since the consciousness of having separated the inner life into ideas, consequently into words, secures the certainty of being able again to re-construct it by means of the sepa- rated component parts, that is, by means of words ; in short, to educate through the means of speech, by the pen and the tongue. " Draw," said Donatello to the sculptors, " and you will be able to do the rest." " Speak," say we to teachers, " and you will show how to act."/. yAs every kind of existence only propagates itself by itself ; for example, deeds only by deeds, words by words, education by education ; we will, excellent fellow labourers, cheer and strengthen ourselves in the hope that our teach- ing may spiritually reward us by the elevation of our pupils into teachers, who may hereafter speak more ex- tendedly with others ^\and that our Johanneum-Paullinum may serve as an educational institution for many educa- tional institutions, while we send forth from our school- gates matured house-tutors, school -keepers and catechizers, to produce their equals in good school-houses, — not Cyruses, but Cyropedias and Cyropedagogiarchs. § 13. I now turn to the most worshipful fathers of the city, our supporters and school- archs, not only with thanks, but also with entreaties. There remains, namely, in the most unpractical men and speakers a something harsh and real — it is called, harshly enough, Stomach — which, from selfishness, values in the tongue only its imports, not its exports. Enough ; every one possesses this member ; and it is this especially that makes us wish our school might be raised into a finance or industrial school for all Ihose who receive their incomes from it, so that every one who as scholar subscribes to it may gladly again enter it in * Art. 159. 98 JEAN PAUL FKIEDEICH RICHTER. [FRAG. I. order to be paid as teacher. Moreover our school book- shop, less truly school-library, and our school-purse, yea and our school widow's fund, might be well supported; and so of -every thing else, for the only school sickness which teachers have is hunger, an evil for whicb the state should supply domestic means, or so called housekeeper s provision. But since all of us, especially as educators of youth, wish to live for something fairer and more enduring than our dinner of black soup, for which we must first all day long distribute whipping-soup, I venture, unabashed, to prefer the proud request : That the desk from which the third master and music teacher, as well as myself, have to pro- pound the needful instruction, may be newly coloured, merely like a book or a Prussian post house, black and white ; and that the Lyceum may receive, if not the name Gymnasium, yet the epithet Royal, and that we may all, as far as possible, be addressed by the title of Professors. Perhaps the school friendship, which has hitherto con- fined itself to the scholars, might then be extended to the teachers. Fiat ! — Dixi ! § 14. Scarcely had the author composed and delivered this inaugural discourse, than so much of a resignation speech was found in it, that a fair opportunity to deliver this also, and to explain himself more at large, was afforded by his removal which occurred a few days afterwards. There- by he was placed in a position to take leave of his fellow- teachers as publicly as he had received his dismissal, and at the same time to choose as text for his short farewell discourse — The Educational Chair (which he mounted for the second and last time), and to impress upon them its importance. CHAP. III.l LEVANA. 99 CHAPTER III. IMPORTANCE OF EDUCATION. § 15. Most honoured brothers in office! In laying down my short-held office with a certain consoling consciousness that none of those intrusted to my charge will ever stand forth to reproach me with an erroneous plan of teaching, or with hours of instruction gossiped away, I can find no theme for a farewell more connected with the subject than the consideration how deeply a good education penetrates into the heart of the age ; and I choose this the more readily, because it will give me an opportunity to place in a new light much that the day before yesterday was laid down by my predecessor in this desk, the deliverer of the in- augural discourse, — for here I do not venture to speak of myself in any other way since my dismissal. It shall only be proved that he advanced mere sophisms, which originally, according to Leibnitz, signified only exer- cises in wisdom. " For what other reason," he asks, " do men now write so much about education, than because," he answers, " our whole existence has passed into words, and words so easily, by means of tongues and ears, into the soul." But is this, pray, anything different from what I myself maintain ? We shall see. §16. No former age or people is to be compared with any since the invention of printing ; for since that time there have been no more isolated states, and consequently no isolated influence of the state on its component parts. Strangers and returned travellers, whom Lycurgus ex- cluded from his republic, like episodes and the intervention of gods from the dramatic unities, now traverse every country in the shape of cheap books and waste paper. No one is any longer alone, not even an island in the most distant sea ; thence comes it that the political balance of H 2 100 JEAN PAUL FEIEDEICH EICHTEE. [FEAG. I. power of many states collected under one arm of the balance is now first mooted. Europe is an interlaced, mis-grown, banyan-forest round which the other qiiarters of the world creep, like parasitic plants, and nourish them- selves on its decayed parts. Books form a universal republic, a union of nations, or a society of Jesus, in a nobler sense, or a Humane society, whereby a second or duplicate Europe arises ; which, like London, lies in several counties and districts. As now, on the one side, the book-pollen flying everywhere brings the disadvantage that no people can any longer produce a bed of flowers true and unspotted with foreign colours : — as now no state can be any longer formed purely, slowly, and by degrees from itself, but, like an Indian idol composed of different animals, must see the various members of the neighbouring states mingled with its growth ; — so, on the other side, through the (Ecurnenic Council of the book-world, the spirit of a provincial assembly can no longer slavishly enchain its people, and an invisible church frees it from the visible one. — And therefore we educate now with some hope for the age because we know that the spoken word of the German teacher is re-echoed by the printed page ; and that the citizen of the world, under the supervision of the universal republic, will not sink into the citizen of an injurious state, all the more because, though books may be dead yet glorified men, their pupils will ever hold them- selves as their living relatives. ")C That the age writes so much on education shows at once its absence and the feeling of its importance. Only lost things are cried about the streets. The German state itself no longer educates sufficiently ; consequently the teacher should do it in the nursery, from the pulpit, and from the desk. The forcing-houses in Eome and Sparta are destroyed, — in Sinai and in the Arabian desert some few yet stand. The old circle, that the state should plan and direct the education, and this again act on that, has been very much rectified, or indeed squared, by the art of printing; for now men, elevated above all states, educate states ; dead men, for instance, like Plato ; just as in the deep old morning- world, according to the Saga, .angels with glories wandered about, guided, like children, CHAP. III.] LEVANA. 101 the new men who had sprang out of the rains, and, having ended their instruction, vanished into heavenX The earth, according to Zach's ingenious idea, has been formed from congregated moons ; one moon, striking on the American side, drove the deluge over the old world ; the sharp- pointed, wildly -up-piled Switzerland is nothing more than a visible moon that once tumbled from its pure ether down to the earth, — and so there is in intellectual Europe, far more than in any age or quarter of the world not addicted to printing, a congregation of soul-worlds, or of woi'ld- souls, sent or fallen from heaven. >(The great man has now a higher throne, and his crown shines over a wider plain ; for he works not only by action, but also by writing, — not only by his word, but also, like thunder, by its echo. So one mind influences its neighbouring minds, and through them the masses. As niany little ships draw a large one £ into harbour, so inferior minds bring the great one to shore that it may be unladen, v § 17. My predecessor, however, might grant or add much ; namely, that if the great body of authors have gradually assumed the educational position once held by quacks and fortunetellers, the great advancing mass of the people, which so easily overpowers in its vast ocean the early teaching of childhood, has itself changed and increased. " Libraries, and two yearly book-fairs — not including the one of reprints at Frankfort — surpass, I should think, a few schoolbooks and their expounders," the deliverer of the address might, and probably does, say. But a principal point here must not be overlooked. It is indubitable that everything impresses man either formingly or improvingly ; so that, I think, not merely an assembly of people and of books, and great electric effusions in his heaven's equator discompose him, but also that damp weather unnerves him, — hence it is certain that no man can take a walk without bringing home an in- fluence on his eternity ; every spur, every star of heaven and of knighthood, every beetle, every trip or touch of the hand as certainly engraves itself upon us, as the gentle dewdrop or the hanging of a mist affects the granite 102 JEAN PAUL FRIEDKICH RICHTER. [PRAO. I. mountains. But just as certainly, on the other hand, is this assertion necessary : " That the strength of every impression depends on our condition yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow." For the human being assimilates more spiritual food the less he has hitherto received ; as he never grows more rapidly and disproportionately to the given nourishment than as foetus : but, after he has reached the point of satiety, he rejects so much that it is well the brief youth of the individual is compensated by the eternal youth of humanity, whose point of satiety is marked on a scale which takes centuries and nations for the fractions of its lines. On this account education is always counselled to do as much as possible during the first year of life ; for it can then effect more with half the power than it can in the eighth -with double, when the sense of freedom is aroused, and all the conditions of being indefinitely multiplied. As farmers believe it most advantageous to sow in mist, so the first seeds of education should fall in the first and thickest mist of life. In the first place have regard to morality. The inner man is, like the negro, born white and only coloured black by life. If in mature years great examples of moral worth pass by without influencing our course of life more than a flying comet does that of the earth, yet in the deep heart of childhood the first inner or outer object of love, injustice, &c, throws a shadow or a light immeasurably far along its years ; and as, according to the elder theologians, we only inherited Adam's first sin, not his other sins, since in one fall we copied every fall ; so the first fall and the first flight influence us our whole life long. For in this early moment the Eternal works the second miracle ; the gift of life was the first. It is then that the God-man is con- ceived and born of human nature ; that self-consciousness, whereby a responsible being first appears, may be boldly called a conscience and a God — and unblessed is the hour in which this growing human being finds no immaculate conception, but in the moment of birth the Saviour and his Judas meet. Too little attention has been paid to this one invaluable moment, its environments and its fruits. There are men who can remember far back to this bounding CHAP. III.] LEVANA. 103 hour of existence, in which their self-consciousness suddenly burst through the clouds like a sun, and wonderfully revealed a beaming universe. Life, especially moral life, has a flight, then a leap, then a step, then a halt ; each year renders a man less easy to convert, and a missionary can effect less on a wicked sexagenarian than an auto-da-fe. § 18. What is true of the heart of the inner man is true also of his eye. If the former, like an ancient Christian church, must be turned towards the morning of childhood ; the latter, like a Grecian temple, receives its greatest light from the entrance and from above. For, in regard to intellectual education, the child walks hand in hand with a nature which never returns ; this nature is hitherto a wintry desert full of spring buds : wherever a sunbeam strikes it (for all teaching is warming into life rather than sowing) there the green leaves burst forth, and the whole child's life consists of warm creation days. Two forces are at work : first, childlike trust, that imbibing power without which there could be no education and no language, but the child would resemble a bird taken too late from the nest, which must starve because it will not open its beak to the hand which brings its food But this trust shows itself only in the minority, and sleeps in the mass of men and years. The second power is excitability. As in the physical, so in the spiritual child, it exists in the highest degree in the physical and spiritual morning of life, and decreases with age, until at last nothing in the empty world excites the worn-out man except the future. Then the whole universe may strive to press its marks upon the man, but on the hardened matter only weak impressions remain. The spirit of his age and nation must work unceasingly on the child : at first his only teachers are the age and nation. Moravians, Quakers, and especially Jews, give a direction to education which predominates over the surrounding dissimilar ages and people : and although even they are influenced by the spirit of the age and of the multitude, yet it impresses them much more slightly than the masses who are differently educated. And however the spirit of the age may move 104 JEAN PAUL FR1EDR1CH EICHTER. [FRAG. I. and turn the heart, that little world, yet, like all balls re- volving on themselves, it retains two innate, immoveable poles — the good and the bad. § 19. Moreover, the whole mass of people does not, as my pre- decessor seems to assert, rush on the individual human being. Only some few in later as in early life affect the formation of our characters ; the multitude passes by like a distant army. One friend, one teacher, one beloved, one club, one dining table, one work table, one house are, in our age, the nation and national spirit influencing the in- dividual, while the rest of the crowd passes him without leaving a trace behind. But when do individuals affect us so powerfully as in childhood ? or when so long — for in education, as in law*, long means ten years — as in the first decade? The waves of the ocean, besides, before reaching the child, break against four walls which encompass the water of his education or crystallisation : father, mother, brothers and sisters, and a few extra people are his forming world ami mould. But, all this deducted, we must re- member in education that its power, like that of the spirit of the age, which must not be measured by individuals, but by the concentrated mass or majority, — must be judged not by the present, but by the future : a nation or century educated by the same method, presses down the balance quite differently from a casual individual. But we, as ever, desire that Fate, or the Time Spirit, should answer our inquiries by return of post. § 20. I have in this manner, at least I hope so, laid my own opinion, as well as his, before my opponent and predecessor with a respect which is not so common among the learned body as many an opponent of an opponent believes. For the little that he adds about the absorption of the indi- vidual in the mass merits not contradiction but affirmation. The uniformity of the masses permits many irregularities * Longnm tempus es 4 chcem annoruui. Homm. prompt. CHAP. III.] LEVANA. 105 in the individual; and although the tables of mortality are correct, no one hopes and fears only by them. On the globe itself mountains disappear, and from these at a distance, the stony path ; but he who travels it sees it clearly enough And when the dear good man, along with his complaints of the ineffectiveness of good education, gives way to complaints of the influence of bad education, he then clearly proves by a capability to be ill-educated a capability to be well-educated ; and so education is to be reproached with no want but the want of correct tables of the perturbations of a little wandering star caused by the revolutions of other planets ; and will we not readily concede this ? And now, worthy Schoolarchy, I should wish to know what further I have to say from this honourable place ? 106 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH EICHTER. [FRAG. II. SECOND FRAGMENT. Chap. L Spirit and Principle of Education, § 21—24, Chap. IL The Individuality of the Ideal Man, § 25—30. Chap. III. On the Spirit of the Age, § 31—35. Chap. IV. Religious Education, § 36—38. CHAPTER I. SPIRIT AND PRINCIPLE OF EDUCATION. §21. The end desired must be known before the way. All means or arts of education will be, in the first instance, determined by the ideal or archetype we entertain of it. But there floats before common parents, instead of one archetype, a whole picture cabinet of ideals, which they impart bit by bit and tattoo into their children. If the secret variances of a large class of ordinary fathers were brought to light, and laid down as a plan of studies, and reading catalogue for a moral education, they would run somewhat after this fashion : In the first hour pure morality must be read to the child, either by myself or the tutor : in the second mixed morality, or that which may be applied to one's own advantage : in the third, " do you not see that your father does so and so ? " in the fourth, " you are little and this is only fit for grown up people " : in the fifth, " the chief matter is that you should succeed in the world and become something in the state " : in the sixth, " not the temporary but the eternal determines the worth of a man ": in the seventh, " therefore rather suffer injustice and be kind " : in the eighth, " but defend yourself bravely if any one attack you ": in the uinth, " do not make such a noise, dear child ": in the tenth, " a boy must not sit so quiet ": in the eleventh, " you must obey your parents CHAP. I.] LEVANA. 107 better": in the twelfth, "and educate yourself." So by the hourly change of his principles the father conceals their untenableness and one-sidedness. As for his wife, she is neither like him, nor yet like that harlequin who came on to the stage with a bundle of papers under eacn arm, and answered to the inquiry what he had under his right arm, " orders," and to what he had under his left, "counter- orders; " but the mother might be much better compared to a giant Briareus, who had a hundred arms, and a bundle of papers under each. This government of the demi-gods, so frequently and so suddenly changed, proves clearly not only the absence, but also the necessity and the right of a superior god : for in the generality of souls the ideal, without which men would sink down into four-footed beasts, reveals itself rather by inner discord than unison, rather by judgments on others than on itself. But with children the result of this may be, and often has been, various and half-coloured pupils, whom (unless some rare peculiarity makes them hard and uciinjurable) the spirit of the age, or the accident of necessity and pleasure, can easily break with its wheel, or even twine round it. The majority of educated men are, therefore, at present Sn illumination which burns off by fits and starts in the rain, shining with interrupted forms and depicting broken characters. But the bad and impure spirits of educational systems are yet to be reduced into other divisions. Many parents educate their children only for themselves, — that is, to be pretty blocks, or soul-alarums, which are not set to move or sound when stillness is required. The child has merely to be that on which the teacher can sleep most softly, or drum most loudly ; who having something else to do and to enjoy, wishes to be spared the trouble of education, duly but most unreasonably expecting its fruits. Hence these dull sluggards are so often angry because the child is not at once cleverer, more consistent and gentler than themselves. Even zealous children's friends, like states- men, often resemble inflammable air, which, it is true, gives light itself, but in so doing extinguishes every other : at least a child must often be to them, what a favourite assistant must be to a minister, sometimes only 108 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. I. the hand, which copies, sometimes a head which can work by itself. Related to those teachers who wish to be machine- makers, are the educators for appearances and political usefulness. Their maxims, thoroughly carried out, would only produce pupils, or rather sucklings, passively obedient, boneless, well-trained, patient of all things — the thick, hard, human kernel would give place to the soft, sweet fruit-pulp — and the child's clod of earth, into which growing life should breathe a divine spirit, would be kept down and manured as though it were but a corn field, — the edifice of the state would be inhabited by lifeless spinning machines, calculating machines, printing and pumping apparatus, oil mills, and models for mills, pumps and spinning machines, &c. Instead of every child, born without past and without future, beginning in the year one, and bringing with him a first new-year, the state, forsooth, must step into and usurp the place of a remote posterity, which alone could make him spiritually, as well as physically, young again, and substitute for him a system of teaching which only stops his wheels and surrounds them like hardened ice. Nevertheless the man comes before the citizen, and our future, beyond the world as well as in our own minds, is greater than both : how then have parents, who in the child clothe and bind up the man into a servant, — for instance, into custom-house officers, kitchen-purveyors, jurists, &c. — obtained the right to mxiltiply themselves otherwise than physically, instead of begetting spiritual embryos ? Can care of the body impart a right of spiritual starvation, or of good-living such as the devil would pre- scribe a soul, since no body can outbalance, nay, not even balance, a soul ? The ancient German and Spartan custom of killing weak-bodied children is not much crueller than that of propagating weak-minded ones. §22. Usefulness to others is only separated from usefulness to one's self as dishonesty is from uncharitableness : both are united in self-love. Hedgerows and Hercules-pillars, CHAP. I.] LEVANA. 