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 BX 4827 .S3 A35 1860 v. 2 
 Schleiermacher, Friedrich, 
 
 1768-1834. 
 The life of Schleiermacher 
 
 -C ~ 1 J^ J J _ 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 SCHLEIERMACHER, 
 
 AS UNFOLDED IN 
 
 HIS AUTOBIOGMPHY AND LETTERS. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 
 
 BY FREDERICA ROWAN 
 
 IX TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 WITH A PORTRAIT. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 LONDON: 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO., G5, CORNHILL 
 
 M.DCCC.LX. 
 
LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 FRIEDRICH ERNST SCHLEIERMACHER 
 
 AS 
 
 UNFOLDED IN HIS LETTERS. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 FROM SCHLEIERMACHER' S APPOINTMENT IN HALLE 
 (OCTOBER, 1804) UNTIL HIS MARRIAGE IN MAY, 1809. 
 
 In Halle, whither Schleiermacher went in October, 
 1804, he formed a warm friendship for Steffens, which 
 continued for many years, although their direct co-ope- 
 ration in life ceased already in the year 1806, in con- 
 sequence of the stormy times which led to the dissolu- 
 tion of the University. While at Halle, he took his 
 half-sister Nanni to live with him, and she remained in 
 his house, even after his marriage, until the year 1817, 
 when she became the wife of E. M. Arndt. In Fe- 
 bruary, 1807, Schleiermacher's friend Willich died, at 
 the age of thirty, in Stralsund, of a nervous fever that 
 raged there during the siege, leaving his widow, then 
 only eighteen years old, with a little daughter, and a 
 son, who was born shortly after the father's death. 
 
 Subsequently, Henriette von Willich lived with her 
 children in the island of Rügen, in close proximity to 
 
 VOL. II. B 
 
2 LIFE OF SCHLEIEEMACHER. 
 
 her relatives ; and lier correspondence Avitli Schleier- 
 macher continued and gradually assumed a more and 
 more intimate character, until in the summer of 1808, 
 during a visit to Rügen, he engaged himself to her. 
 In May, 1809, they were married, and Schleiermacher 
 took his bride to Berlin, where he soon obtained a 
 regular appointment, and a new sphere of activity, 
 at the re-constituted University. Schleiermacher was 
 then forty-one years of age, and his wife only twenty- 
 one ; but though at first very reserved, and, as it 
 were, overruled by the superior and far more mature 
 mind of her husband, her peculiar nature, nourished 
 by him, gradually developed itself more decidedly and 
 more independently, as was indeed quite in accordance 
 with his wishes; and the influence which she on her 
 side exercised over him is repeatedly expressed in his 
 subsequent letters. 
 
 [The subjoined passages, borrowed from the Memoirs 
 of H. Steffens, afford some interesting characteristics of 
 Schleiermacher at the period of his first appearance at 
 Halle. Speaking of his own appointment as professor of 
 natural philosophy at that university, Steffens says : K I 
 was there to meet a man whose acquaintance was destined 
 to form an epoch in my life. This was Schleiermacher, 
 who was at the same time as myself, or a few weeks 
 later, called to Halle as professor extraordinarily. 
 Schleicrmacher, as is well known, was small of stature 
 and slightly deformed, but so slightly as hardly to be 
 disfigured by it. His movements were quick and ani- 
 mated, his features highly expressive. A certain sharp- 
 ness in his eye acted, perhaps, repulsively at times. He 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 3 
 
 seemed, indeed, to look through every one. He was 
 a few years older than myself. His face was long, his 
 features sharply defined, his lips firmly and severely 
 closed, his chin prominent, his eyes lively and full of 
 fire, his look always earnest, collected, and self-possessed. 
 I saw him under various circumstances in life — deeplv 
 meditative and sportive, mild and fired with anger, 
 moved by joy and sorrow — but ever an unalterable 
 composure, greater, mightier than every passing emo- 
 tion, seemed to dominate his being. A slight expression 
 of irony played round his features ; the sincerest sym- 
 pathy ever animated his heart ; and an almost childlike 
 goodness shone through the outward calm. His con- 
 stant presence of mind had sharpened his senses in a 
 most remarkable degree. Even while engaged in the 
 most animated conversation, nothing escaped him. He 
 saw everything that was passing around him, and 
 heard everything, even the most low-toned conversa- 
 tion. . . . We attached ourselves at once and 
 unconditionally to each other. . . . We lived on 
 the most intimate terms, Ave shared each other's views, 
 thoughts, and even likes and dislikes. With the family 
 Reichardt,* Schleiermacher lived as I did : we walked 
 together, made excursions together, went into society 
 together, and our best auditors, those who were in full 
 earnest, we had in common. His lectures on ethics, and 
 mine on natural philosophy, seemed to our hearers to 
 be intimately connected, and to supplement each other. 
 We mutually communicated to each other what we 
 knew; and if Schleiermacher profited by my lectures 
 * The family into which Steffens had married. 
 