109 however perfect, are blameable as soon as they diminish the free world of a future man. If Mengs, hy slavery of body and soul, made his son, Raphael Mengs, into a painter — according to Winckelmann the Grecian p+ate only reached art through and for freedom — he did but adopt the old Egyptian custom, that the son must follow the trade of his father, only in its higher branches. Much of this holds good with regard to domestic orphan- house chaplains, who transform the whole children's train- ing into a church-training and bible-institution, and make free, happy children into bowed-down cloister novices. For the human being is not formed to grow altogether upwards, like plants and deer's horns ; nor yet altogether downwards, like feathers and teeth ; but like muscles, at both ends at once : so that Bacon's double motto for kings, " Remember that thou art a man, remember that thou ait a god, or vice-god," may serve also for children ! Education can neither entirely consist of mere unfolding in general, or, as it is now better called, excitement — for every continued existence unfolds, and every bad educa- tion excites, just as oxygen positively irritates — nor in the unfolding of all the powers, because we can never act upon the whole amount of them at once ; as little as in the body susceptibility and spontaneity, or the muscular and nervous system, can be strengthened at the same time. A purely negative education, such as that of Rousseau only seems to be, would at once contradict itself and reality as much as an organic living body full of powers of growth without means of excitement : even the few wild children who have been captured received a positive education from the raging and flying animals around them. A child's coffin only can represent a negative hedge-school, prince's school, and school-door. The purely natural man — whom Rousseau sometimes, indeed very often, confounds with the ideal man, because both are equally pure and distinct from the mere worldly man — grows entirely by excitement. Rousseau, in the first place, prefers arousing and influencing the child by things rather than by men, by impressions rather than by discourses ; and, in the second, 110 JEAN PAUL FMEDRICH EICHTER. [FRAG. II. recommends a more healthy and useful series of excitements, whilst his predecessors in teaching had hastened to use upon the susceptible nature of children the most powerful excitements, such as God, Hell, and the Kod ! Only give the souls of children free passage from the limbus * patrum et infantum and Nature, he seems to think, will unfold her- self. This, indeed, she does every where and at all times, but only in ages, countries and souls, which possess a marked individuality. § 24. Perhaps we may find the centre and focus of these crossing lines and beams from this point of view : If a modern Greek, without any knowledge of the mighty past, were depicting the present condition of his enslaved race, he would find it approaching the highest step of civilisation, morality and other excellences, until a magic stroke revealed to his astonished eye Greece in the Persian war, or Athens in its glory, or fruitful Sparta, like an empire of the dead, like Elysian fields. What a difference in the same nation, vast as that between gods and men ! Never- theless, those gods are not genii, nor in any way exceptions, but a people, consequently the majority and average of talents. When in history we look round on the heights and mountain ranges where glorified nations dwell, and then down into the abysses where others lie enchained, we say to ourselves, — the heights that a multitude has reached thou also canst reach, if thou canst not descend into the depths. The spiritual existence that a nation, a majority of any people, has embodied and showed forth in glory, must dwell and breathe in every individual, else could he not recognise in it a kindred being. And so, indeed, it is. Every one of us has within him an ideal man which he strives, from his youth upwards, to cherish or to subdue. This holy Soul-spirit every one beholds most clearly in the blooming time of all his powers — in the season of youth. If only every one were distinctly conscious of what he once wished to become, of how differ- ent ar.d much nobler a path and goal his opening eye, compared with his fading one, beheld ! For if we believe * The place whither, according to an old Catholicism, unbaptiaed innocents went after life. CHAP. II.] LEVANA. Ill in any contemporaneous growth of the physical and spiritual man, we must also assume that the blooming season of both occurs simultaneously. Consequently, his own ideal being will appear most clearly to the man (though it be only in vague desires and dreams) in the full bloom of youth. ■ And does not this show itself in the meanest soul which, though fallen during its pilgrimage through sensual and covetous affections, yet once attained a higher hope, and stood within the gates of heaven ? At a later period, in the multitude, the ideal being fades day by day, and the man becomes, sinking and overpowered, the mere j)resent, a creature of necessity and neighbourhood. But the universal complaint, " What might I not have become !" confesses the present existence, or the past existence, of an older Adam in paradise, along with and before the old Adam. But the ideal man comes upon the earth as an anthro- polithe (a petrified man) : to break this stony covering away from so many limbs that the rest can liberate them- selves ; this is, or should be, Education. The same normal being who, in every noble soul, remains as house tutor and silently teaches, should be outwardly manifested in the child, and make itself independent, free, and strong. But first of all we must discover what it is. The ideal man of Fenelon — so full of love and full of strength — the ideal man of Cato the younger — so full of strength and full of love — could never exchange, or meta- morphose themselves into each other, without spiritual suicide. Consequently, education has in CHAPTER II. TO DISCOVER AND TO APPRECIATE THE INDIVIDUALITY OF THE IDEAL MAN. §25. Let a needful breathing space be granted here ! In most languages, like a symbol, the adjective and verb u good " and " be " are irregular. Physical power expresses 112 JEAN PAUL FFIEDRICII RICHTER. [FRAG. II. its superfluity in the variety of genera ; hence the tem- perate zone maintains only 130 distinct quadrupeds, hut the torrid 220. The higher kinds of life separate, according to Zimmermann, into more species ; thus, beyond the five hundred species of the mineral kingdom, lies the animal world with seven million. It is so with minds. Instead of the uniformity of savage nations in different ages and countries, for instance, of the American Indians and the ancient Germans, is seen the many-branched, varied forms of civilised people in the same climate and period : just as the art of gardening multiplies sorts of flowers in different colours ; or time separates a long strip of land in the ocean into islands. In so far a meaning may be attached to the saying of the schoolmen, that every angel is its own species. §26. Every educator, even the dullest, admits this, and imprints on his pupils this reverence for peculiarities, that is, for his own ; at the same time he labours industriously to secure this point — that each be nothing else than his own step-son or bastard self. He allows himself as much individuality as is necessary to eradicate that of others and plant his own in its stead. If, in general, every man is secretly his own copying machine which he applies to others, and if he willingly draws all into ghostly and spiritual relationship with himself as soul's cousins — as, for instance, Homer gladly converted the four quarters of the world into Homerides and Homerists, and Luther into Lutherans — much more will the teacher strive, in the defenceless, unformed souls of children, to impress and reproduce himself ; and the father of the body endeavour to be also the father of the spirit. God grant it may seldom succeed ! And most fortunately it does not pros- per ! It is only mediocrity which supplants that of others by its own; that is, one imperceptible individuality by another equally imperceptible : hence the multitude of imitators. From a wood-cut some thousand impressions may easily be taken ; but from a copperplate only a tithe of that number. It were indeed too pitiable for Europe if it were CHAP. II.] T.EVANA. 113 altogether sown with Tituses, as every Titus secretly wishes, or with Semproniuses, as the Semproniuses desire ! What a thick, dead sea would be floating along from the usuriously-increasing resemblance of teachers and pupils ! § 27. As every teacher, even the rigidest, admits that he highly values two strongly marked individualities — namely, that before the deluge which formed his own, and that own itself — and regards them as the two mountain ranges which give birth to the streams below and the vales of Tempe ; and as, moreover, every self-taught man maintains that every thing remarkable in the world has been created by adding and subtracting, but not by transplanting, individualities, some other illusion than that of mere selfishness must be at the foundation of this disregard of the peculiarities of others. § 28. It is, in truth, the excusable error that confuses the ideal with ideals ; and which, had it lived during the week of creation, would have created all angels, all Eves, or all Adams. But although there is only one Spirit of Poetry, there are many different forms i\± which it can in- corporate itself — comedies, tragedies, odes, and the thin wasp's body of the epigram ; so the same moral genius may become flesh — here as Socrates, there as Luther, here as Phocion, there as John. As no finite can truly reflect the infinite ideal, but only narrowly mirror it back in parts, such parts must necessarily be infinitely various ; neither the dew-drop, nor the mirror, nor the ocean reflect the sun in all its greatness, but they each represent it round and bright. § 29. I — God excepted, who is at once the great original I and Tlwu — is the noblest as well as the most incomprehensible thing which language expresses, or which we contemplate. It is mere at once, like the whole world of truth and i. I 114 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTEE. [FRAG, n conscience, which, without I, is nothing. We must ascribe the same thing to God as to unconscious matter when we think of the being of the one, the existence of the other. A second I is, in other respects, even more inconceivable to us than a first. Every J is a personal existence, consequently a spiritual individuality- — for a bodily one is so extended that a portion of the sky, earth, city must belong to it as a body ; — this personal existence does not consist in Fichte's theory of rendering the J objectively subjective, that is, in the change of the reflection of what was first mirrored, and which every where returning cuts off all number and time, so that nothing is explained by it, no reflection by its counter-reflection. Further, it does not consist in an acci- dental weighing backwards and forwards of single powers ; for, first, to every embodied army a governing and con- trolling master-spirit is indispensable ; and, secondly, all distinct forces in organic connection rise and fall with the weather-glass, age, &c, alongside the unchanging individuality. But it is an inner sense of all senses ; as feeling is the sense common to the four external senses. It is that in others on which our reliance, friendship or enmity rests, and is either an enduring inaptitude, or a capacity for the arts of poetry and thought. As the same incomprehensible organic unity, subjecting to itself disjointed matter, governs and acts differently in plants, in animals, and in their every variety, and multiplies itself in organic per- sonal existence, so also does the higher spiritual unity. The theological question of the schools whether the God- man might not have appeared as a woman, a brute animal, or a gourd, is symbolically affirmed by the infinite variety of individual existences in which the Divine Being manifests himself. It is that which unites all aesthetic, moral and intellectual powers into one soul ; and, like the material of light, itself invisible, gives and determines the many-coloured visible universe, whereby first that philo- sophical pole- word ' practical reason, pure I ' ceases only to stand in the zenith of heaven like a pole-star which marks no north, and consequently no quarter of the world. We should know better how to value and protect this CHAP. II. J LEVANA. 115 spirit of life, this individuality, if it always stood forth as strongly as in the man of genius. For we all perceive how great a defeat of spirits would arise in a passive war of giants ; if, for instance, Kant, Raffaelle, Mozart, Cato, Frederick the Great, Charles the Twelfth, Aristophanes, Swift, Tasso, and so forth, were all forced into the same press, and formed in the same mould. Even one man of genius, by the exchange and compensation of individual peculiarities, could only become another in a manner resembling the forcible union of two polypi. But if the primary faculty of an ordinary nature be broken, what can result from it but a perpetual confused wandering about itself — a half imitation arising in spite of. not out of, itself — a parasitical worm living on another being, the mimic of every new example, the slave of every master at his elbow ? If a human being be once thrown out of his own individuality into a foreign one, the centre of gravity that held together his whole inner world becomes moveable and wanders from spot to spot, and one oscillation passes into another. In the meantime the teacher has to separate from the individuality which he allows to grow another which he must either bend or guide ; the one is that of the head, the other that of the heart. Every intellectual peculiarity, be it mathematical, artistic, philosophical, is a beating heart, which all teaching and gifts only serve as conducting veins to fill with material for working and motion. At this exact point more weight may be added to the preponderating weight of natural disposition ; and the teacher must not give in the morning of life a sleeping draught — say to peculiar talents for art. The moral nature, however, must be quite differently treated ; if that be melody, this is harmony : you must not enfeeble an Euler by engrafting on him a Petrarch, nor the latter by the former ; for no intellectual power can become too great, and no painter too great a painter. But every moral faculty needs to have its boundaries fixed in order to the cultivation of its balancing powers ; and Frederick the Great may take his flute, and Napoleon his Ossian. Here education may, for instance, deliver sermons on peace to the heroic character, and charge with electric thunder the disposition of a Siegwart. So one i 2 116 JEAN PAUL FRIEDKICH EICHTER. [FEAG. II. might — since, with girls, head and heart are reciprocal — frequently put a cooking spoon into the hand of the boy of genius, and into that of the little cook by birth some romantic feather from a poet's wing. For the rest let it be a law that, as every faculty is holy, none must be weakened in itself, but only have its opposing one aroused ; by which means it is added harmoniously to the whole. So, for instance, a weakly affectionate heart must not be hardened, but its sense of honour and purity must be strengthened ; the daring spirit must not be rudely checked and made timid, but only taught to be loving and prudent. The conditions may now be required of me under which is to be formed the character of the child, and also that of the prize or ideal man into which he is to be fashioned. But for that purpose one book among the endless multitude of books would not serve ; moreover the books must possess the rare gift of being interpreters of the dreams and symbols of the closely-folded child's character ; which, in a child, who does not display everything matured as a grown-up man, but only budding, would be as difficult to discover as a butterfly in the chrysalis to all who are not Swammerdams. But alas ! three things are very difficult to discover and to impart — to have a character — to draw one — to guess one. To ordinary teachers a naughty trick seems a wicked nature — a pimple or a pock-mark as parts of the countenance. If one must translate the prize and ideal man into words, one might perhaps say, that it is the harmonious maximum of all individual qualities taken together, which, without regard to the resemblance of the harmony, is yet connected in all its different parts, as one tone in music is with another. Whosoever now, out of the musical abc d efg, should change, for instance, a piece set in a to b, would injure the piece much, but not so much as a teacher who would convert the ail-variously arranged natures of children into one uniform tone. §30. To elevate above the spirit of the age must be re- garded as the end of education; and this must stand CHAP, in.] LEVANA. 117 clearly developed before us ere we mark out the appointed road. The child is not to be educated for the present — for this is done without our aid unceasingly and powerfully — but for the remote future, and often in opposition to the immediate future. The spirit which is to be shunned must be known. Permit me then a THIRD CHAPTER, OX THE SPIRIT OF THE AGE. §31. You invoke the Spirit of the Age freely and boldly, but let it truly appear before us in your discourse, and do you answer? Since time separates into ages, as the rainbow into falling drops, indicate the greatness of the age of whose indwelling spirit you speak. Has it a century of duration ; and by what chronology is it reckoned — the Jewish, the Christian, the Turkish, or the French ? Does not the expression " spirit of the century " easily escape the lips of a man because he, born in a century and partly measuring one with his life, really means nothing more by " age " than the little day-span which the eternal sun describes from the morning to the evening of his life ? — Or does the age extend from one great event (the Reformation, for instance) to another, so that the spirit of the first vanishes as soon as the second is born? And what re- volution will be considered by you the animating one of the age— a philosophical, a moral, a poetical, or a political one Further : is not every spirit of the age less changing than flying, — indeed, already flown ; what might be more properly called the spirit of that immediately preceding ? For its traces presuppose that it is already gone, conse- quently gone further. And only from lofty heights can the backward road be surveyed and the future estimated. But since the same period unfolds at the present time a totally different spirit in Saturn — in his satellites — ir. his 118 JEAN PAUL FEIEDEICH EICHTEE. [FEAG. II. rings — upon all the countless worlds of the present ; and again in London, Paris, Warsaw ; and since it follows that the present moment of time must have a million different spirits of the age, — I would ask you where the invoked spirit of the age is clearly manifested — in Germany, France, or where ? As, before, you found it difficult to mark out its limits in time, so will you now to determine them in space. I partly spare you the great question which concerns every one, yourself among the number, — how you, how all encircled in the same age, can raise yourselves so far above its waves as to be able to observe its course, not merely to feel its dark irresistible march ? And does not the stream which bears you lead into an ocean whose movements you cannot measure because it has no shore ? §32. What we call spirit of the age our ancestors called the end of the world, the latest times, signs of the last day, kingdom of the devil and of Antichrist. Mere melancholy names ! No golden or innocent age ever called itself golden, but only expected one ; and an age of lead expected one of arsenic : — only the past glitters, as ships occasionally draw after them a shining train. But the former interpretations of dreams and gazings into the present — would that some one would collect such a dream book of departed great spirits ! — teach us to mistrust those now made. If man, from the observation of the three quarters of the globe, could not prophetically construct the fourth from the combinations of matter, far less can ho divine a future from the more complicated ones of spirit. For man is feeble and poor : his star-reading of the future — a mere strengthening or weakening of the present — sees only a crescent moon in the sky, -which waxes and wanes in unison with himself, but no sun. Every one regards his own life as the new-year's eve of time, and also, like the superstitious, his dreams, woven from memories, as prophecies for the year. Thence there always comes — not the foretold good or evil, nor yet its opposite, but eomething quite different, which receives the prophecies CHAP. Ill] LEVANA. 119 and their objects as an ocean does the rivers, and resolves them into the circle of its waves. For, in the moment when yon are prophesying in the desert, the fine seed- pollen of an oak falls upon the earth and, in a century, grows up to be a forest. How, indeed, could man accurately divine any approaching age without at the same time knowing and depicting all after times ? He, for instance, who, from the present course and position of the winds, clouds and planets during one academical half year, could accurately guess the weather of a second, might and must be able, from the data he had foretold, to decipher the third season's weather, and from that every succeeding one — supposing no intervention ; — but there do always intervene comets, earthquakes, the clearing of forests, or the growth of new ones, and all the other power of the Almighty. In the same way, before the eye of the seer, one century after another must be produced in regular order, consequently thousands of years, and finally, the whole time which can dwell upon an earth ; supposing as has been already said, nothing intervenes. But, heavens! What is there does not intervene ! The prophet himself — and the freedom of the spiritual world — and the Almighty, who here withdraws and there sends forth spirits and suns. Thus it is that every one lives so completely in a spiritual twilight (a beautiful word for that dusky time of day) that God himself decides which of the two contending lights shall gain the victory by a new one from the sun or the moon, which men so frequently mistake the one for the other. §33. How, indeed, were this foregoing two-and-thirtieth paragraph to be written or to be comprehended, if something more were not added about it ; namely, a three- and- thirtieth which follows after it? The older the world grows, the more complacently can it, and will it, adopt the prophesying character of an elder. From the fore-world a spirit speaks an ancient language to us, which we should not understand if it were not born with us. It is the Spirit of Eternity, which judges and overlooks every spirit of time. And what does it say of the present? 120 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG, n. Very hard words : — It says that the age can now more easily raise up a great people than a great man ; because the powerful union springing from civilisation joins together the men of one spirit like the vapour-drops of a huge steam engine ; so that even war is now only a war- game between two living creatures. Something, it says, must have decayed in our age, for even the mighty earthquake of the Revolution before which for centuries, as before a physical earthquake, an infinite multitude of worms had crept out of the ground and covered it, has produced and left behind it nothing greater than pretty wings on these said worms. The Spirit of Eternity, which judges the heart and the world, strongly declares what spirit is wanting to the present men inspired by the senses, to these fire-worshippers of the passions, — the Holy one of Him who is above the earth. The ruins of His temple sink lower and lower into the present earth. Prayer is thought to draw along with it the false lights of fanaticism. The apprehension and belief in what is beyond the world, which formerly extended its roots under the foulest ages, bear no fruits in our pure thin air. If, formerly, religion was in war, there is now no longer war in religion — there has grown for us out of the world a mighty edifice, out of ether a cloud, out of God a mere power, out of heaven a coffin ! At last the Spirit of Eternity holds up before us our shamelessness, by which we, in our darkness, have per- mitted to play, as a festive illumination, the flames of anger, love and desire, from which all religions, all ancient nations, all great men have held themselves aloof, or regarded with shame : and it says that we, living only in our hate and hunger, like other decaying corpses, only retain our teeth uninjured, the instruments both of revenge and enjoyment. Passion belongs of right to the sickness of the age ; nowhere is found so much impatience, carelessness, indulgence towards self and unrelenting selfishness towards others as on the sick-bed. Now this century lies upon a sick bed. As among the Spartans the men cut away a full prominent breast as something womanish,* so is the same thing done now in spiritual * In Russia in former times it was the fashion for men to stuff out their clothiug into large false breasts. CHAP. III.] LEV ANA. 121 matters under the same pretext ; and the heart must be as hard as the cavity of the chest above it. Finally, there are some very cultivated men who split themselves in opposite directions towards heaven and hell, as a sala- mander cut in two runs forward with its front, backwards with its hind part. § 34. So speaks the severe spirit within us, the Eternal one ; but it becomes milder if we hear it to the end. Every heartfelt lamentation and weeping over any age points, like a spring on a mountain, to some higher mountain or peak : only those nations remain sunk in their lethargy who go in the same dull path from age to age, not lament- ing over themselves but over others : and those who suffer from the mental falling-sickness of the French philosophy have, like bodily epileptics, no consciousness of their malady, but only pride in tlieir strength. Sorrow of the spirit (as Night, according to the Greeks) is the mother of gods ; though that of the body is a dark mist bringing poison and death. The bold and soaring thought of the Talinud- ists— that even God prays; like that of the Greeks, that Jupiter was subject to Fate — receives a meaning from the lofty though often conquered longings of the soul, which the Infinite himself has planted within us. One religion after another fades away, but the religious sense, which created them all, can never become dead to humanity : consequently, it will only manifest and lead its future life in more purified forms. The saying of Tyrtoous,* that God, in the commencement, appeared to men in their own likeness, then as a voice, and afterwards only in dreams and by inspiration (or spiritual illumina- tion), has a beautiful signification for ours, and all future ages, if by dream we understand poetry, and by illumina- tion, philosophy. So long as the word God endures in a language so long will it direct the eyes of men upwards. It is with the Fternal as with the sun, which, if but its smallest part can shine un-eclipsed, prolongs the day and gives its rounded image in the dark chamber. Even in France, which could for a short time observe a total eclipse * Tyrfceus de Apparitione Dei, c. 17. 122 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH EICIITER. [FEAG. II. of the sun, arose a Chateaubriand, a St. Martin and hia admirers, and other kindred spirits. Our present age is indeed a criticising and a critical one, wavering between the desire and the inability to believe, — a chaos of times struggling against one another : but even a chaotic world must have a centre, revolution round that point, and an atmosphere ; there is no such thing as mere disorder and confusion, but even that presupposes its opposite in order to begin. The present religious wars on paper and in the brain — very different from former ones, which were tempests full of heat, rage, devastation and fertilisation — rather resemble the northern lights (thunder and light- ning of the higher and colder quarters of the sky) full of noisy lights without blows, full of strange shapes and full of frost, without rain and in the night. Does not in fact, the bold self-consciousness — the life of this age — extend still further the original character of man and mind ! And can the character of men, the mental waking, ever be too much awake ? At present it is only not sufficiently so ; for an object is necessary to reflection, as its absence is to thoughtlessne>s ; and the common minds of the age are too impoverished to give a rich field to reflection. But there is one strange, ever-returning spectacle : That every age has regarded the dawning of new light as the fire-de- stroyer of morality ; while that very age itself, with heart uninjured, finds itself raised one degree of light above the preceding ! Is it, perhaps, that as light travels faster than heat, and as it is more easy to work upon the head than on the heart, the burst of light, by its suddenness, always appears inimical to the unprepared heart ? To the present age is ascribed productiveness and changeableness of opinions, and at the same time indifference to opinions. But that cannot arise from this : no man in all corrupted Europe can be indifferent to truth as such ; for it, in the last resort, decides upon his life ; but every one is at last become cold and shy towards the erring teachers and preachers of truth. Take the hardest heart and brain which withers away in any capital city, and only give him the certainty that the spirit which ap- proaches brings down from eternity the key which opens and shuts the so weighty gates of his life- prison of death, CHAP, ni.j LEV ANA. 123 and of heaven, — and the dried-up worldly man so long as he has a care or a wish, must seek for a truth which can reveal to him that spirit. The present march of light indicates anything rather than standing still ; and it is only this which begets and immortalizes poison, as it is on stagnant air that tempests and whirlwinds break. Certainly we are very little able to determine in what manner a brighter age than that we have experienced will be educed from the present troublous fermentation. Every varied age, — and therefore our own, — is only a spiritual climate for an approaching spiritual seed ; but we do not know what foreign seed heaven will cast into it. Every sin appears new and near, as in painting black stands out most strongly ; man is readily accustomed to the repetition of love, but not to the repetition of injustice. Thence every one regards his own age as morally worse, and intellectually better than it really is; for in science the new is an advance ; but in morals the new, as a contra- diction to our inner ideals and our historic idols, is ever a retrogression. As the errors of nations in past ages, unlike decorative paintings, seem very distorted and shapeless, because distance hides from us their finer and true com- pleteness ; so, on the other side, the black sin-stains of the past, of the Eoman and Spartan for example, show softened and rounded, and, as on a moon, the high rugged shadow of the past falls round and transparent on the present. For instance, if men estimate the worth of the age after a war. that most ancient barbarism of humanity, and especially after the bad innovations consequent upon it, then the spirit of the age rises before this touch of death in frightful illumination and distortion. But war, as the general storm in the moral world, and the tongue and heart-confusing Babel of the physical world, had in every age repeated injustices which only appeared new because each had heard from the preceding age nothing save the number of the vanquished armies and towns ; but experienced in itself the sufferings. On the contrary, our age has, more than any other, besides a certain humanity of war in respect to life, also a growing insight into its unlawfulness. Among nations the head has at all times preceded the 124 JEAN FAUL FKIEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. II. heart by centuries, as in the slave trade ; yes, by thousands of years, as will perhaps be the case in war. § 35. Since modes of life beget modes of thought, and opinions actions, and head and heart, spiritually as well as physically, mutually improve or injure each other, so has fate, when both are to be healed at once, only one cure, and that a long one ; the harsh viper-like cure of affliction. If sorrow purify men, why not nations ? Certainly, and it is for this reason that men perceive it less, if wounds and fast-days improve the one, battle-fields and centuries of penance do the other, and generations must sink sadly and sorrowfully to destruction. Not by a splendid martial funeral with firing of cannon, but by a battle of the elements, is the sky made blue and the earth fruitful. At the same time in history, as in the almanac, the thick dull St. Thomas's day is shorter than the bright warm St. John's day, although both conduct into new seasons of the year. But until, and in order that our children and children's children may pass through the winter centuries, this it is that nearly affects us and education. We must meet the great entanglement by partial unravellings. The child rnust be armed against the future ; yes, even against the close pressing present, with a counterbalancing weight of three powers against the three weaknesses of the will, of love, and of religion. Our age has only a passionate power of desire, like the brute, the madman, the sick, and each weakest thing ; but not that energy of will which was most nobly displayed in Sparta and Rome — in the Stoa, and in the early Church. And now the arts, as the stato formerly did, must harden the young spirit and subdue the will. The uniform colour of a stoic oneness must extinguish the vulgar praise of the various tiger-spots and serpent brilliancy of passionate agitation ; the girl and the boy must learn that there is something in the ocean higher than its waves ; namely, a Christ who calls upon them. When the stoic energy of will is formed, there is then a loving spirit made free. Fear is more egoist' c than CHAP. IV. J LEVANA. 125 courage because it is more needy ; the exausting parasitical plants of selfishness only attach themselves to decayed trunks. Put power kills what is feeble, as strong decoction of quassia kills flies. If man, created more for love than for opposition, can only attain a free clear space, he possesses love; and that is love of the strongest kind, which builds on rocks, not on waves. Let the bodily heart be the pattern of the spiritual ; easily injured, sensitive, lively, and warm, but yet a tough free-beating muscle behind the lattice work of bones, and its tender nerves are difficult to find. As there is no contest about the nature of power and love, but only about the ways to attain them (these, however, penetrate deep into the matter) ; but as about religion, on the contrary, the doubts of many must first be solved as to whether there be only one, and whether different paths lead to it ; so the third point, according to which the child is to be educated against the age, must aim at placing before the soul first, not the means, but the right to educate religiously. Power and love are two opposing forces of the inner man ; but religion is the equal union of both, the man within the man. CHAPTER IV. RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. § 36. Religion is now no longer a national, but a household goddess. Our little age is a magnifying glass, through which, as is well known, the exalted appears flat and level. Since we now send all our children out into a town- like futurity, in which the broken church bells only dully call the populous market place to the silent church, we must, more anxiously then ever, seek to give them a house of prayer in the heart, ami folded hands, and humility before the invisible world, if we believe in a religion and distinguish it from morality. 126 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. II. The history of nations determines that there is this separation. There have been many religions, hut there is only one code of morals ; in those a god has always become a man, and, therefore, been concealed under many folds ; in this a man has become God, and been clearly manifested. The middle ages had, along with moral churchyards full of dead bodies and rank vegetation, full of cruelty and lust, also churches and spires for the religious sentiment. In our times, on the contrary, the sacred groves of religion are cleared and trodden down, and the public roads of morality made straighter and more sure. Ah ! a con- temporaneous decline of religion and morality would be too sad ! The age will conceal the departure of me sense for the heavenly by the greater sharpness and severity of that for the mcral ; and at least by small, delicate, and therefore more numerous sides, acquire a moral breadth. As men in towns, where they cannot build in width build in height, so we, reversing the matter, build in width instead of in height ; more over the earth than into the sky. We may truly say that France, in general, with its chemical, physical, mathematical and warlike noon-day lights, can hardly behold in the starry heaven of religion more than a last shadowy quarter of the moon, resembling rather a cloud than a star ; whilst in England and Germany religion is still at least seen as a distant milky- way, and on paper as a star chart ; but one could not, without injustice, describe the religious difference of these countries as a moral one. Was, therefore, and is Stoicism, this noble son of morality, as love is its daughter, in and by itself religion ? If the difference between religion and morality were not founded on something true, it were in- comprehensible how so many fanatical sects of the early and later centuries — for instance, the Quietists — could have arrived at the illusive belief that in the inmost enthusiastic love of God enduring sinfulness consumes itself, so that none remains as it does in the worldly man. It is true that religiousness, in its highest degree, is identical with morality, and this with + hat ; but that equally pertains to the highest degree of every power; and every sun wanders only through the heavenly ether. All that is divine must as certainly meet and unite with morality, as QHAP. IV.J LEVANA. 127 science and art ; so that in every soul rescued from sin there must as certainly he religious Tahors as there are hills in the crater of Etna. It must be understood that we do not here speak of that beggar religion which only prays and sings before the gates of heaven until the Peter's pence are bestowed upon it. §37. What then is Religion ? Prayerfully pronounce the answer. The Belief in God. It is not only a sense for the holy, and a belief in the invisible, but a presentiment of it, without which no kingdom of the incomprehensible were conceivable. Efface God from the heart, and every- thing whieh lies above or below the earth is only a recur- ring enlargement of it ; that which is above the earth would become only a higher grade of mechanism and, consequently, earthly. If the question be put, What do you mean by the word God ? I will let an old German, Sebastian Frank,* answer: " God is an unutterable sigh lying in the depths of the soul." A beautiful, profound saying ! Hut as the unutterable dwells in every soul, it must be manifested to every stranger by words. Let me give to the God-fearing Spirit of every age the words of our times, and listen to what it says of religion. " Eeligion is, in the beginning, the learning of God ; — hence the great name Divine, one learned about God — truly religion is the blessedness arising from a knowledge of God. Without God we are lonely throughout eternity ; but if we have God we are more warmly, more intimately, more steadfastly united than by friendship and love. I am then no longer alone with my spirit. Its great first Friend, the Everlasting, whom it recognises, the inborn Friend of its innermost soul will abandon it as little as it can do itself, and in the midst of the impure or empty whirl of trifles and of sins, on the market-place and the battle- field, I stand with closed breast in which the Almighty and All-holy speaks to me, and reposes before me like a near sun, behind which the outer world lies in darkness. * " Zinkrefs der Teutschen sekarpfsinnige kluge Spriicke," 1639. 128 JEAN PAUL FEIEDEICH EICHTEE. [FEAG. IE. I have entered into His church, the temple of the universe, and remain therein blessed, devout, pious, even if the temple should become dark, or cold, or undermined by graves. What 1 do, or suffer, is no sacrifice for Him, it counts as little as one made to myself; I love Him whether I suffer or not. The flame from heaven falls on the altar of sacrifice and consumes the beast, but the flame and the priest remain. If my great Friend demand something f com me the heaven and the earth seem glorious to me, and I am happy as He is ; if He deny me anything, it is a storm en the ocean, but it is spanned by rainbows, and I recognise above it the kindly sun which has no tempestuous sides, but only sunshiny ones. A code of morality only rules bad, unloving souls, in order that they may first become better and afterwards good. But the loving con- temnlation of the soul's first Friend, who abundantly animates those laws, banishes not merely the bad thoughts which conquer, but these also which tempt. As the eagle flies high above the highest mountains, so does true love above struggling duty. " AVhere religion is, there both men, and beasts, and the whole world are loved. Every being is a moving temple of the Infinite. Everything earthly purifies and suns itself in the thought of Him ; only one earthly thing remains darkly existent, sin, the true annihilation of the soul ; or the unceasing Tantalus, Satan. " One may with some right speak to others about that of which one never speaks to oneself : for within me He is so near me that I can with difficulty separate His word and mine ; for from the second self my own is reflected, and I only find Him who illumines myself as well as the dew-drop. " But if it be no error to believe all this, how wilt Thou, God ! appear to those who have overcome the agitations of life in the one still hour of death ; then, when world after world, human being after human being, has dis- appeared, and nothing but the Eternal remains with tho mortal-immortal ? He who brings God with him into the last darkest night cannot know what it is to die ; for he beholds the Eternal Star in the boundless distance." If you do not believe that religion is the poetry of CHAP. IV. J LEY AN A. 129 morality, the lofty, nay, the loftiest, style of life, think less of the mystic enthusiasts, who, as despisers of the doctrine of happiness, were willing to he damned if hut the love of God remained within them, than of Fenelon : could you he purer, more steadfast, richer, more self-sacri- ficing, or more hlessed than he, at once child, woman, man, and angel ? §38. 1 1 ow then is the child to he led into the new world of religion ? Not by arguments. Every step of finite know- ledge can be reached by learning and perseverance ; but the Infinite, which supports the end of those steps, can only be seen at a glance, not reached by counting; we arrive there by wings, not by steps. To prove, as to doubt, the existence of God, is to prove or to doubt the existence of existence. The soul seeks its Original — not merely an original world near the present one — that freedom from which finite existence received its laws : but it could not seek if it did not know and did not possess. The greatness of religion is not confined to one opinion, it extends over the whole man ; as greatness, of whatever kind, resembles the rock -bound mountains, one of which is never found alone in a level plain, but rises up among neighbouring heights and extends into a mountain range. As there is no corporeal world without a spiritual soul (or no resurrection-ashes without a phoenix), so there is no soul or spiritual world without God ; just as in the same way there is no fate without a Providence. The purest distinction of man from the lower animals is neither reflection nor morality ; for sparks at least of these stars shine in the ranks of the brute creation : but religion, which is neither merely opinion nor disposition, but the heart of the inner man, and therefore the ground- work of the rest. In the middle ages, so dark for other knowledge, religion, like the sky at night, hung nearer to the earth and extended brightly over it ; whereas, to us, God like the sun in the day-time, seems only like the key-stone of the arch of heaven. The old chronicler introduces bloody rain — monsters — fights of birds — children's garner — flights of locusts — yes, even sudden deaths — among the 1. K 130 JEAN PAUL FEIEDEICH EICHTER. [FRAG. II. great events of the world, as important signs, as the smoke clouds of an impending war ; and war, a still more impor- tant sign, had, as a judgment upon sin, its heavenly as well as its earthly origin. At the same time this paral- lelism, or rather predetermined harmony between earth and heaven, was at least more consistent than the new physical influence which allows not the day watch of one man hut the thousand-yeared watch of the history of the world to he fixed hy a God, resembling a theatrical one, only that he is not a mock sun, but a real sun ; as if the difference between the earthly and the heavenly rested only on degrees of greatness ; and as if the admission or exclusion ol the Infinite did not equally apply to the whole of the finite universe and to its smallest part ! He who possesses religion finds a Providence not more truly in the history of the world than in his own family history : the rainbow, which hangs a glittering circle in the heights of heaven, is also formed by the same sun in the dew-drop of a lowly flower. The diffident modesty of present individuals who prefer leaving the care of them- selves to blind fate, rather than to watchful Providence, testifies less to unbelief and self-depreciation than to the consciousness of not believing and acting piously. Herder proves that all nations have received writing and their earliest forms of civilisation from the teachings of religion ; but does he not thereby prove something- further ? — namely, this : That in nations and consequently in men, the ideal is older than the real ? — that so the child is nearer the highest than the lowest, for that lies in him ; and that we reckon time by the stars and the sun earlier than by the town clock ; and that the Godhead, as once in paradise, so now in the desert, impresses His image on man before he can discolour it, and so afterwards he can never lose or be without it ? Every thing holy is before what is unholy ; guilt presupposes innocence, not the reverse ; angels, but not fallen ones, were created. Hence man does not properly rise to the highest, but first sinks gradually down from it, and then afterwards rises again : a child can never be considered too innocent and good. It is thus that the Infinite Being appears to nations and in- dividuals earlier than the finite, yea than infinite space : CHAP. IV.] LEVANA. 1H1 as the almighty power of 3 T crang nature produced, according to Schelling, the fixed suns earlier than the worlds which roll round them. If a whole system of religious meta- physics did not dreamingly sleep within the child, how could the mental contemplation of infinity, God, eternity, holiness, &c, be imparted to him, since we cannot com- municate it by outward means, and indeed have nothing for that purpose but words, which have not the power of creating, but only of arousing ? The dying and the faint- ing hear inward music which no outward object gives ; and ideas are such inward tones.* In general even the questions, that is the objects of proper metaphysics, are among children, as among the uneducated classes, much more active and common than one supposes, only under different names ; and the four-year old child will ask, what lies behind the curtains of the hidden world, whence is the origin of God? &c. For instance, in children talking together, the author heard his five-year old boy philosophise and say, " God has made every thing, so if one offers Him any thing He has made it ; " whereupon his four-year old sister said, "He makes nothing;" and he answered, "He makes nothing, because He has made it." A gain ; the seven-year old sister maintained, if the soul in the head had another set of arms, legs and a head, another soul must dwell in that, and this again would have a head, and so on for ever.f If Kousseau give up God, and consequently religion, as the late inheritance of a matured age, he can, except in the case of great souls, expect no more religious inspiration and love than a Parisian father, who, after the fashion of some nations, never sees his son till he no longer needs a father, can expect filial affection.^ When, indeed, could * So the fear of ghosts, this unceasing dread, which without any outward cause — by that only corporeal fear is produced— obtains the mastery, and makes men stiff and cold. t While writing this, the above mentioned four, now six-year old 3hild said, " Counting has a one and begins, and what begins must also leave off." At last she showed me a stick and asked — " Does it not leave off on all sides?" + At least Mercier says that the fashionable Parisians, even tlic- wonien, do not see their children, who are brought up in tl.e country until they are fully grown. K 2 132 JEAN PAUL tRIEDRI H RICHl'ER. | FRAG. II. the Most Holy take deeper root than in the m Dst holy age of innocence, or that which shall have eternal influence, than in the age which never forgets '*. Not the clouds of the fore or afternoon, but the overcast or blue sky of the morning, decides upon the fairness of the day. But as the first rule to be observed by any one who will give something is, that he must himself have it; so it is true, that no one can teach religion who has it not : mature hypocrisy, or lip -religion, can beget nothing but immature ; such a mock-sun can neither warm nor give light, and an acoustic deception returns every optic one. He who has no God in heaven and in his own heart can, without immorality, believe himself bound by no morality ( though perhaps for the sake of utility) to implant in his children a nothing which he has already torn from himself and which he afterwards intends to eradicate from them. But, properly, neither belief in the morality of a religious lie, nor in its political advantages, sows deceit in the trusting open heart of childhood; that is only done by the selfish weakness which willingly makes terms at once with God and the devil ; that argumentum a tuto * (a keeping open of a back-door into heaven, worthy, but for its wound- ing of reason and morality, of a very opposite name) does not rank, thank God ! among the sins of our age. The younger a child is the less let him hear the Un- speakable named, who only by a word becomes to him the speakable : but let him behold His symbols. The sublime is the temple step of religion, as the stars are of immeasur- able space. When what is mighty appears in nature — a storm, thunder, the starry firmament, death — then utter the word God before the child. A great misfortune, a great blessing, a great crime, a noble action, are building- sites for a child's church. Show every where to the child, as well as on the borders of the holy land of religion, devotional and holy sentiments ; these pass over and at last unveil for him the object; just us if you are alarmed he is so too, without knowing why. Newton, who uncovered his head when the Greatest Name was uttered, would have been, without saying a word, a teacher of religion to children. Not with them, but only * The Safety and Exigency Creed. CHAP. IV.] LEVANA. 