 B 2 
 
4 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 on physics, he, in return, opened up to me Greek phi- 
 losophy, and through him I became acquainted with 
 Plato. . . . The more deeply, the more earnestly, 
 the more religiously Schleiermacher regarded life and 
 science, the more decidedly he discarded, in life as in 
 science, everything that seemed to him hollow and use- 
 less. Nay, he seemed, indeed, sometimes to delight in 
 setting outward forms at defiance, and many exaggerated 
 and even false reports about him circulated in the town, 
 and probably spread even further. People used, among 
 other things, to tell each other of how the Professor of 
 Theology went about botanizing in a green jacket and 
 light-coloured trousers, with a tin case slung across his 
 back."* 
 
 This picture is confirmed and completed in a passage 
 in the work Die deutschen Universitäten, by Karl von 
 Kaumer, who, having lived in Halle from 1806 to 1808, 
 describes Schleiermacher as follows : — " A small, quiet, 
 ever self-possessed man. In society, he never fell into 
 speechifying. He followed attentively what others said ; 
 formed a clear perception of it, and expressed his agree- 
 ment or his disagreement with his well-known dialectical 
 acuteness and skill. He was never seen in a state of 
 passionate excitement ; even when anything roused his 
 indignation;; though he expressed his displeasure ener- 
 getically, he never lost his self-possession, and never 
 overstepped the bounds of moderation. His command 
 over himself was further shown in his power of con- 
 centrating his attention even on subjects into the depths 
 of which it was not given to him to enter. In this 
 * Heinrich Steffens. Was ich erlebte. 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 5 
 
 way he made himself at home in such matters also as were 
 in fact foreign to his nature. The almost tyrannical 
 mastery which he exercised over himself was likewise 
 shown in small matters, and perhaps more in these than 
 in others. On one occasion, for instance, when a dispute 
 had arisen as to whether the Low -German pronunciation 
 of sp, st, &c, or the South-German pronunciation of 
 these letters as schp, seht, &c, were most euphonious 
 and most correct, Schleiermacher gave his vote in favour 
 of the Low-German. ' Why then,' asked some one 
 present, f do you not adhere to this pronunciation in 
 the pulpit?' Instead of excusing himself with early 
 habit, he replied, 'From next Sunday I will begin to 
 do so.' I have been assured that he carried out his 
 determination without once forgetting himself."]* 
 
 Schleiermacher to JE. and H. von Willich. 
 
 [ccxxvi.] Halle, 17th October, 1804. 
 
 You cannot but know, dear friends, that my heart has 
 communed with you, though my pen has not, and therefore I 
 need not tell it you. Yes, you must be aware that through 
 your felicity you bestow upon me a happiness such as I have 
 never before known, and such as I can never again know, 
 except through you. For although I cannot possibly wish or 
 predict for you a more beautiful wedded life than Wedeke's, 
 I did not Avitness and share in his from its first holy com- 
 mencement, as in your case. Spare me, then, the expression 
 of what I felt on reading the first accounts of your new and 
 full life. They were to me also a wedding feast, a bridal 
 embrace of my most beautiful and most cherished ideal. I 
 was with }'ou, and around you ; and indeed I am so still, and 
 it is impossible to imagine a stronger contrast than between 
 
 * The passages between brackets have been added by the translator. 
 
6 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 my constant living with you in thought, and my total absti- 
 nence from writing. Do not punish me for what has already 
 caused me so much pain, but satisfy my longings very soon. 
 Anything new you cannot indeed have to tell me ; the same 
 spirit, the same life must prevail throughout, yet the separate 
 events of that life are as important to me as they are to you, 
 and I long to go through them with you. Did I not prophesy 
 about you both in the Monologues? Do you not repeat my 
 feelings in new and living truth, Ehrenfried, when you say 
 that your wife is to you daughter and beloved maiden, and 
 mother ? Believe me, dear souls, I become quite romantic and 
 fantastic when I think of you ! I seem to love your marriage, 
 independently of yourselves, as if it were a distinct being. I 
 love it passionately, and yet tenderly and reverently ; and thus 
 it ought to be, for it is indeed a true, a beautiful, and a holy 
 union. I am already counting by half-years, when I shall be 
 able to go to you, and behold your heaven with my own eyes, 
 for it is only in reference to this that I now keep any account 
 with time. I wonder when the moment comes whether I shall 
 take my own heaven with me, and thus introduce if not a 
 clouded heaven into a heaven of joy, yet a pale German sky 
 into a bright sunshiny Italian atmosphere ? * 
 
 Henrietta Herz has probably already written to you about 
 the wretchedly disjointed life I led in Berlin. As to enjoy- 
 ment, I had but* very little of that. I lost much by the 
 unexpected death of the excellent old Mrs. Spalding, whose 
 society I had looked forward to with great pleasure, and who 
 had a similar feeling with regard to my coming. Intellectually, 
 the meeting with Johannes Midler, the Swiss, was very 
 pleasing to me, though it made me feel my insignificance in 
 point of learning, more than I have ever felt it, in comparison 
 with any of the scholars whom I have as yet met in this place. 
 For very different reasons I was pleased to become better 
 acquainted with Delbrück, the tutor of the princes. He 
 sought me out, and spoke long with me about the religious 
 