133 before them, should you pray your own prayers, that is, think aloud of God ; but their own you should pray with them. A stated exaltation and emotion is a desecrated one. The prayers of children are empty and cold, and are in fact only remains of the Jewish-Christian belief in sacrifices which will reconcile and "win the favour of God by means of innocent beings, not of innocence ; and the child secretly regards the God whom you give him by word of mouth as the Kamtschatkadale and every savage does his. A grace before meat must make every child deceitful. Aa he grows older let a day of prayer, or of any religious observances, become more rare, but on that account more solemn ; what the first affecting Lord's Supper is to the child, that let every hour be in which you consecrate his heart to religion. Let children go to church but rarely, for you might as well take them to hear an oratorio of Klopstock or of Handel, as that of the church ; but when you do take them, impress on them the value of a sympathy with the devotional sentiments of their parents. Indeed, I would rather — since as yet there is no special public worship of God and no special preachers for children — you should lead them on the great days of the seasons, or of human life, merely into the empty temple, and show them the holy place of their elders. If you add to that, twilight, night, the organ, singing, a father's preaching, you will at least leave behind on the young- heart more religious consecration by that one church-going than you could on an old one by a whole year of church- attending. After these considerations it makes one's heart ache to think of that already nearly abandoned custom, which some however kindly wish back,* I mean that of setting the children and young people to take down the sermon, at least an outline of it, in church and afterwards to write it out fully at home or at school. Although this nearly borders on jest, we will ask in earnest, whether this must not convert the religious sincerity of fellow-feeling into a mere anatomy and skeleton, and draw down what is holy and the aspiration of the heart into a means of exercising the understanding, and hold every emotion at a * Professor Petri in the new " Bibliothek fur Piidagogik," &i\, July, 1811, who appeals to Reinkard's Youthful example t..ereanent 134 JEAN PAUL FRiEDRICH KICHTEE. [FRAG. II. distance because feeling might hinder writing? It were, I erhaps, something about as good if a young woman made a short pragmatic abstract of her lover's declaration of love ; or a soldier, of the fiery speech of his leader before oattle ; or an evangelist, a neat exposition of Christ's sermon on the mount with all its subdivisions. When teachers thus convert all the highest ends into new means and ways, that is to say backways, do they not spiritually use spiritual things, as the modern Eomans really do triumphal arches and temples of Jupiter, which they degrade into wash-houses ? For the poor children of the people, whose parents are still pupils of the Sunday, and for whom, as a set-off to the deep desert of the week, a raising hand must not fail to lift them out of their low cloudy heaven, is a public church service more necessary than for the children of the upper classes. The church walls, the pulpit, the organ, are to them the symbols of the Divine ; and as a symbol it is indifferent whether it be the village church or the temple of nature. And do we ourselves know where, or if ever, the Unsearchable can terminate the ascending scale of His symbols '^ Does not the higher spirit require again a higher symbol ? Let the eye of the pupil, even where he only sees outer walls and forms, yet every where gaze into the Holy ot Holies of religion, which the church-goer must bring with him into the church as the temple-court of the heart. Let every foreign exercise of religion, and every outward preparation for it. be as holy to him as his own. Let the Protestant child h \ld the Catholic saints' images by the road-side to be as worthy of reverence as the ancient oak-forests of his forefathers ; let him receive different religions as lovingly as different languages, in which but one spirit of humanity is expressed. Every genius is all-powerful in his own language, every heart in its own religion. But let not fear create the God of childhood : fear was itself created by a wicked spirit ; shall the devil become the grandfather of God ? He who seeks something higher in its own nature, not merely in degree, than what life can give or take away, CHAP. I V.J LEV ANA. 135 that, man has religion, though he only believe in infinity, not in the Infinite, only in eternity, without an Eternal ; as if, in opposition to other artists, he did not paint the sun with a human countenance, but rounded off this to resemble the former. For he who regards all life as holy and wonderful, whether it dwell in animals, or, still lower, in plants ; he who, like Spinoza, by means of his noble soul floats and rests less upon steps and heights than upon wings, whence the surrounding universe — the stationary and that moving by law — changes into one immense Light, Life and Being, and surrounds him, so that he feels absorbed in the great light and wishes to be nothing but a ray in the immeasurable splendour ; such a man has, and consequently imparts, religion ; since the highest ever reflects and paints the highest, even though formless, behind the eye. True unbelief relates to no individual propositions, or counter-propositions, but to blindness towards the whole. Excite in the child the all-powerful perception of the whole, in opposition to the selfish perception of the parts, and then you raise the man above the world, the eternal above the transitory. Place in the child's hand our religious book ; but do not give the explanation after, but before the reading, so that the strange form may enter the young soul as something entire. Why should misunderstanding be the precursor of understanding ? Without wonder there is no faith ; and the belief in the marvellous is itself an inward faith. You must impart a sun-beam of its origin to every thing great which conies before you, — to genius, to love, to every power; only things weak and curved consist of steps, stairs and torture-ladders ; the true ladder of heaven has no steps. At least two miracles, or revelations, remain for you uncontested in this age which deadens sound with un- reverberating materials; they resemble an Old and a New Testament, and are these — the birth of finite being, and the birth of life within the hard wood of matter. For in one inexplicable thing every other is involved, and one miracle annihilates the whole philosophy. Consequently, you do not act the part of a hypocrite when you permit the child to draw any thing out of the book of religion, oi 136 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICB RICHTEB. [FRAG. II. the secret book of nature, which you cannot explain. Living religion grows not by the doctrines, but by the narratives, of the Bible ■ the best Christian religious doctrine is the life of Christ ; and, after that, the suffer- ings and deaths of his followers, even those not related in Holy Writ. In the fair spring of the religious admission of the child among his elders, an important one, since then first he comes publicly before the altar and acts with all the rights of an independent being; in this never-recurring time when the dawn of life suddenly breaks into the morning red, and thereby announces the newness of love and of nature ; there is no better priest to lead and accompany the young soul with dancing and great joy to the high altar of religion, than the poet who annihilates a mortal world to build on it an immortal ; so that our life on earth may resemble those polar lands which, so void of animals and flowers, so cold and colourless, yet, after sunless days, display rich nights in which heaven pours down its gifts upon the earth, and where the northern or polar lights fill the whole blue with fire-colours, jewels, thunder, splendid tropical storms, and remind the inhabitants of the cold earth of that which lives above them. ( 137 ) THIRD FRAGMENT. Crap. I. Digression upon the beginning of Man and of Education. § 39—42. Chap. II. Joyousness of Children, § 43 — 45. Chap. Ill Their Games, § 46—54. Chap. IV. Their Dances, § 55—57 Chap. V. Music, § 58—60. Chap. VI. Commanding, Forbidding, § 61—63. Chap. VII. Punishments, § 64, 65. Cuap. VIII. Pas- sionate Crying of Children, § 66 — 70. Chap. IX. On the Trust- fulness of Children, § 71, 72. CHAPTER I. THE BEGINNING OF EDUCATION. §39. When does Education begin its work? With the first breath of the child but no sooner. The Light of the Soul, which we call Life, issuing from I know not what sunny cloud, strikes upon the bodily world and moulds the rough mass into its dwelling place, which glows on until Death, by the nearness of another world, allures it still further on. In this primitive moment — for from it the pulse reckons its first beat, even though time be else- where already — is the invisible beam of individual exist- ence broken into the coloured spectrum of his bodily appear- ance : the dispositions, the sex, yes, even the resemblance to the father's and mother's countenances are distinguished by yet unseen lines. For the unity of the organism, of this state within the world, that is, the embodied system of laws, cannot form itself piece-meal like the in- dividual parts which it governs : for example, the form- ing influence, which moulds the transparent child's face like its father's or its grandfather's, cannot lie in the nine-months' fancies of the mother, but must exist in the child itself. 138 JEAN PAUL FEIEDKICH RICHTEE. [FRAG. III. The two life-chains of the parents are somewhat different ; especially the last link, from which the spark of the new man issued in order to animate the physical clod of earth into an Adam. When one considers how little has yet been done for the races of the coming world (except in the case of horses, sheep and canary birds) not even observations, to say nothing of institutions, merely for a cradle rather than for the child in the cradle ; — how the connexions of the sexes, of years, of months, of hours, are so lawlessly and carelessly forgotten and injured when the foundation stones of centuries are laid ; — how here the giddy, sensual man requires more laws than the unchanging beast which moves straight on in the leading strings of instinct and of health, and when one considers how the divergence — growing by means of culture wider and wider — from savages an 1 aborigines, who still re- tained the advantages of beasts, has doubled lawlessness and ignorance of law — and how the world becomes con- tinually more clamorous in desire, more indifferent to wisdom ; one must, from a carelessness for moral requisi- tions, which contents itself only with the bare fulfilment of the ten commandments for ruffians, finally come to the conclusion, that men seek to settle with morality as with a creditor. It is true that the noble-hearted instructor Schwarz would maintain that the Holy Spirit takes cog- nizance of the future for sin in the highest love ; but he is right only for the highest first love ; and only in the case of want of thought or knowledge. A physician, for example, on the other hand, has not this want of know- ledge. And may not a state, at any rate, like an elder, prescribe for all, with its cold ever-during hand, laws which a loving individual would never have thought of making, and yet is obliged to obey ; just as the law- book, not a pair of lovers, contemplates divorce. For the rest we may well venture to complain that Nature, during the "twelve holy nights" in which, as creatress she wanders alone with her youngest creatures, makes it too difficult even for the conscientious not to steal and murder in the dark. At every step down the deep gloomy ladder of futurity up which men and ages ascend, conscience calls " Here is a man, there perhaps a genius, CHAP. I.] LEVANA. 139 the heaven of his people ;" but we, like night wanderers, must spare the known and injure the unknown. Since parents play so prominent a part in the history of the creation of the child's body, one can with difficulty refrain from the question, how much they contribute to the theogony (divine generation) of the child's spirit? If we must think of a dark problem it is also permitted, nay necessary, for us to think of some solution. The mental dissimilarity of dispositions is a mere product of bodily differences, since both mutually presuppose each other. It is, indeed, easier for us to apprehend difference in bodies than in minds ; but properly, there is only an apparent difference of quantity visible in those, and only a real one of quality in these ; so, it is onhy minds which grow or inure themselves to anything. If it will not be admitted that that spark of distinguishing individuality flies down from the stars in clouds during conception, it must then, either, precisely in the moment of inducting its human covering, cast off a previous covering spun from the father's or the mother's life, or it was, like thought and motion, born of soul. Creation of spirits is not more difficult to comprehend than creation of thoughts by spirits, or than any other change. In both cases, especially in the second, not only does the bodily life of the parents cradle the bodies of the future, but also their spiritual life its spirits. But, then, with what trembling should this balance be held ! If thou knewest that every black thought of thine, or every glorious independent one, separated itself from thy soul and took root without thee, and for half a century pushed and bore its poisonous flowers or healing roots, oh ! how piously wouldest thou choose and think ! — And dost thou, then, so certainly know the reverse ? §40. I come back to my own opinion that spiritual education begins at birth ; for up to that period the mother — as often afterwards in a worse sense — has only a blood relationship, not a nerve relationship, with the child sleeping at the gates of the world. So that all that ih false which has been said about an electric charging chaix 140 JEAN PAUL FKIEDKICH KICHTER. [FEAG. IIT. to which the little invisible is attached, and by which be is charged with the streams and sparks of the maternal passions and feelings. Since, according to the best anatomists, the mother does not nourish the child with her blood directly, but through media, the maternal passions which are to affect it through the blood can only work in two ways, either by mechanical change, slow or quick, or by chemical change, oxidised or unoxidised. The embryo soul does not partake of the mechanical change ; because the mother's blood may move as fast in the ball-room of love as in the servant's hall of anger ; or creep as slowly when sitting full of hope before the embroidery frame, as of despair before a bier. The chemical change of the blood by passion, or other external excitement, is itself, in the first instance, a product of the mind and of the nerves which serve it either mediately or immediately. The excitement of the nerves gives the full beat of the pulse, but the converse is not the case ; else the excitement of a race would have as strong an effect as a drink has upon thirst. How the oxidised or unoxidised blood of the mother can more affect the child's mind than her own, must arise from the influence of the blood as nourishment ; and as the blood, before it is capable of affording nourishment must be assimilated by the little foreign body, it can possess no influence dif- ferent from that of every other nourishment : and, in nourishing, as little propagates its differences as does the blood of sheep or of lions. The objections made by nurses go far in justification of this. The best proof of this physiological chain of argument is its superfluousness, for experience demonstrates it. For were it true, that the mother had a more spiritual influence on shiftless naked human creatures than that which nourishes them ; what a sorry humanity would be sent out into the world from the nine-months' training institute, where on the mother's side all the spiritual and physical defects of female nature are brought together in the nine months and in the time of travail : while on the side of the children the brain and the susceptibility to impressions are greatest, and thereby every fancy of the mother must develop itself in the magnifying glass CHAP. I.J LEVANA. 141 of the victim, as outward form in the child, and every pain as distortion. Heaven ! if the loathing at food and people, the un- natural longing, the fear, the weepings and the feebleness communicated themselves thus spiritually; so that the mother's womb were the first " foundling hospital " and "deaf-and-dumb" institute for souls, and effeminacy the constitutional sanatarium for men, what a sickly, timid, feeble after-race of progenerated child-bearers. Not a man would then be left — each one would have lived, tvept, longed and come to nothing. But this is just as it is not : woman gives men, as the .soft cloud gives thunder and hail : the first-born and natural children, by whom the mothers suffer the most, are in fact the strongest : the children of the criminals, the nervous, the consumptive, the mourning widows, or even of the fictitious ones who live for the prospect of divorce, prove themselves just as strong in intellect as the children of other mothers who dance on from joy to joy. If the mother, spiritually copying herself — impressed herself so strongly and spiritually upon the child's soul, 1 do not know whence originates the distinctive character of children of the same mother : each child must be a mental copier in duplicate of his brothers and sisters and the whole nursery a mental casting-foundry for the mother. As otherwise concerns the body, that of each child is formed in the very same mother's womb and in an equal period, and with all similarity of condition on the part of the mother — the male twin (to take this case) growing to greater strength and the female to less. He who takes physical abortions for the volcanic outcome of heated fancies on the part of the pregnant mother, forgets that the great Haller denies the whole thing, and adduces the mis-growths of animals and plants in respect to which, to plants especially, heated fancies are little to be regarded : whereunto I add — that amongst 10,000 brooding mothers each one of whom for nine months might have been terrified by an equal number of distorted forms, scarcely one brings into the world anything that is not suited to the world. Tell me not that the beautiful Madonna faces 142 JEAN PAUL FP.1EDEICH PJCHTER. [FRAG. III. seen in Catholic countries are to be regarded as copies of those painted in the churches ; or that the Greeks hung beautiful pictures in the chambers of those blessed, in order to procure living types from them ; for I reply, do not all these circumstances indicate antecedently the productions of beautiful lands and beautiful men ; and further does not the life-long impression of many forms of beauty recoin with more strength than that of nine months the humanity current in the world ? At the same time, the disbelief that the nine-months' mother decides on the mental and physical form of her child leaves room for the true belief that her health or sickness is repeated in the little second being : and it is for this very reason that superstitious fancies about marks, mis-births and similar things ought to be so much guarded against ; not because what is dreaded brings its fulfilment, but because it, along with those evils which are produced by alarm before a thing occurs and undue anxiety after it has happened, weakens the body, and brings for the sufferer years of trouble. §41. At last the child can say to the father — Educate, for I breathe. The first breath, like the last, closes an old with a new world. The new is, in this case, the world of light and colour's the life on earth, like a painter, begins with the eye. The ear, indeed, preceded it — so that it is the first sense of the living as it is the last of the dying — but then it belonged to the realm of feeling ; and it is on this account that birds in the egg, and soft many-punctured silkworms die from a loud report. The first sound, falls with a darker chaos on the closely covered soul than the first beam of light. So the morning of life opens on the freed prisoner with the two senses imparting knowledge of distance, like the morning of the day with light and song, or bustle. At the same time, light continues to be the first enamel of the earth, the first fair word of life. The sound which breaks upon the slumbering ear can be but loud, but none near the labouring mother causes it, but her own travail, and the child ; and so the world of ( CHAP. 1 ] LEVANA. 143 sound begins with a discord, but the world of sight with beauty and glory. Every first thing continues for ever with the child ; the first colour, the first music, the first flower paint the fore- ground of his life ; yet we can prescribe no other law than this, Protect the child from all that is impetuous and violent, and even from sweet impressions. Nature, so soft, defenceless and excitable, may be distorted by one error, and hardened into a growing deformity. For this reason the crying of children, if composed of a union of discord, hastiness, imperiousness and passion, ought to be guarded against by all due means, but not by effeminacy which only increases it. §42. If in the ocean of a human soul sections may be made, and degrees of longitude and latitude ascribed to it, we must, in the case of a child, make the first section of the first three years, during which, from the want of the power of speech, he still lives in the animal cloister, and only approaches us through the speech-grating of natural signs. In this speechless period, of which we shall now treat, the pupils are quite given up to feminine fluency ; but how women ought now to educate can only be seen later on, when we inquire how they themselves ought to have been educated. In this period of twilight, in thit first moon's quarter, or eighth of life, let the light only grow of itself, do not kindle it. Here the sexes are un- separated, neither divided by the Platonic Aristophanes, nor by the tailor. The whole human being is as yet a closed bud whose blossom is concealed. Like the eggs of birds, whether of song or of prey, and like the new-born young of the dove or of the vulture, all at first require warmth, not nourishment, which might have a very different effect. And what, then, is warmth for the human chicken? — Happiness. One has but to give them play room, by taking away what may be painful, and their powers shoot up of themselves. The new world which the suckling brings with him, and the new one which he finds around him, enfold him as learning, or develop themselves as know- ledge; and neither world yet requires the ploughing or 14:4 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. | FRAG. III. sowing of stranger hands. Even the artificial gymnastics of the senses, which will teach a year-old child to see and hear and hold, are not much more necessary than the leading strings which show him how to walk ; and can the advantage of teaching some use of the senses, say in three months, which would have come of itself in four, be a recompense for neglecting and wearying oneself in the first year and with the first child, to the injury of after years and the next children, about something which unconstrained life necessitates in savages and country people ? The excellent Schwarz, in his Treatise on Education, prompts, by his proposition of an early gymnasium for all the senses, to an appendix to this paragraph. As to the material advantage of these school classes for the five senses, it is certain that rich varied life, by its unceasing influence, educates and practises the senses with a power which does not require the poverty of particular institu- tions for practice, except you wish to convert the whole child into one single sense — into a painter's eye, or a musician's ear. ( )n the other hand, these practices have a formal utility in constraining the mind to perceive the finer subdivisions of its sensations, and to measure the world more accurately by lines than by yards. In the mean time, the inner world offers itself to a finer and higher school than the outward. Especially leave out all exercises of the sense of taste, for whose haut gout the kitchen is the best school ; since we do not need by its means to distinguish between nourishment and poison, but rather teach by its exercise at rich tables to confound the two, so that we, unlike the beasts who only when young, from unpractised taste, crop injurious weeds, when old, from refined taste, long for poison-dishes, and poison-goblets. Let there be here not so much a degression as a ^re- gression concerning the order of development of the senses. Schwarz, in his Treatise on Education, assigns too late a birth-time, almost beyond the age of childhood, for the senses of taste and smell. He seems, however, to con found the refinement of these senses, which, no doubt, takes place in mature age, with their existence and power, CHAl'. I. [ LEVANA. 1 15 which certainly flourish in their greatest strength during childhood. Every one may remember how as a child, like the animals (which remain stationary on this first step) and like savages, he imbibed every thing tasty, fruits, sugar, sweet wine, fat, with a delight and enjoyment which weakened with every year of the subsequent refine- ment of the sense ; hence the so much lamented love of sweatmeats in all children ; hence the experience of so many grown-up people, who have had the favourite dishes of their childhood, cooked for them, that they did not like them. Infants, no doubt, take bitter medicines without resistance ; but this is no reproach to their taste ; we ourselves in later life seek a pure bitter as a higher excitement, in bitter beer, water, and almonds. If a young animal eat poisonous plants which an old one avoids, there is proved by this less want of taste than superabundance of appetite, that is hunger ; which, in it, as easily conquers instinct as, in us, it unfortunately over- comes reason. Smell, the dulness of which sense speaks as little in favour of mental delicacy as that of the eye or of the ear does against it,* awakes with consciousness, consequent] y, last in a child. We are less aware of its advent because it subserves few necessities ; and because its continuance, either, for instance, in spice islands, or in Aiigean-stable- like streets, renders the consciousness of it difficult. Children have little scent-glands for the persons nearest them, for instance, for their parents ; and thereby dis- tinguish them from individuals more rarely seen. And it is precisely smell which dies away the first of all the senses ; although it, unlike the other senses, is seldom worn out by too powerful stimulants. And who is there who has not experienced in himself what I have done — that often a nosegay of wild flowers, which was to us, as village children, a grove of pleasure, has, in after years of manhood and in the town, given us by its old perfume an indescribable transport back into god-like childhood; and how, like a flower-goddess, it has raised us into the first embracing Aurora-clouds of our first dim feelings ? But * Haller with his weak eves: Pope and Swift with unmusical ears. L L 146 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH KICHTER. [FRAG. III. how could such a remembrance so strongly affect us if our childish sensibility to flowers had not been strong and heartfelt ? Ascribe, then, to after life nothing more than the refinement of a deeply implanted feeling. CHAPTER II. THE J0YOUSNESS OP CHILDREN. § 43. Should they have any thing else ? I can endure a melan- choly man, but not a melancholy child ; the former, in whatever slough he may sink, can yet raise his eyes either to the kingdom of reason or of hope ; but the little child is entirely absorbed and weighed down by one black poison- drop of the present. Think of a child led to a scaffold ; think of Cupid in a Dutch coffin ; or watch a butterfly, after its four wings have been torn off, creeping like a worm, and you will feel what I mean. But wherefore ? The first cause has been already given ; the child, like the beast, only knows purest (though shortest) sorrow ; one which has no past and no future ; one such as the sick man receives from without, the dreamei from himself into his asthenic brain ; finally, one with the consciousness not of guilt but of innocence. Certainly all the sorrows of children are but shortest nights, as their joys are but hottest days ; and, indeed, both so much so that in the later, often clouded and starless, time of life, the matured man only longingly remembers his old child- hood's pleasures, while he seems altogether to have for- gotten his childhood's griefs. This weak remembrance is strangely contrasted with the opposing one in dreams and fevers in this respect, that in the two last it is always the cruel sorrows of childhood which return : the dream, this mock-sun of childhood — and the fever, its distorting glass, — both draw forth from dark corners the fears of defence- CHAP. II.] LEV ANA. 147 less childhood, which press and cut with iron fangs into the prostrate soul. The fair scenes of dreams mostly play on an after stage ; whereas the frightful ones choose for theirs the cradle and the nursery. Moreover, in fever the ice hands of the fear of ghosts, the striking ones of teachers and parents, and every claw with which fate has pressed the young heart, stretch themselves out to catch the wandering man. Parents ! consider, then, that every childhood's Rupert,* even though it has lain chained for tens of years, yet breaks loose and gains mastery over the man as soon as it finds him on a sick bed. The first fright is the more dangerous the sooner it happens ; as the man grows older he is less and less easily frightened ; the little cradle or bed canopy of the child is more ea,sily quite darkened than the starry heaven of the man. § 44. Cheerfulness, or joyousness, is the heaven under which every thing but poison thrives. But let it not be con- founded with enjoyments. Every enjoyment, even the refined one of a work of art, gives man a selfish mien, and withdraws him from sympathy ; heuce it is only a con- dition of necessity, not of virtue. On the contrary, cheer- fulness, the opposite of vexation and sadness, is at once the ground and flower of virtue and its crown. Animals can enjoy, but only men can be cheerful. The holy father is at the same time called the blessed, and God is the all blessed. A morose God is a contradiction, or the devil. The stoic philosopher must unite scorn of enjoy- ment with the preservation of cheerfulness. The Christian heaven promises no pleasures, like the Turkish, but the clear, pure, infinite ether of heavenly joy, which flows from the contemplation of the Eternal. The foretaste of heaven — Paradise, to which the theologians denied pleasures, but not cheerfulness — sheltered innocence. The cheerful man wins our eye and heart, as the morose man drives both away : it is the contrary with pleasures, we turn our back on the luxurious, and open our heart to the * The name given in Germany to the fictitious being employed to frighten children into obedience. — Tr. L 2 148 JEAN PAUL FRIEDEICH RICETER. | FRAG. III. starving. If pleasure be a self-consuming rocket, cheer- fulness is a returning light star, an object which, unlike pleasure, is not worn away by continuance, but receives from it new birth. § 45. Now let us return to the dear children. I do indeed think, that they ought to inhabit their Paradise like our first parents, those true first children. But pleasures make no Paradise, they only help to laugh it away. Play, that is activity, not pleasures, will keep children cheerful. By pleasure I understand every first agreeable impression, not only of the taste, but also of the ear and the eye : a plaything gives in the first place pleasure by looking at it, and only afterwards cheerfulness by using it. Pleasure is an irritating burning spot, not an all-embracing warmth, on the excitable skin of the child. Further, if refined, perpetual drunkards and epicures multiply and extend their pleasures by the past and the future ; so children, from want of both, can only have shortest but, conse- quently, deepest pleasures. Their point of sight, like their eye, is less than ours ; the burning-glass of pleasure should not strike them at focal distance, but far off and gently. In other words, divide the great pleasure into little merry-makings, a gingerbread cake into gingerbread nuts, a Christmas eve into a church year. In one month of nine-and-twenty days a child might be mentally destroyed, if one could make out of every day a first Christmas Day. Not even a grown-up head could stand being crowned every day by a new country : the first in Paris, the second in London, the third in Eome, the fourth in Vienna. But little enjoyments work like scent bottles on the young souls, and strengthen them from action to action. Nevertheless, this ramification of pleasures only serves for their earliest years : afterwards, in a reversed way, will a Midsummer-feast, a grape- gathering, a Shrove- tide, for which children have long to wait, together with the gleanings of a lively memory, shine all the more brightly in the dull interval. A word about children's love Df sweetmeats, against CHAP. II.] LEVANA. 149 which Schwarz strives perhaps too eagei ly, may be dropped here. I never yet knew a child to whom sweet savory things and pastry did not seem the most inimitable cakes and altar paintings, and this merely because a child, half animal, half savage, is all taste. Bees have at the same time a honey and a wax stomach ; but among human beings, children have the first, grown people the second. If Schwarz has always found love of eating and want of modesty united, he can only declare this of the age of manhood ; but even then the love of eating was only the consequence and companion of deeper sensual pleasures, not their cause. Certainly, the unbridled sensualist will alter in his meats, and also in his tastes, as the lover of eating does on other grounds ; but, on the other hand, how can the pleasures of taste, which grow weaker as every year is further from childhood, end in still lower sen- sualities, especially since the generality of souls, in regard to love, resemble the Egyptians, among whom the gods reigned earlier tnan mortal men ? The fathers do not hop, but the children do ; then leave them their other Egyptian flesh-pots before their journeying forth into the desert. The author has often made the sugar-island of the tongue, on which of itself no Paphian wood grows, into a kind of palaestra of self-denial ; at the same time he relates the matter with diffidence, only as a question, not an answer. For instance, he gave to the two- and three-year old children candied marchpane (the most wholesome thing) with the command only to suck it at a certain place, and only for so long a time as he permitted. The children learned to value and to keep a promise. He also offered sugar or honey prizes for the endurance of the most strokes on the hand ; but he did it seldom. Most royal children can shorten our inquiries by their decision. For, as regards pleasures, they have everything from toys and drinking- and eating-things to carriage seats and bed cushions; but, as far as happiness is concerned, they are tormented from their governors up through every member of their court ; so that the kingly crown is very early underlined with a crown of thorns, or, to speak differently, the black round of sorrow is made broader in proportion to their high rank. For, indeed, 150 JEAN PAUL FEIEDEICH EICH1EE. [FEAG. 111. when we consider how generally a prince, satiated with eating and drinking, is so educated that he cannot make a step without tutors and lectures, nor a skip without the dancing-master, nor take a breath of fresh air without four horses, we must almost believe that the ancient heretic Basilides is now again right as regards princes, when he declared that the early Christians would often have been martyrs for future sins, if the after-pains were not added to the fore-pains of the future. Cheerfulness — this feeling of an entirely free nature and life, this self- enjoyment of the inner world, not of an out- ward minute part of the world — opens the child to the penetrating All; it receives nature, not loveless and de- fenceless, but loving and armed, and lets all the young powers rise like morning beams, and play upon the world and upon itself; and it imparts, asmoroseness takes away, strength. The early blossoms of gladness are not corn- flowers among the seed, but are themselves little young ears of corn. It is a beautiful tradition that the Virgin Mary and the poet Tasso never wept as children.* But now the question is of the means and starry influences which preserve this cheerfulness. If it merely resulted from negative and physical conditions, then, at least for the most instructive half year of life, that is the first, all would be obtained by a child who was born in spring. Why do not men begin life, as Oriental nations do the year, with spring ? A child born at this season, might an almanac say without lying, moves slowly on from charm to charm, from leaves to flowers, from the warmth of rooms to that of the sky : the wind is not yet his enemy — instead of storms, melodies breathe in the branches — born to a half year's festival of the earth, he must believe that life remains so — he sees the rich earth only afterwards hidden by its covering — and the enjoy- ment of life which the suckling mother imbibes flows warm through the little heart. * Pertschen'a Church History. CHAP. III. J LEVANA. 151 CHAPTER III. GAMES OF CHILDREN. § 46. That which produces and maintains cheerfulness is nothing but activity. The usual games of children, unlike ours, are only the expressions of earnest activity, clothed in lightest wings : children have also a game (it is one to them) I mean that of joking, of unmeaning speech, in order to have something to say to themselves, and so forth. Now if a German were to write a book about the games of children, which would at least be more useful than one about games of cards, he would, it seems to me, distinctly and correctly divide them only into two classes : first, into games or exertions of the receiving, apprehending, learning faculties ; and, secondly, into games of the acting, forming powers. The first class would embrace activity from without working inwardly, like the nerves of sense ; the other activity from within working outwardly, like the nerves of motion. Consequently, if the author went deeply into the first class, which he calls the theoretic, — the second, on the other hand, the practical, — he would adduce games which are properly only a child's experimental physics, optics, mechanics. Children have great pleasure for instance, in turning or raising anything — putting keys into locks and, in general, one thing into another — opening and shutting doors, to which is added, moreover, the dramatic fancy of seeing the room now large now small, and themselves alone one moment, in company the next ; — watching the employment of their parents is to them a game of this kind, as is also listening to conversation. In the second or practical division, the author must put all those games in which the child seeks to relieve himself of his mental superabundant activity by dramatic fancies, and of his bodily, by movements. The examples will come in the next paragraph. 152 JEAN PAUL FKIEDRICH RICHTER. (~FRAG. in. But T think so very scientific a man would form a third class, already hinted at ; namely, that in which the child only plays the game, does not really act and feel it, that is, where he takes and gives a comfortable form and tone ; for instance, looks out of the window, lies upon the grass, listens to the nurse and other children. §47. Play is, in the first place, the working off at once of the overflow of both mental and physical powers ; afterwards, when the school sceptre has carried off the mental source of all fire, even till rain comes, the limbs only throw off the fulness of life by running, throwing, carrying. Play is the first poetry of the human being. (Eating and drinking are his prose ; and striving to get the needful supplies his first solid bread-study and labour of life.) Consequently play forms all the powers, without imparting an overweening influence to any one.* If a teacher would be cruel enough to form a whole man into one member, for instance, into a magnified ear, he must during the first years so mix the playing cards, by abstracting some, that nothing could ever be obtained but games of sound. If he wished to be anything better in the games than cruel, he would perhaps endeavour to lead his pupil with gentle hand, imitating chance which acts from all sides and develops all. But I dread that grown-up hairy hand and fist which knocks on the tender fructifying dust of childhood's blossoms and shakes a colour off, first here, then there, so that the proper many marked carnation may be formed. We often think to rule the external but broad empire of chance by means which some inner narrow accident has thrown together in ourselves. * Many children's games are imitations (but mental, whereas those of monkeys are physical), that is to say, not from any especial interest in the thing, but merely because imitation falls in most readily with the mental impulses of life. Probably the monkey, like Dr. Monro's nervous patient, only imitates strange movements, compulsorily and from weakness. CHAP, in.] LEVANA. 153 §48. We will, however, step further into the play-place of the little folks, if not to be lawgivers, yet to be markers of their games. During the first months of existence the child knows nothing of creative play or efforts, only of the passive reception of impressions. During that period of the most rapid physical growth and inpouring of the world of sense, the overwhelmed soul does not direct itself towards those active games in which afterwards its super- abundant powers find relief. It can only look, listen, catch, touch : so laden, its little hands and arms quite full, it can do and attempt little with them. It is only at a later period, when, by means of the five acts of the five senses, the knowledge of the outer world is attained, and one word after another gradually liberates the mind, that greater freedom produces active play ; and that fancy begins to move, whose unfledged wings lan- guage first plumes. Only by words does the child obtain an inner world opposed to the outer, by which he can set the external universe in motion. He has two kinds of play very different both in direction and time — first, that with playthings ; and second, that with and among playmates. §49. In the first place the child plays with things, con- sequently with himself. A doll is to him a nation, or a company of players, and he is the theatrical poet and director. Every bit of wood is a gilded flower rod, on which fancy can bud hundred-leaved roses. For not merely to grown-up people, but also to children, the plaything itself becomes indifferent if a happy imagination alone be per- mitted to decide ; whether it be with regard to imperial or laurel crowns, shepherds' crooks, or marshals' staves, the flails of war or of agriculture. In the eyes of wonder- working fancy every Aaron's rod blossoms. As the Elysian fields of the ancients near Naples were grounded (accord- ing to Maccard) on nothing more than a bush in a cave, bo, for children, is every bush a forest ; and they possess 154 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH PJCHTER. [FRAG. III. that heaven which Luther in his table-talk promises the saints, where the bugs are sweet-scented, the serpents playful, the dogs gold-skinned, and Luther a lamb. I mean to say, that in the heaven of childhood the father is God the Father, the mother the Mother of God, the nurse a Titaness, the old servant an Angel of the Communion, the turkey a Cherub of Eden, and Eden itself is restored. Do you not know that there is a time when fancy is more actively creative than even in youth, namely, in child- hood, in which nations create their gods, and only speak in poetry ? Never forget that the games of children with inanimate playthings are so important, because for them there are only living things : (a doll is as much a human being to a child as a baby is to a woman ;) and also because to them every word is a reality. In beasts the body alone plays, in children the mind. Life meets them on every side ; they cannot comprehend death, or any thing dead; and therefore the happy beings, animating every thing, sur- round themselves only with life, and hence it is they say, for instance, " The lights have covered themselves up and gone to bed — the spring has dressed itself— the water runs down the glass — his house lives there — the wind dances," * — or of a watch from which the works are removed, " It is not alive." But among richer realities fancy fades and grows poor ; in the mean time every plaything and playworld is only a distaff of flax from which the soul spins a many coloured coat. As the rook in chess was among different people, now a camel, now an elephant, a stork, a boat, a castle ; so among children, one plaything often acts many parts, and every time it seems to them, as manna did to the Jews, the very thing they desired. The author remembers a little girl of two years old who, after having long carried about an old doll reduced to the bare wood, had at last placed in her arms a very pretty and skilfully dressed one — a foster-sister of the most beautiful in Bertuch's Journal des Modes, which it resembled as niu -'h in optio beauty as it surpassed it in size. Soon afterwards the * Some girl in terror at the raging of the wind substituted " dance * euphemistically. CHAP. III.] LEVANA. 155 child not only resumed her former conduct towards the wooden sloven, but went so far as to take into her arms, in the place of child or doll, a shabby boot-jack of her father's, which she nursed and rocked to sleep as lovingly as the above-mentioned original of Bertuch's pictures. So much more readily does fancy invest an invisible Adam's rib with human limbs and fashionable costume than a doll which only diifers in size from a lady, and which, on its side, appears to the imagination at the next tea-party «o perfect that it can be improved in nothing. Just so the same little lassie, sitting beside the author, wrote for a loug time with a pen dipped only in air on an ever-white sheet of paper, until he almost fancied it was a satire on himself. Consequently do not surround your children, like princes' children, with a little world of the turner's : do not give them eggs coloured and painted over with figures, but white ; they will soon from their own minds hatch the coloured feathers. On the contrary, the older a man growt, the more rich a reality should appear : the heath on which the youth gleaned at least the morning-dew of the light of love, grows cold with the dark night-dew to the half-blind old man, and at last man requires a whole world, I mean the next, in order only to live. V § 50. But by the same fancy which, like the sun, paints the colours on the leaves are they also again removed from them. The same mistress of the robes dresses, and also undresses ; consequently there is for children no ever- enduring play or plaything. Therefore do not let a play- thing which has lost its charm lie long before the eye conscious of the change ; lay it by. After a long time the dismissed favourite will be received with honour. The same is to be said of picture-books ; for a poetic animation is as necessary to the picture-book as to the play drawer. A few words about that. The proper picture-books for ABC children do not consist of a sequence of unknown plants and animals, whose differences only the instructed eye perceives, but of historical pieces which present the actions of animals or men taken from the child's circle. 156 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH EICHTER. [FEAG. III. Then this living gallery, in whose universal history the child can more clearly paint the individual being than the reader or author can in the all-embracing generality of poetry, may be exalted into historic groups ; for instance into a Joseph among his brethren, selling or recognising him, — into a Hector's farewell of wife and child, and such like subjects. Children — those of one or two years old excepted who still need the spur of colour — only require drawings, not paintings ; colours resemble the above-mentioned luxurious- ness of playthings and, by reality, weaken the creative faculty. Therefore give no plaything whose end is only to be looked at ; but let every one be Buch as to lead to work. For instance, a little complete mine, after being a few hours before the child's eyes, is altogether gone over and each tiny vein of ore exhausted ; but a box of building materials, a collection of detached houses, bridges and trees, by their ever-varying location, will make him as rich and happy as an heir to the throne who makes his mental dispositions known by rebuilding his father's palace in the park. Moreover, small pictures are bettel than large ones. What is to us almost invisible is tc children only little ; they are physically short sighted, consequently suited to what is near; and with their short yard, that is, with their little body, they so easily find giants everywhere, that to these little juveniles we should present the world on a reduced scale. §51. Before the new philosophers, who in education more readily give everything than something, one grows so very much ashamed of such a paragraph as this that one scarcely knows how to deck and sweeten it. I must, however, say that for children in their early years, I know no cheaper and more lasting plaything, one that is also clean and suited for both sexes, than what everyone has in the pineal-gland, some in the bladder, and birds in the stomach — sand. I have seen children weary of play use it for hours as building material, as hurling machine, as a cascade, water for washing, seed, flour, finger-tickler, as CHAP. III. J LEVANA. 157 inlaid work, and raised work, as a ground for writing and painting. It is to boys what water is to girls. Philo- sophers! strew sand less in than before the eyes in the birdcage of your children. Only one thing has to be cared for with regard to it, that they do not eat their plaything. §52. The second kind of play is the playing of children with children. If men be made for men, so are children for children, only much more beautifully. In their early years children are to one another only the completion of their fancy about one plaything : two fancies, like two flames, play near and in one another, yet un-united. Moreover children alone are sufficiently childlike for children. But in later years the first little bond of society is woven of flower-garlands ; playing children are little European savages in social contract for the per- formance of one drama. On the play-place they first issue from the speaking and audience hall into the true sphere of action, and begin their human praxis. For parents and teachers are ever to them those strange heaven- descended gods, who, according to the belief of many nations, appeared teaching and helping the new men on the new-born earth : at least they are to the child gigan- tic Titans ; — consequently in this theocracy and monarchy free resistance is forbidden and injurious to them, obe- dience and faith serviceable and salutary. Where then can the child show and mature his governing power, his resistance, his forgiveness, his generosity, his gentleness, in short every root and blossom of society, except in freedom among his equals ? Teach children by children ! The entrance into their play-room is for them an entrance into the great world ; and their mental school of industry is in the child's play-room and nursery. It is often of more use to a boy himself to administer the cane than to receive it from his tutor ; and still more to have it inflicted by one of his equals than by one of his superiors. If you wish to form a slave for life, fasten a boy for fifteen years to the legs and arms of his tutor, who is to be at onco theatrical director, and occasional member of the two- 158 JEAN PAUL FEIEDEICH EICHTEE. |~FRAG. III. personed company. Like all slaves, the child will probably keep his eye and heart armed against his tyrant's individuality ; but, accustomed to one climate and sailing only with one wind, he will be unable in future to with- stand the all-sidedness of individualities. §53. The teaching and feeding master of the little one always acts as if the proper life of the child, as a human being, were not actually begun, but waited until he himself had departed in order then to lay the key-stone of the arch. Even the travelling tutor believes that, so long as he walks beside and sows seed in the furrow, the time of leaves and flowers has not arrived. For man, needing an external whole, when once an inner one animates him, fixes that outer one, like the arch of the sky and the approach of heaven to earth, in the distance and on the horizon, although from every hill which he successively mounts that heaven flies away into the more distant blue; and so man arrives at old age, and at last, on the mound of the grave, heaven rests upon earth. The whole of life is, then, nowhere or everywhere. Heavens ! where a man is, there eternity, not time, begins. Consequently the plays and actions of children are as serious and full of meaning in themselves and in reference to their future, as ours are to ours. The early game becomes the earnest of later years ; although children in play often repeat something as the echo of an earlier reality, just as the Neapolitans play cards during theatrical representations. Moser dictated his works while playing ombre : perhaps his have been secretly suggested to many an author by his early childhood's games. As chess is said to serve for instruction in war and government, so the *uture laurels and tree of knowledge grow in the play-ground. The bishop Alexander considered those children on whom Athanasius when a child playfully bestowed baptism, to have been really baptized. If, as Archenholz relates, the boys of Winchester School once rebelled against their masters, garrisoned the principal entrance to the schoolhouse, and provided themselves so. CHAP. III.J LEVANA. 159 well with arms and munition that the high sheriff of the county, although he marched against them with 150 constables and 80 militia men, was yet obliged to grant an honourable capitulation— I see in this angry play nothing further than the youth of that present (even though it be unjust) manhood, which bars rivers and harbours and their own island, - and on the sea conquers countries : so much does the foam of childish play subside into true wine ; and their fig leaves conceal not nakedness but sweet figs. § 54. If one were to make propositions, that is wishes, one might express this : That for every child a circle of games and real actions should be provided, composed of as many different individualities, conditions and years as can possibly be found, in order to prepare him, in the orbis pictus of a diminished play -world, for the larger real one. But to give the social account of these three play provinces would require a book within the book. Moreover, I would propose pleasure and playmasters, as the precursors and leaders of the schoolmaster — and also play-rooms, empty as those rooms on whose plaster walls Raphael's immortal flowers bloom — and also play gardens. And I am just reading that Grabner, in his travelling description of the Netherlands, gives an account of play- schools, to which the Dutchman sends his children sooner than to the schools of instruction. Certainly if one of the two must fall, it were better the former should continue in existence. Yet a few miscellaneous observations. Children love no plays so much as those in which they have something to expect, or to dread : so early does the poet, with his knot making and loosing, play his part in man. From time to time they, like deep, unlucky players, ask for new cards. But this changeableness is not merely that of luxury, but also the consequence of their rapid growth — for the so quickly ripening child seeks new fruits in new countries, as the aged seeks new ones in the old. Perhaps also it is the consequence of that want of a future and a past, whereby a child is so much more strongly affected 160 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. IIT. and wearied by the present, as though he were seated in a world of sunbeams without morning and evening red- ness : and, lastly, for the child, to whose littleness not only space * but time is magnified, play hours must grow into play years ; and therefore we must indulge him, the short-sighted being, in his desire of change and new games The one-houred constancy of a child equals, nay surpasses, that of one month in his parents. The Jews forbad to celebrate two festivals on the same day, a marriage, for instance, on a feast day, or two marriages at the same time. Should not children be refused in a similar manner if, after having taken a walk on a summer evening, they beg leave to play in the garden, and then, thirdly, to bring their playfellows into the parlour for a quarter of an hour before supper? For herein are children antedated growri-up persons ; and, while at work, scarcely long so much for pleasure, as for what comes after pleasure ; from one sugar-island they would at once sail over to another, and heap heaven upon heaven. If this frequentativum of the enjoyment of even innocent pleasures be allowed, the child, dearest mother, becomes only fitted for a court, or royal residence, and lays claim to pleasure as a right — months of thirty-two days, and feast-days of twenty-five hours, each of which measures full sixty-ono minutes. And so the little being is already dipped in the honey of present superabundant pleasure, whereby time clogs the butterfly wings of the Psyche for every flight. The only good (if, indeed, it be any) that can come out of a girl thus educated, is at most a woman who, on the same day, after having received and paid some visits, amuses herself at the theatre, and then afterwards hopes for cards and dancing. As nature by cool refreshing night breaks off the culminating pleasures of our constitution, always requiring stronger excitement ; so this healthy night-coolness should be given, in a mental sense, to children, in order not to expose them in the future to the sufferings of the people of the world and of pleasure ; who, like sea-farers in * It is a familiar experience that when one lights as a man on objects of childhood all .seem smaller and shorter ; for the measure, not the tilings, has grown longer. CH.\r. III. J LEV ANA. 161 northern latitudes, wearied by month-long unceasing day, pray and bless God for a little night and candle-light. But let there ever be, if many games, yet few playthings — and not apparent — and every evening put away into one place — and for twins let the same piece be doubled, as for three children trebled, in order to avoid quarrels.* The early games should assist the mental development, for the physical advances gigantically without help : later ones should draw the physical up along with the mental, which, by schools and advancing years, takes the pre- cedence. Let the child toy, sing, look, listen ; but let the boy and the girl run, climb, throw, build, bear heat and cold. The most delightful and inexhaustible play is speaking ; first of the child with itself, and still more of the parents with it. In play and for pleasure you cannot speak too much with children ; nor in punishing, or teaching them, too little. Immediately after waking, the child, owing to his mental and physical excitability, requires almost nothing, still less you ; shortly before going to sleep, as at the burning out of a bonfire, a little weariness is serviceable. For older children, whom labour exercises and controls, its end (freedom) is itself a game ; and then the open air. The open air — an expression which Europe, like death, must soon exchange for the more correct one— the open aether. But let not the teacher after the work also order and regulate the games ! It is decidedly better not to recognise or make any order in games — not even mine — than to keep it up with difficulty and send the zephyrets of pleasure through artistic bellows and air-pumps to the little flowers. Animals and savages never experience tedium, neither would children if we were not so very anxious to keep it away. Let the child experience in play his future life ; and since from that the mountain and storm pressure of tedium cannot be removed, let the child sometimes feel it, in order afterwards not to perish under its weight. * Here a sensible friend makes the important objection tbat by this means children are deprived of the pleasure of giving and receiving. He would recommend instead a different toy for each tor the pleasure of exchanging. I M 162 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH EICHTEK. [FRAG. III. CHAPTER IV. children's dances. §55. I know not whether I should most deprecate children's balls, or most praise children's dances ! The former — before the dancing-master — in the society of lookers-on and fellow dancers — in the hot temperature of the ball- room, and among its hot products — are, in the highest degree, the front ranks and leading steps to the dance of death. On the contrary, children's dances are what I will now commend more at large. As the first speech long precedes grammar, so should dancing precede and prepare the way for the art of danc- ing. A father who has an old piano, or fiddle, or flute, or an improvising singing voice, should call his own and neighbour's children together, and let them every day for an hour hop and turn by his orchestra, in pairs, in rows, in circles, very frequently alone, accompanying themselves with singing, as their own grinding organ; and also in any way they like. In the child happiness dances ; in the man, at most, it only smiles or weeps. The mature man can in dancing only express the beauty, of the art, not himself and his emotions : love would thereby comport itself too rudely, joy too loudly and boldly, before the stern Nemesis. In the child, body and soul still live united in their honeymoon, and the active body dances after the happy soul ; until afterwards both separate from bed and board, and at last entirely leave one another. In later times the light zephyr of contentment cannot turn the heavy metal standard to point its course. §56. Children are like Forrer's watches which wind them- selves up if you walk about with them. As in the old astronomy, eleven of their heavens are moveable, and only cne, that of sleep, stationary. It is only dancing in a circle that is light enough for a child ; only for youth is a CHAI\ IV.] LEVANA. 163 Btraight course not too difficult. As to the heavenly bodies, so to children, do the motion and music of the spheres belong ; whereas the older body, like water, takes the Btraight path. To speak more plainly : Women, it is well known, cannot run, but only dance ; and every one would more easily reach by dancing than by walking ;i posthouse, to which, instead of a straight poplar alley, a lordly row of trees planted in the English fashion, con- ducted. Now children are diminutive women — at least boys are, although girls are often only diminutive boys. Dancing is the easiest of all movements, because it needs the least space and is the most varied ; hence joy is not a runner but a dancer : hence the indolent savage dances, and the wearied negro slave rouses himself by dancing to fresh exertion : hence the runner — all other circumstances being the same — has more frequently fallen down dead than the dancer. Hence camels, and armies, and Oriental labourers continue their laborious marches for a longer time and with more ease to the sound of music; not principally because music produces cheerfulness, that might easily be attained by other pleasures, but because music rounds off the straight movement into the circling dance and its still returning rhythm ; for it is only in a circular, not in a straight line, that every thing returns in thirds. As an argumentative or a narrative sequence (science or history) prepares us by every effort of attention for a still stronger, whereas the zigzag of the epigram each moment compels us to a new beginning and fresh exertion ; so physically the same is the case in running and walking, in which, up-hill, or down-hill, no effort is cause of its successor, but the great follows the little. or the strongest the strongest, as the case may be : in dancing, on the contrary, without aim or compulsion, one movement constantly springs out of the other and renders cessation, rather than continuance, difficult. All running, but no dancing, desires an end. What better movement, then, can there be for children than this revolving one ? The gymnastic of running, going on stilts, climbing, &c, steels and hardens individual forces and muscles, whereas dancing, on the contrary, like a physical poet exercises aud equalises all the muscles. m 2 164 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. III. §57. Further, the harmony connected with it imparts to the affections and the mind that metrical order which reveals the highest, and regulates the beat of the pulse, the step and even the thoughts. Music is the metre of this poetic movement, and is an invisible dance, as dancing is a silent music. Finally, this also ranks among the advantages of this eye and heel pleasure ; that children with children, by no harder canon than the musical, light as sound, may 1 ie joined in a rose-bud feast without thorns or strife. In short, dancing cannot come soon enough, "but the dancing-master may more easily come too soon than too late." This last part appears in the first edition. I should, perhaps, more correctly have written singing than dancing- master, because those skilled in the art declare that the early exercise of the voice is injurious to it. The first edition is only right in so far as it may to the utmost remove children, brought up in genteel coquetry, from the influence of the dancing-master, who would reduce all bodily movements to rule and system. On the other side, again, the second edition is right, if it add that better- educated children, who in their eighth and ninth years, instead of vanity, know only the law of the good and the beautiful, may join with less danger to their higher self the trivial regiment and ruling fiddle of the dancing- master in their early years when they can learn to dance, as to walk and to read, without coquetry. Then also the dancing-hour may become an hour of freedom and play to those poor persecuted children who are treated like goats, whose sinews are cut to prevent them from jumping. CHAPTEE V. MUSIC. §58. Music, the only fine art in which man and all classes of animals — spiders, mice, elephants, fish, amphibious creatures, birds — have a community of goods, niusf CHAP. V.] LEVANA. 165 ceaselessly affect the child, who is the spiritual man and the brute beast united. And so one might break the heart of the little new possessor of life with a trumpet, and its eai with shrieks and discord. Therefore, it is probable that the first music, perhaps as an undying echo in the child, forms the secret thorough-bass, the melodious theme in the brain- chambers of a future master of sound, which his after compositions only harmoniously vary. Music, rather than poetry, should be called " the happy art." She imparts to children nothing but heaven, for as ye't they have not lost it, and lay no memories as mufflers on the clear sounds. Choose melting melodies, and soft strains ; even with those you only excite the child to frisk and dance about. Savages, powerful and pleasure-loving people, such as Greeks, Bussians and Neapolitans, have their popular songs set entirely in minor keys. For some years the child, like the father, can weep at certain sounds ; but in him it arises from overflowing happiness, for as yet the memory does not place beneath those tuneful hopes the reckoning of its losses. §59. Yet among all the instruments which sound in Haydn's child's concerts, that best serves the purposes of educa- tional music which is born with the performer — the voice. In the childhood of nations speaking was singing. Let this be repeated in the childhood of the individual In singing, the human being, harmony and heart coalesce at the same time in one breast— whereas instruments seem only to lend him a voice : — with what arms can a parent more closely and more gently draw the little beings towards him than with his spiritual ones, with the tones of his own heart, with the same voice which always speaks to them, but now transfigured into a musical ascension ? Thereby they have the advantage and the consciousness that they can imitate it on the spot. Singing takes the place of screaming, which the doctors so much praise as a palaestra for the lungs, and first military exercise of speech. Is there anything more beautiful than a merry singing child ? And how unwearied! v he repeats the 106 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. III. .same thing, which is so repulsive to the little soul in all other games ! As in maturer age the Alpine shepherd and the chained labourer sing away their vacancy and long hours of compulsory sitting ; so the child sings away childhood, and sings on, hearing only himself. For harmony, like the innate poetry of the feelings, says nothing but the same thing, unsatiated by repetition, unwearied by sound. Let the father, like the 1'rieslander, follow the proverb — Frisia non cantat— and never or seldom sing : I would wish him to do it for his children, and the mother for him and them. § 60. As one drops asleep by inward listening to singing, so one might, at least in a case where immediate waking is necessary (always a most undesirable thing) effect it by music, as Montaigne's father did. A flute-playing clock would be a good awakener. And why should not harmony be employed as a soul-curative means against the maladies of children, against vexation, obstinacy, anger ? CHAPTER VI. COMMANDS, PROHIBITIONS, PUNISHMENTS, AND CRYING. §61. Rousseau could not write these paragraphs ; for he was of a different opinion. But I agree with Basedow, and do not believe, with the former, that the parental will can and ought to assume the appearance of a mere accident. Rewarding and punishing merely by physical consequences and regulations, and in fact the whole of Rousseau's system of education, would throw away a grown-up man for the sake of a growing one : but life is not given to pass merely from education again to education. Rousseau himself admits that only an approach to his plan is CHAP. VI.] LEVANA. 1(57 possible ; but then one is just as far as ever from the goal ; since here it does not depend on the failure of a degree, but of a species. Fortunately this erroneous course is closed against the child's mind. V How, then, would the child attain the after-feeling of necessity without the fore-feeling of freedom which he must see as strong in others, or in his equals, as in himself? Much more must the child — proceeding from himself — regard all things, even dead matter, as free, and be exasperated with every opposition, as though it were intentional. The deeper the chain of souls hangs down the broader does the free ocean flow around. The dog bites the stone — the child strikes both — the savage sees in the storm a war kindled and led by spirits. It is only to the clearer eye that that dark iron mass which we call necessity stands in the midst of the universe like a black sun. Even this it is that first draws the free spirit, which begins and ends in freedom, out of understanding into reason, out of the finite into infinitude. The child, then, who makes every thing into an independent being, con- sequently yourself in the first place, finds in every oc- curence a premeditated course of action, and in every hindrance an enemy. Do not we older ones experience during our whole life the iron power of nature, yet without resigning ourselves calmly and uncomplainingly to it, when, for instance, it either closes it irremediably, as in death, or embitters it, as in old age ? And whence do ri. i J. physical consequences obtain their educational reputation except from the unchangeableness of nature ? Now free t*^-/ will may appear to the child just as consequential and immoveable ! Then he beholds a higher than blind ne- ^J cessity. Further, is there any necessity which better teaches endurance than the mental one of a foreign will ? , Finally, how can trust in men — that noble bond of human and higher oneness — come to life in a child without some /•!••-'-'•/ object, without a parent's word on which he may confide ? S^ § 62 The modes, then, of commanding and forbidding are all .hat come under consideration. And here we must entreat 168 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [FEAG. III. pardon for the disorderly ranks of a merely experimental system of education. Take no pleasure in ordering t do or not to do, but in the child's free action. In frequent orders the parent's advantage is more considered than the child's. Let the child be irresistibly bound by your word, but not you yourself : you need not give any edicta perpetua, but your lawgiving power can each day issue new de- cretals and pastoral letters. Forbid seldomer by actions than by words : do not snatch the knife out of the child's hands, but let him lay it down himself at your desire ; in the first case he obeys the pressure of a foreign power, in the second its guidance. Let your tables of the law be unbroken, and in raised character. Rather forbid the whole, if it is difficult for you to separate its parts : for instance — touching the table at all, though you may only wish to protect some articles upon it. Let the child learn in himself the right he demands from others. Consequently let the respect for property be decidedly and unsparingly exacted from him. What belongs to the child ? Father and mother, nothing more : every thing else belongs to them. But as every man desires a world, yea, a whole universe, for his patrimony, mete out little to the little ones and say — " No more ! " The child's ear readily distinguishes a decided from an angry tone of voice : the mother easily falls into the latter when she attempts to imitate the father in the former. His commands are better obeyed than hers for three reasons ; the first, his decided, though far removed from angry, voice, has been already mentioned. The second is, that the man, for the most part, like the warrior, says only one, and consequently the same, imperial No; whereas women can scarcely say to a child, Be quiet ! without colon and semicolon, and most necessary notes of inter- rogation and exclamation. Was there ever in history an instance of a woman training a dog ? Or could a generaless, in commanding her marching army to halt, ever express herself otherwise than thus . " All you people, as soon as I have done speaking, I command you all to stand still in CHAP. VT.j LEVANA. 169 your places ; halt, I tell you ! " The third reason is, that the m** 1 ! more rarely withdraws his refusal, /k The best rule in politics is said to be " pas trop gouverner : " it is also true in education. But some teachers, in order to be always talking, and rather to resemble ringing silver than dead-sounding gold, preach as often against faults and in favour of virtues which come with years, as against faults and for virtues which increase with age ; why, for instance, is there so much precipitate haste about learning to walk, to knit, to read, as if these arts must not finally come of themselves ? But quite different things are, for example, pure enunciation, correct writing, and holding the pen and person properly while so engaged, a sense of order, and generally those capabilities which only grow with years. Since, un- fortunately, independently of these things, education and instruction require so many words, spare using them against fading faults, and direct them against growing ones. Frugal speech cultivates and strains the powers of the interpreting child, as riddles do. Grown people do the same towards one another : for instance, a great man of my acquaintance says at first, among a circle of strangers, little more than hum, hum, and that very low ; but just as (according to the Indian myth) the silent godhead interrupted his eternity and creation began, only because he in a similar way said, " oum " * so this man, merely by his " hum," gives everyone much to think of. Yes, I know even a greater and more useful one-syllable- ness than even the Chinese : that is no-syllableness, or silence. Young doctors, who do not wish to forget natural philosophy in their usual medical sciences, very often make use of it, in their examinations before the collegium medicum, in reply to very common questions ; as Socrates was silent when angry, so they wish by silence to express their indignation at questions about miserable sciences to which they have always remained strangers. But to return from this digression, which can less be ranked among the improvements than among the additions to the second edition — many of us teachers accompany our commands and prohibitions with moral reasons on theiT * Gorre's History of Myths. 170 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. IvL way to the heart, which are mere superficiality, for the child's conscience itself affords their strongest proof: but a sequence of reasons is useful in connection with medicinal, gymnastic, and other commands, which find in the child, instead of an advocate, only curiosity and ignorance. Further, we grown-up people all have and admit (though without deriving any peculiar benefit from it) the fault of considering every difference of a child from ourselves as a failing, our scoldings as lessons, childish errors as greater than our own ; and thence it is we so thoughtlessly convert our educational rein and leading- strings into a hanging rope, and would willingly carve the child into a neat cork Swiss model of our Alps (as Pfyffer does the lofty mountains) ; and thence it is also, since the like is not easily accomplished, that we talk on and on, like the shell sea trumpet which ceaselessly sounds, and with our school-chalk draw and lengthen the broad stroke before the beak of the poor hen, so that she may always stare down on the same line without being able to look upwards. Even a grown-up man whom some one should follow all day long with moveable pulpit and stool of confession, from which to hurl sermons and anathemas, could never attain any real activity and moral freedom ; how much less then a weak child, who, at every step in life, must be entangled in a " stop — run — be quiet — do that !" It is the same fault as that filling and cramming of the day with mere lessons ; under which rain-spout of instruction princely children especially stand, as if to make up by that flow of teaching for the future ebb of learning. And what else, in fact, is this but unceasingly to sow one field full of seed upon seed ? A dead corn granary may possibly come out of it, but no living harvest field. Or, in another simile, your watch stops while you wind it up, and you everlastingly wind up children and never let them go. Y. The reason why children dread the fire, which always burns, more than the knife, which does not always cut, applies to their different kind of fear of father and of mother : he is the fire, she the knife. The difference does not lie in their severity, for an angry mother is severity CHAP. VI.] LEVANA. 171 itself, but in their unchangeableness. The younger the child the more necessary is one-syllahleness ; yes, even that is not necessary ; shake the head and let that be enough. At most say, Pst ! Later on, give the reasons in a gentle voice, merely to render obedience easier by the fair tokens of love. For vehement refusal produces in the child vehement demand. X Forbid in a gentle voice, so that a whole gamut of increased force may be open to you, and only once. The last may cost labour. Even in the child that human system of delay rules which for every rapid determination must have time for three words of command and three summonses, together with some hours of grace. Do not, then, be more angry than is fitting, if a child, for instance, closes a forbidden noise with a so finely graduated Allegro ma non troppo and mancando, that you yourself at last cannot accurately distinguish resistance from obedience. Here there remains no choice but either punishment for the most infinitely small disobedience, or, after the first obedience, indifference to the rest : the latter seems to me the best. But there is a more beautiful lingering, the parental. The first and quickest word which a father gives to a begging child, or wife, or servant is, No ; thereupon he endeavours to grant the request, and says Yes at the end instead of at the beginning. The mother does still worse. Can you, then, obtain from yourself no respite, no 'nterval before decision, for the child, or whoever it may be, by merely answering to every request, " Come again," or " After this," or " In three Saxon minutes of rest " ? Women, I would only recommend you this law of delay in order to be less frequently in opposition to others. Another parental delay, that of punishment, is of use for children of the second five years (quinquennium). Parents and teachers would more fre- quently punish according to the line of exact justice if, after every fault in a child, they would only count four- and-twenty, or their buttons, or their fingers. They would thereby let the deceiving present round themselves, as well as round the children, escape ; the cold still empire of clearness would remain behind, and the child, as well as father (supposing, for instance, that anger would else have 172 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. |~FRAG. III. been tl e occasion for as well as the medium of the punish- ment, or the correction also the repetition of the fault), would learn in the reflected mutual pain to regard that of the other. Beccaria rightly attaches the punishment, or hangman, close to the heels of the criminal, because compassion and oblivion would else only act against, not in favour of the executioner ; but the presupposed, wide- extended despotism of the parental law admits of the softening interval of time before the spectators, as well as before the child, and in the rulers themselves. Only with regard to your youngest children attach the punishment to the very fault, like a physical effect to its cause. §63. After unchangeable biddings and forbiddings, one might also recommend to the parents some wishes, whose fulfil- ment would depend solely on the love and free choice of the children, in order to exercise them in freedom and love and merit. I will do so. The obedience of children, in itself alone without consideration of its motive, can have no other value than that thereby much is made easier to the parents. Oi would it be good for a soul's growth, suppose your child always submitted, bent and broke his will to that of others as to yours ? What a pliable, dislocated human member, bound on the wheel of fortune, would the child then be ! N^But what you desire is, not his obedience, but his inclina- ' tion to it, love, trust, self-denial, the grateful reverence for the best (namely his parents) ! And in so far you are right. But therefore take care to command nothing to which the higher motive does not itself call and incline you. To forbid will less irritate and less cause to err a child who regards everything as the independent property of his parents, than to command ; since the young spirit already knows that he has at least one property, himself and justice. Mothers willingly call to the help of their biddings and forbiddings the dissipating method, which by pleasurable by-ways conceals from the child the goal of authoritative command. But by this flattering mum- mery tl\a child learns no rule and no discipline, but before CHAP. VII.] LEVANA. 173 his short-sighted eye all right and steadiness is con- verted into a merry game of chance, which hardens and accustoms him to nothing. X.Further, the children, always only the receivers of their parents' gifts, are themselves sometimes gladly the hosts of their hosts, and do the work of love more cheerfully than that of necessity ; just as their parents more willingly give than pay. Let, then, the request be proffered in the gentlest tone of voice (but without giving any reasons) and recompensed by gladness at its fulfil- ment ; yet let not its refusal be punished. Only the slave is 1 lashed to over-service ; even the camel moves no swifter before the whip, only behind the flute. Children it has been remarked, have a particular affection for the station of their grand-parents ; and how comes this but because they require and order little, and consequently their grand-children receive it the more willingly from them ? Finally, can you more beautifully and soothingly ex- tinguish the memory of a punishment than, when it is over, making the child happy by expressing a wish for a little act of courtesy to some one? More of this in the chapter on the education of the affections. X, CHAPTEK VII. PUNISHMENTS. §64. This unchildlike tvord will scarcely issue from my pen : I would rather write pain or after-smart. Punishment should only apply to guilty conscience, and in the begin ning children, like animals, have only an innocent one. They, as the fixed stars viewed from the mountains, should never tremble ; and the earth should seem to them, as it would do from a star, glorious shining, not earthy black. Or, if you necessitate them to sacrifice and pawn their irrecoverable May-time, in order that they may 174 JEAN PAUL FRIEDPJCH EICHTER. [FRAG. III. thoroughly enjoy its inmost kernel in some subsequent tempestuous period of life, do you advise them any thing different from what the Indian does, who buries his gold in order to enjoy it in the next world after he him- self is buried ? Great rewards, says Montesquieu, betoken a falling state ; the same is true of great punishments in the schoolhouse; yea, and in the state also. Not great but unavoidable punishments are mighty, truly almighty. Hence most police punishments are usury — punishing with pounds where pence would suffice — so also are torturing cruelties, because no one dreads the wheel who scorns the gallows. There exists in men a fearful cruelty; as compassion can grow into positive pain, so the infliction of pain for punishment can grow into pleasure. It is strange, but to be proved by schoolmasters, soldiers, rustics, hunters, overseers of slaves and murderers, and by the French revolution, that wrathful cruelty is easily fanned into a pleasurable sensation, to which screams, tears, and flowing wounds actually become a refreshing spring to the thirst for blood. Among the people the blows of fate on the parents usually beget, as in a stormy sky, retaliating blows on the children. Common mothers strike their own children the harder because they see strangers do it— or because they cry too much — or because they are too silent. Is it more our subjection to jurist Home — which considered children, as well as women, slaves and those who were not Romans as things, not men — or more our reverence for the domestic sanctu- ary which explains the indifference with which the state beholds the painful judgments of parents and teachers, the tortures of defenceless innocence ? §65. If the ancient Goths, Greenlanders, Quakers, and even savages, form tranquil and brave children-souls without the cane, round which ours must twine like tame snakes, we may perceive how ill we use the twig which must afterwards be thickened to a stick, The one ought to have rendered the other unnecessary Even the smallest CHAP. VII.J LEVANA. 175 rod should only be used occasionally as paradigma and theme of the future ; afterwards the mere threatening preaches and restrains. At the same time the reproach of Goths and savages, that blows destroy the courage of a boy, proves rather too much, because it would equally serve against every useful preventive which teaches by pain, for instance, burning the finger ; and, moreover, may be disproved, partly by the example of the common German soldier, who probably gives as many blows in war as he received in time of peace, and also, partly, by that of the officers, with whom sometimes the opposite is the case. A child who strikes should be struck, and best by the object itself, if he be old enough ; by the servants, for instance. If a child be struck, say a girl, the father may be her curator sexus (guardian of the sex) ; on the contrary, if it be a boy who struck a boy, he would not deserve the future man's hat if he rather raised his voice than his hand, d took refuge in his father's revenging stick. Never let the contest of parental and childish obstinacy ike place ; the one in punishing persistency to obtain its object, the other in enduring refractoriness. After a certain amount of exerted authority, leave to the grieved child the victory of No ; you may be certain he will the next time avoid so painful a one. \ Tremblingly I venture to propose suggestive questions, presupposive of the matter — such, it is well known, are forbidden to judges, because they would thereby attach to the prisoner's answer what they had first derived from it ; and because, by this blackening of forbidden wares, they would soon arrive at the blackening of the accused thus urged to stumble. At the same time I would permit the educator occasionally to make use of such questions. If he know with every likelihood of truth that the child, for instance, has been on the ice, contrary to his order, he may, by the first question, which only concerns indifferent by-circumstances, as How long he has been on the pond and who was sliding with him, take away from him at once the wish and the attempt to pay the inquirer with the false silver of a lie ; a wish and an attempt to which the simple question, Whether he had remained in the house 176 JEAN PAUL FR1EDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. Ill .would have afforded room and temptation. It is impos- sible that wickedness and presence of mind can be so great in a child, that in this confusing assault he will declare the seeming omniscience of the parental inquiry to be a lie, by himself giving a bold lying denial of the fact. Children, like savages, have a propensity to lie, which has chiefly reference to the past, and behind which, as Rous- seau's lie about the ribbon proves, the truthfulness of riper years is developed. Baser and more dangerous than lies about what is past are prospective lies, or those about the future, by which the child, else the echo of the present, anni hilating himself, declares, with the consciousness of doing so, the design of a long contrary course of bad action : the lie of the past steals good money, the lie of the future coins false. The carefully moral use of a similar leading question at least renders difficult the so dangerous success of the titular truth of a lie ; for one successful lie is the mother of lies ; and out of every wind-egg the devil hatches his basilisks. One word about after-anger ! A serious punishment of a child is scarcely so important as the quarter of an hour immediately succeeding, and the transition to forgiveness. After the hour of storm every seed-word finds a softened warm ground ; fear and hatred of the punishment, which at first hardened and struggled against what was said, are now past, and gentle instruction falls in and heals, as hoaey relieves a sting and oil cures wounds. During this hour one may speak much, if the gentlest possible tone of voice be used, aud soften the grief of others by showing our own. But every long winter of after- wrath is poisonous ; at most an after-grief, not an after-punishment, is allowable. Mothers, viewing every thing on the foundation of love, and so treating their children like their husbands, fall easily into this after-punishment, chiefly because it better agrees with their activity, gladly dividing itself into little parts, and because they, unlike the man, who sets the stem round Avith thorns, willingly cover the leaves with prickles. I have dearest lady-readers, met the gentlest, mildest, " Blondinas " in public places, who, neverthelesss, in the nursery (and in the servants' hall too) resembled beautiful white roses, which prick as sharply as the fullest and £HAP. VII. J LEVANA. 177 reddest. Unfortunately it is often the case that women, like so many authors (myself, for example) do not know when to stop and say, Halt ! A word which I have hither- to vainly sought in every female dictionary, and in every female street-quarrel. Now this after-anger, this should- be-punishing appearance of loving less, either passes over the child, living only in the present and resembling a beast which immediately after the greatest pain and madness eats on peaceably, without being understood and without having any effect ; or, from the same sense of the present, the child reconciles himself to the want of marks of affec- tion, and learns to do without love : or his little heart is embittered by the continued punishment of a buried fault ; and so by this after-rancour the beautiful affecting pas- sage to forgiveness is lost, which by long gradations is weakened. But afterwards this after-tax of punishment, so dear to women, may do good service when the girl is about thirteen years old, and the boy fourteen : this later, riper age counts so much past in its present that the long regretful seriousness of a father or a mother must move and influence a youth or a maiden at the time when their hearts thirst for love ; in this case coldness ripens and sweetens the fruit, whereas earlier it only kills the blossom. Is there any thing more beautiful than a mother who, after a punishment, speaks to her child with gentle earnestness and serious love ? And yet there is something even more beautiful — a father who does the same. What is to be followed as a rule of prudence, yea of justice, towards grown-up people, should be much more observed towards children ; namely, that one should never judgingly declare, for instance, " You are a liar," or even, " You are a bad boy," instead of saying, " You have told an untruth," or " You have done wrong." For, since the power to command yourself implies at the same time the power of obeying, man feels, a minute after his fault, as free as Socrates : and the branding mark of his nature, not of the deed, must seem to him a blameworthy punishment. To this must be added that every individual's wrong actions, owing to his inalienable sense of a moral aim and hope, seem to him only short, usurped interregnums of the d e vil, or comets in the uniform solar system. The child, 178 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH PJCHTER. [FRAG. III. consequently, under such a moral annihilation, feels the wrong-doing of others more than his own ; and this all the more because in him want of reflection, and the general warmth of his feelings, represent the injustice of others in a more ugly light than his own. If it be permitted to the state only to declare actions, not men, dishonourable — except in cases where it adjudges the loss of life with that of honour, because loss of honour is the extinction of humanity ; and every heart, however degraded, still preserves indestructible the life-germ that may grow up into the restoration of the man : — then is it still more sinful, by the cruel frost of ignominious punish- ment, to injure this life-seed in the child, which as yet only bears unripe and growing members. You may give him as rewards, coats of arms, chains and stars of orders, and doctors' hats — or, as punishments, take all these away ; but do not let the punishments of honour be greater ; that is to say, do not let them be positive, as the dunces' caps and wooden horses of many schools are. Shame is the cold Orcus of the inner man ; a spiritual hell, without redemption, wherein the damned can become nothing else but at most one devil more. Therefore, even Gedicken's advice, to oblige a child deserving punishment to write a theme about his fault, is to be rejected (except dt a somewhat later period) ; for what else can this raking up of the inner slough produce but either foul, complete sinking and incrustation of the fallen child, or poisonous stunning of the better by marsh exhalations? And does not the tender being thus harden and accustom himself to a contradiction between words and feelings ? Somewhat similar is the punishment of kissing the hand which has inflicted chastisement. The state and education do so mutually work after and imitate one another! I only cite as an example the disgraceful retractation of an injury. For, as no civic power can remove the opinion of the injurer, the command to revoke his words is only the command for a lie, and every other punishment would be juster and more acceptable, than this dictated self-pro- fanation, whereby the man — against other rules of justice — must show himself up as the house-witness of his own shame. Only the judge, not one of the parties, can justlj CHAP. VIII.] LEVANA. 179 (not morally) restore honour to the other ; for else he could also take away what he gave back.* Still stranger is it that in the more refined degrees of recantation the defendant loses in his own honour what of another's he restores to the plaintiff — like a master of the mint who becomes bankrupt. But back to our ill-treated child ! Are not the wounds which an honoured warrior scarcely feels made deep and burning by dishonour ? so the dis- honoured and helpless being struck by two blows hangs between heaven and earth, scourged both in body and soul, and languishingly desolate. But, ye parents and teachers, in a less degree, but in the same way, do you inflict inward and outward torments on the weak hearts when — as is so often — you surround with thorns the corporeal, or other punishments, by derision of their appearance, or by ludicrous names. Never let the least pain be inflicted scoffingly, but seriously, oftener sadly. The sorrow of the parents purifies that of the child. For example, if the royal pupil of Fenelon gave way to ebulli- tions of passion, this bishop of Cambray — more properly of Patmos, for he might have been the second disciple whom Jesus loved — commanded all the servants to wait on the king's son seriously and silently, and so let stillness preach. CHAPTER VIII. SCREAMING AND CRYING OF CHILDREN. § 66. The best about this is already written, and the gleanings, too, along with it. All that need be done more is-^to do what is written ; and this I expect from the women for the first time if they have children in the second world, or * But here nothing is said or is above intended against (rather for) the old German fashion which, without judicial intervention, left simply to the two parties (for an honour-stealer was forthwith a judge of honour before the end of the matter) the determination of their honours bv a trial of strength. H 2 180 JEAN PAUL FRIED-RICH EICHTER. [FRAG. III. at all events in the third. But now their weak, five-sensed heart is driven to and fro hy the crying and screaming of children, as by winds and waves ; and, since they them- selves often perform miracles with the liquidising blood of St. Januarius, that is, with tears, it is nattiral that they shxmld melt at the flowing tears of others. Only to the man, for whom eye-water frequently becomes a petrifying water, shall a few mollifying considerations be here pre- sented ; so that every screaming of a child shall not make him a savage, a beast, and worse than a beast. As Kubens by one stroke converted a laughing into a crying child, so nature frequently makes this stroke in the original : a child's eye, like the sun, never draws water so readily as in the hot temperature of pleasure ; for instance, after the return from a playing party of children. Their mirth very easily passes beyond the first extreme verge, which, by exhaustion, leads to the second. Moreover, consider that children have their hypochondriacal sufferings — days and hours of rain, just as much as their parents ; that the four great seasonal wheels on quarter days also affect young nerves, and that the child's quick- silver easily falls and rises with that in the glass, before storms and cold weather.* You should not, however, consider it in order to give more way to it, or more to ward it off, but just to make nothing out of it, neither anxiety nor sermons. Since women so willingly translate their sensations into words, and by their talkativeness distinguish them- selves, more than we do ourselves, from parrots, among which class of birds the females talk little — hence only the males are brought to Europe — so we must consider the prologue to speech in little girls, that is, some crying and screaming, as the overflow of the future stream. A * The parallel line, or rather parallel zigzag, between our corporeal world and the outer universe would have been correctly laid down long ago if the great changes produced by the weather in our bodies had rot appeared in the weaker part before their occurrence, in some along with it, and in stronger natures afterwards, so that the same weather makes one person ill which seems to restore another, on whom, in fact, the future is exerting its influence. From a similar reason the mother of the ebb and flow of the tide, the moon, was so long unknown because they followed her after an interval of hours or even dayo. CHAP. VIII.] LEVANA. 181 boy must digest bis pain without water, a girl may have a few drops after it. Children have, in common with weak men, an incapa- bility of instantaneous cessation from what they are doing. Often no threatening can stop their laughter : remember the converse in their crying, in order to treat their weak- ness as a physician rather than as a judge. §67. We may divide children's hurts, or crying at hurts, into four, like the four feelers of a snail, with which they touch the ground. First, screaming about some outward hurt, a fall for instance. Here nothing is more injurious than — what is so desirable in all requisitions to the child — the soft, compassionate mother's voice : the compassion of another joins in with what he feels for himself, and he cries on for pleasure. Either say dryly, " Courage," " Be quiet," " It doesn't signify ;" or, still better, repeat some merry old Da-capo word, " Hoppa " for instance. The strength or weakness of the child must decide whether you should in the first case choke the pain by an absolute forbiddal of its outbreak — since victory over the sign by distraction and division becomes a victory over the thing — or, in the second, let nature heal itself by those inner- home methods, which in grown-up people are exclamations and curses, and tears and noise. You need not answer mo, " Very common advice," for I reply, " But of very rare accomplishment." The unaltered course of old coun- sellors ought to produce an improved one in the hearers. §68. In the second kind of crying, on the contrary, that caused by illness, the gentle, soothing mother's voice is in its right place — namely, by the sick bed. And for what other reason than this, because the little spiritual I oi- l-let, whose place it is to govern and direct the physical, is itself attacked and plundered, and the mind, lying in iron chains, knows not how to bear " the order of the irou crown " ? Here you must indulge complainings, yet witii 182 JEAN PAUL FEIEDEICH EICHTEE. [FEAG. III. out paying more attention to them than at other times. Maintain the spiritual regimen, oven if you must change the physical. Children in sickness are morally distorted ; the sick-bed improves — the sick-cradle injures. No sick child ever yet died of good education. But why are we so serious on this point but because too frequently, in private, the whole education of childish humanity is only made into the nurse of physical progress ; as (if the expres- sion may be allowed) men use the holy breath of life to turn the sails of windmills, and the next world as a swimming oladder on our earth ? Bad enough ! Every unholy thing sets before itself (and others) a period from which it will first begin to contemplate the eternity of the Holy ; as if humanity were attached to some future year, the twentieth, thirtieth, sixtieth, instead of to every present moment. Where, and in what age and place, will the fear of hurting life by the strict consistency of education be overcome ? Think always only of the best ; the good vill soon appear. §69. The third kind of crying is that used to get something. Here hold fast Bousseau's advice, Never let the child obtain an inch of ground by this war-cry ; only the mis- fortune is, women are never to be moved to this patient indifference towards screaming. But they say to him, " No, you shall have nothing while you are so naughty ; but, when you have done crying, you shall see what I will give you." And does the little despot want any- thing more ? The greatest thing it might be permitted a mother to do in her distress would be, if her little tributary king were young enough, to bring down and offer him the usual tribute and exchequer bills, instead of this extraor- dinary war-tax ; i.e., to grant him a different, instead of the required, gift. But, heavens ! has one then never seen how happy a child is who knows no orders, and consequently no foreign stubbornness — who skips away as laughingly after a no, as after a yes — who by no changing arbitrariness between permission and restraint, between yes and no, to which a victorious screaming fit always leads in the end, has not yet made the first bitter experience of injustice ; CHAP. IX.] LEVANA 183 and who, consequently, receives no other nor deeper wounds than those which can strike the body ? Mothers, have you never yet seen this happy child ? Try it, for an experiment, in one point ; for instance, strictly forbid your child of about two years and three-quarters old ever to touch your watch, even if the watch lie openly every day on your work-table, and only act thus three days together so as never to contradict yourself — you will curse your former " forfeit moneys." § 70. Against the fourth kind of crying — about loss, from fear, from vexation — the imposition of some occupation is useful. Or thus : you earnestly demand the child's at- tention, and begin a long speech ; it is quite indifferent where it at last ends ; it is sufficient that the child has exerted himself and forgotten his misfortune. The thunder-spark, of a harsh word is very good — " Quiet ! " for instance. Never let the mind's green and yellow sickness — ill-temper — spread over the whole being. Hence it is very important, especially with little children, never to wait for the full outbreak of ill-humour, but at once to mark and repress its first smallest indication. For the rest, never put to flight naughtinesses which die away with years by those which grow with years : the tears of child- hood dry up before the sighs of manhood commence. CHAPTER IX. OX THE TRUSTFULNESS OF CHILDREN. §71. Long before the child can speak he understands the speech of others, and that without gestures or cadence in the voice ; jiist as we understand a foreign language without being able to speak it. It is for this reason that this chapter is placed here. 184 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH EICHTER. [FRAG. III. One need but lend nearer objects to the child-faith (fides implicita) of the elder theologians,* and their expression becomes important and true. If the child have in his own father a holy father, with all the advantages of infallibility, and with the additional protection of a holy mother — if, retaining the discourse of a stranger at once with belief and unbelief, he bring it to his parents and ask, Is it true? — if to him, according to the primary propositions of the Wolfian philosophy, the father be the proposition of the sure foundation, the mother the proposition of doubt and the teacher the proposition of the undistinguishable ; — if he, believing without proof, set a pair of human beings against the whole outer world and equal to his own inner world ; if, when threatened, he rely with no more con- fidence on the bodily strength of the parental arms than on their spiritual power ; if all this be so, it reveals a treasure of humanity which, to value according to its worth, we need but to find and behold in older hearts. What then rests on this yet unmeasured faith in men? In the intellectual world nearly every thing ; and in the moral world at least as much. The intellectual world, it is true, will be least ready to grant this of itself. But what do we know of any island whatever which a voyager discovers more than our faith in him gives? Or what of whole continents? A rough seafarer by his testimony governs a geographic continent in the learned world. If you oppose to me the multitude of witnesses — although few distant countries have as many witnesses as a testamentary document — I answer, Even out of the multitude of witnesses no weight of probability would ensue if the great faith in one individual were not strengthened by the multiplication of individuals. Man believes man more readily about the distant and the vast — about former centuries and quarters of the globe, than about what is near and small ; and he does not permit in a stranger the probability of a lie to increase with the facility and impunity of uttering it, but with the very reverse. Thus we glean our Eoman and Grecian history chieiy * Who understood thereby the faith imparted to children and heathens in the hour of death. CHAP. IX.] LEV ANA. 185 from their own testimony — for we ourselves contradict the Persians who contradict Herodotus— and we do not make half the difficulty about the collateral testimony of a thousand other witnesses (for no historian ever experienced all that he calls to life and describes) concerning a succes- sion of a million actions, which lawyers do about one single matter of fact for which they require two witnesses. What gives us this certainty ? Faith in humanity, and so in men, and consequently in one individual. So, further, the sciences of medicine, of astronomy, natural history, chemistry, are built up sooner and more extensively on others' experience than on our own : conse- quently on faith. Even our convictions from philosophical calculations call in trust in others to aid the probability that we have not miscalculated. And wherefore does an irresistible longing impel us so strongly 10 the. opinions of great men about the foundations of our being, about God and our own souls, but because we believe their assurances more than the proofs of others and of ourselves ? And how does not intoxicated youth hang — like bees on flowering lime-trees — drinking in the spirit of a celebrated teacher ? But this faith reveals most richly its glorious form when its object is moral. Here the heart is refreshed by true bliss-imparting faith. In the intellectual world ono trusts to what you say — in the moral, to what you are. As lovers trust each other, as the friend trusts the friend, and the noble heart trusts humanity, and the faithful trust God — this is the Peter's rock, the fast foundation of human worth. Alexander, who drank the suspicious medicine, was greater than the physician who made it healing instead of poisonous ; it is nobler to exercise a dangerous confidence than to deserve it : but wherein consists the divinity of this trustfulness ? Not by any means merely in this — that you cannot presuppose any power of vital danger in another without knowing and possessing it actively in yourself — -for you may both know and possess it, and yet not presuppose it ; and then in dangers, as in the case of Alexander, the trustful only is endangered — not the trusted. But herein consists the triumphal banner of faith in humanity, and the civio crown of heaven ; that the trusting must forbear and remain 186 JEAN PAUL FPJEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. III. quiet — which, as in war, so in everything else, is more difficult than to do and struggle — and that faith, although the matter in hand be but a single case, yet beholds and embraces all cases, a whole life. He who rightly trusts shows that he has seen the moral deity face to face ; and there is, perhaps, no higher moral gratification on earth than this — if sense and testimony attack the friend in your heart to hurl him thence, even then to stand by him with the God in you, to preserve and to love him, not as formerly, but more deeply. Therefore, if this trustfulness be the holy spirit in man, a lie is the sin against that spirit ; since we place another's word so high — even above our own — that according to Pascal, a man to whom any sin was ascribed would at last believe and realise it. Platner maintains that the weaker the brain the more readily it believes, as is seen in drunken persons, sickly women, and children : but the question here becomes whether this (merely physical) weakness which affords room for so many tender develop- ments of the heart — for love, inspiration, religion, poetry — does not prepare, though at the cost of the other powers, the true, pure loneliness of absolute dominion to the holiest of the perceptions, the perception of the holiness of others ? The English are more easy of belief than any other nation, but neither weaker nor weak : they hate a lie too much ever to presuppose it. I return to the trustfulness of children. Nature has, as if figuratively, richly prepared them for reception : the bones of the ear are, according to Haller, the only ones which are as large in the child as in the grown-up man ; or, to use another simile, the veins of imbibition are, accord- ing to Darwin, the fuller the younger they are. Holily preserve childlike trust, without which there can be no education. Never forget that the •little dark child looks up to you as to a lofty genius, an apostle full of revelations, whom he trusts altogether more absolutely than his equals, and that the lie of an apostle destroys a whole moral world. Wherefore never bury your infallibility by CHAP. IX. j LEVANA. 187 useless proofs, nor by confessions cf error : the admission of your ignorance comports better with you. Power and scepticism the child can sufficiently early, and not at your charges, polemically and protestantly exercise and strengthen on the declared opinions of strangers. Do not in the least degree support religion and morality by reasons : even the multitude of pillars darken and contract churches. Let the Holy in yourself be directed (without lock and turnkey) to the Holy in the child. Faith — like the innate morality, the patent of the nobility of humanity brought with it from heaven — opens the little heart to the great old heart. To injure this faith is to resemble Calvin who banished music out of the churches : for faith is the echo of the heavenly music of the spheres. When in your last hour — think well of it — all in the broken spirit fades and dies, poems, thoughts, strivings, rejoicings : even then the night-flower of faith still blooms on and refreshes with its perfume in the last darkness. 188 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [ FRAG. III. APPENDIX TO THE THIRD FRAGMENT. ON PHYSICAL EDUCATION. The expression is, properly, false ; for as the science of care of the body it would equally apply to beasts, strong men, and the aged ; the cook would be a Labonne, and the kitchen a magazine of school-books. Permit me here to insert some observations on attention to the bodies of children which I addressed to a newly-married man shortly before his wife's confinement. (Some readers will not agree so theoretically with this letter as my three children, who, during the printing and distribution of the first edition, were educated in accordance with it, practically did, by their flourishing condition.) You may freely inform your dear wife why I write now on this point instead of half a year later ; namely, because she is now still trustful, but will, in time to come, be as disobedient as possible. I have known the most in- telligent women who have really assisted and followed up the wishes of their most intelligent husbands in regard to the physical care of their child until the second had not yet arrived ; but then, or at most when the fourth came, the dietetic kitchen-Latin and medicinal patois of the women assumed the government, and nothing more could be effected than one or two propositions without results. A woman during her first pregnancy might easily commit to memory Hufeland's " Good Advice to Mothers," since in the new edition there would be but three and a half pages to be learned monthly. But Heaven preserve every one from that timid over- carefulness with mistrusts nature, and has every child's tooth extracted by the physician or apothecary ! If one venture nothing upon children, yet one ventures them- selves : their bodies probably, their minds certainly. Only let a person observe the rosy children in lonely APPENDIX.] LEPANA. 189 villages, where the whole Brownian apothecary's shop has nothing in its phials save brandy ; or the descendants of savages compared with the fading Flora of noble houses, for which every-day draughts of every possible kind are compounded. However, nowhere is Hufeland's " Good Advice to Mothers " less attended to than in the huts of peasants and beggars. There one sees many little pale creatures looking out of the narrow windows when one goes out on sledging expeditions. But they bloom again with the earth ; the open air makes them rosy sooner than the sun does the apple. Hunters, savages, mountaineers, soldiers — all contend with all their powers for the advantages of fresh air ; all those who have lived to be a century and a half old were beggars ; and in fact if a man wish to become nothing but old, and to continue nothing but healthy, there is no more wholesome, fresh-air-imbibing exercise than begging ; nevertheless mothers believe that a child, placed for half an hoiir at an open window, inhales out of a town, which itself is but a larger room and merely contains street air instead of house air, as much ethereal breath as is necessary to purify and cleanse twenty-three hours and a half of cavern air. Does no one remember, or no one remind her with all her dread of air, that during the miserable autumn weather she travelled, on account of the war, three days long, with her infant baby in an open vehicle through the pure fresh air, without any other particular in- jury than that of being brought hither ? Could no chemist, by visible representations of the different kinds of poisonous air, impart to the mothers in towns a sense of the value of heaven's free air, in order to break them of their care- lessness about the only invisible and ever active element ? Why do you write, — " I fear nothing so much as the procuring of a wet-nurse " ? — Two of my children, precisely the strongest, were brought up without the breast. But if a nurse be commonly healthy, and have not much less given her to do, nor much more to eat than during her necessitous solitude, she may any day enter your service. Certainly I do not offer myself as security against any mental poisoning by her morals and care, any more than 190 JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. [FRAG. Ill, I do for all women servants from the midwife downwards ; an honest, old, but good-tempered man-servant, your John, for instance, would be much better for a child's heart than any nurse and child's maid ; just as at a later period, for the same reason, children are more spoiled and enervated in the friendly, praising, indulgent society of women than in the cold, dry company of men. As regards the physical empoisonment of the milk by mental excitement, I should prefer the nurse to the lady. One often sees a common mother, as a bombarding ship or bomb-shell, foster that kind of conversation with another woman which is the only one in this world that has never grown wearisome and which men call wrangling and abusing ; but the suckling has observed or cried little about it. On the contrary, a lady, whom a false stitch of her maid, like the sting of a tarantula, sets into an armed dance, may poison it three or four times a day. What concerns another mental poison-draught for the child I utterly deny. If, as I believe I am able to prove, no partial transmigration of soul from the mother into the new-born child be possible, how much less can mind in- fluence mind by means of a nourishment which first affects the stomach ! One might just as well believe, with the Caribbees, that pork produces small eyes ; or, with the Brazilians, that the flesh of ducks imparts the lazy awk- ward pace of a duck.* On this principle, goat's milk, and perhaps most nurses' milk, would have the same effect as that of Jupiter's nurse, which so completely transformed the god that he may be employed as anything rather than an example of many of the ten commandments. Bechstein, it is true, remarks that otters may be tamed by human milk ; but one may find a much nearer and truer cause in the circumstances which such a milk-diet presupposes. Much contention may take place about the relation of the mother's milk to the child's body. If a healthy stomach, like death, make all alike, potatoes, bread, venison steaks, ship biscuits, ale, insects (crabs), worms (snails), and, finally, human flesh, into the same chyle, will not the stomach of a child be able to reduce its nurse's milk to the same substance? And does not Hi, * Home's ' History of Mankind,' ?cl. ii. APFENDIX.] LEVANA. 191 child's body, in all its organic peculiarities, as frequently resemble its father as its mother? Why, if the milk (instead of organisation) effect so much, are not most of the nobility giants, since peasants' milk is often added to aristocratic blood as wine to water ? Indeed, on the ground of the influence of maternal relationship, there would be more to determine for, than against, a nurse. The body ceaselessly polarises itself; consequently the nitrogen, for instance, of the nurse would counterbalance the oxygen of the lady ; and, on the other side, a town lady would be the best official nurse of a peasant boy. A cosmopolite tutor and diet master might go still farther, and, in order all-sidedly to exercise and train a swaddled child — mummies are swaddled corpses and helmsmen swaddled men — insist on its having one day, ass's milk (the positive pole, thesis), the next, dog's milk (the nega- tive pole, antithesis), the day after, human milk (indiffer- ence, synthesis). As early as possible determine the hours of eating, and consequently the times for sleep ; only observing that in the first years the intervals must be more frequent and shorter than afterwards. The stomach is such a creature of habit, such a time- keeper, that if, when hungry, we delay its usual period of gratification for a few hours, it does nothing but reject food. But if its hours of compulsory service be appointed it works beyond its powers. It is only in later years when the sketch and colours of the little man are more strongly marked that middle tints and half shadows may be ventured on ; a child, like a savage, is often freed, often made a slav , by sleep and eating ; the physical nature is then either exercised or vanquished, and the spiritual is crowned in both cases. Do not keep the tumult of daily life far distant from the little infant, as though it were an aristocratic patient. If you do not actually permit the fire bell or the discharge of artillery to be heard by its cradle, its long deep slumber in the world will so harden it against every noise, that afterwards, when its ears are quicker, it will yet be able to sleep in the midst of noise; and what is still better, and prevents injurious night feeding, it will only sleep* all 192 JEAN PAUL FRIEDEICH RICHTER. [FRAG. III. the sounder in the contrasting stillness of night. I earnestly contend against suckling in the night ; for your wife ought to sleep ; and it is quite sufficient if she sucklo her little darling shortly before going to sleep, and then again immediately after wakening. It is a trifle, hut so is a line ; why may I not give one to the other ? I mean, why do you lay the head of a new-born child higher than its body ? In the months preceding birth the body actually stood on the head ; I should think that a horizontal direction after a perpendicular was quite sufficient ; where- fore, then, create a new want, or prevent the subsequent use of a remedy, which the higher placing of the head is to children in case of colds, by employing it before it is needed ? With regard to animal food, most people say — Wait till there are teeth to bite it. Why ? toothless children take, with advantageous effects, broths, and the strongest honey- thick extract of meat that I know, the yolk of eggs. Even flesh-meat is less to be objected to on account of its size, since it may be cut quite as small as it can be chewed, than on account of its being swallowed without chewing, that is, without saliva. But children enjoy and digest milk and broth almost entirely without previous gastric juice, the saliva, as birds of prey do pieces of flesh. Pro- bably large pieces are chiefly injurious because we take more of them and quicker than little ones in the same time ; for the stomach reckons satiety — in hunger as in thirst — not according to quantity (for a pint of water will frequently not quench the thirst as well as a slice of lemon) but according to organic assimilation : hence of no kind of food does one more easily eat so much too much as of what is indigestible ; because the difficult and more lardy assimilation delays and conceals the feeling of satiety. What digestion is, no physiologist has hitherto been able to explain. The gastric juice which is said to excite or produce hunger (is there any thirst juice for thirst ?) with its few spoonfuls is not sufficient — when diluted and surrounded by a bottle of wine and a plate of soup, as a grain of arsenic by oil — to dissolve a Styrian cock's comb, not to mention an early meal, or even a late one. The gentle animal warmth which, as August is the APPENDIX.] LEVANA. 193 wine-cook, ought to be the cooking-wine of food, is cooled and deluged by cold liquids with less of disadvantage than advantage to the digestion. If the stomach of men, as their nature in general, work as an ellipse, with two foci, and so not merely as a membranaceous vulture stomach, but also as a fleshy poultry stomach, and along with chemical possess also mechanical force, I do not understand how a pressure — that, for instance, of meat -broth or of gruel — assists it in digestion. But we are concerned with the thing itself, not with its explanation. Flesh-meat seems especially useful to coun- teract the weakness of childhood and the superabundance of sour food ; since even the young of granivorous birds are fed advantageously with eggs, ■worms and insects. A slight and rare surfeit will exercise and strengthen the stomach's power of endurance : only do not let the beast of burden be overloaded with easily injurious substances, such as eggs or meat, but with things of moderately long duration, such as pulse or potatoes. Why do not people give children, at times when they will not take their food, sugar (as distinct from con- fections as food from poison) on whose nourishing sub- stance the negro feeds himself and his horse during journeys of days together ? During the earliest years — I was about to commence so again, but without any reason, — for the strict ordering of life only comprehends a period sufficiently long to raise and fasten the scaffolding of life. But as the danger of death diminishes every day — it is well known to be greatest at first — growing freedom and powerful many-sidedness must arm the child against all the two-and- thirty winds and storms of life. Tea and coffee, as well as cakes and fruit, are generally given much more willingly and abundantly to children than wholesome wine as a tonic, and wholesome hopped beer as a drink ; whereas it were much better not to give the two liquids at all, cakes very seldom, and fruit abundantly only in the early glowing years. As to the emperor Joseph II., who by an ordinance of 1785 forbade that wine should be given to children * (somewhat as * No imperial law would be less likely than this to be observed in I. 194 JEAN PAUL FEIEDRICH EICHTER. [FRAG. IH. +obacco, hops, and Peruvian bark were at an earlier date prohibited j — I put him to flight by the children of the many wine-countries, who have not yet perished thereby; else would there meanwhile be no longer a right bank t