 * At this period Eleanorc had renewed her relations with him. — 
 Trans. 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 7 
 
 education of the Crown Prince; lie seemed to listen to me 
 with pleasure, and in a great measure to agree with my ideas. 
 I preached once, during my stay in Berlin, and seemingly 
 produced a desirable effect on many of the persons present. 
 But although a place in the cathedral became vacant imme- 
 diately after my arrival, the ministers would not allow me to 
 remain, but preferred .sending me hither. Many persons were 
 surprised at this, but to me it seemed very natural, as steps 
 had been taken in regard to my appointment here, which no 
 government would like to have made in vain. My reception 
 here, on all sides, was very satisfactory. The principal 
 point, it is true, still remains to be proved, namely, how the 
 students will like me, and how I shall succeed in the lecturing 
 line. On Monday next I commence, and shall give three 
 lectures on that day, in order to force myself into it at once. 
 Instead of beginning with Christian ethics, I have been 
 induced, by various circumstances, to commence with philo- 
 sophical ethics, and perhaps it is as well that I should lay the 
 foundation in this way ; the worst of it is that I have not quite 
 completed the arrangement of the whole, and fear that I may 
 forget a great many points the first day. As yet I have not 
 distinctly worked out anything, and during the three days that 
 remain I have still to make a general sketch of the three 
 courses. "With respect to my preaching to the academy, the 
 prospects seem still very distant, as the choice of a building, 
 and other external matters, have not yet been settled. 
 
 And now, dear friends, God be with you. God bless you, 
 children ! Do you often realize to yourselves how we are all 
 ever with you ? My resolution, to take my sister to live with 
 me after Easter, remains unchanged. 
 
 Schleier macher to Henrietta Herz. 
 
 [ccxxvii.] Halle, 22nd October, 1804. 
 
 I have been inducted into my office, and have already 
 commenced three courses of lectures. I am tolerably satis- 
 fied with myself, better than I expected; whether the students 
 be so likewise, I do not know ; but a great concourse there 
 
8 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIEK. 
 
 certainly has not been. Only very few have put down their 
 names, but there were more present to-day than have done 
 so ; many of these must consequently be supposed to have 
 come merely from curiosity, and will probably speedily dis- 
 appear. You know that I rather feared than desired applause 
 at first, and I am therefore pretty well pleased with the pre- 
 sent aspect of things 
 
 Scldeiermacher to E. and II. von Willicli. 
 
 [ccxxvm.] Halle, oOth October, 1804. 
 
 Yes, certainly I did know it, my dear, dear daughter, 
 when I comforted you ; certainly I did see in spirit the glo- 
 rious period which has iioav dawned upon you both. And 
 when you feel yourselves very happy, then remember that 
 this happiness is not shut up within your walls ; but that it 
 reaches me and makes me happy too. When you can find 
 leisure, dear Jette, you must describe to me your whole mode 
 of life : how you divide your time, how you feel as mistress 
 of a famity, and how you get on as such, and also what kind 
 of intercourse you keep up with other people. For you 
 must not begin with isolating yourselves. Though you may 
 suffice for each other, that is not enough. Every family, and 
 more especially such a family as you constitute, must from 
 the beginning adopt the missionary spirit, and be on the 
 look-out for some soul that it may draw towards itself and 
 save from the desolate Avaste of life. 
 
 I always think of a family as a pretty snug little room in 
 the great palace of God, as a sweet, contemplative resting- 
 place in His garden, whence the whole may be overlooked ; 
 but also as a snuggery in which one may bury oneself deejily, 
 and feel around one its narrow, cozy limits. In such, the 
 doors must not be closed, but every one must be admitted 
 who possesses the magic key, or who knows how to find his 
 way in by bending aside the branches that conceal the en- 
 trance. Is there nobody in your neighbourhood, who might 
 be inclined to knock at your door and to participate a little 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 9 
 
 in your life ? You can hardly conceive how impatient I am 
 to see everything connected with you develop itself; and I 
 should^ therefore, like to know that you are already letting 
 your light shine before others. It always seems to me one 
 of the great privileges of a clergyman, that being entitled by 
 his office to lead a retired life, he may keep aloof from bur- 
 densome conventional connections, while, on the other hand, 
 his calling points out to him the true nurslings and friends 
 of his household, whom he ought to lead by his example to 
 undeviating morality, and to a simple, rational enjoyment of 
 life. How heartily have I not rejoiced with you, my Ehren- 
 fried, that your office is of this blessed kind ! Surely a great 
 deal may be done in this Avay, in individual cases; and I 
 become daily more convinced, that even as regards the world, 
 this is the only way of proceeding, as, indeed, the true, must 
 ever be the only, way. If the idea in its purity could but 
 be brought home to the hearts of those who are led astray by 
 foolish disputes about the dead letter, and by the dialectical 
 effrontery of empty reasoning, it would be strange, indeed, 
 were they not to become friends of Christianity. 
 
 As yet I cannot say anything similar about myself and my 
 new vocation ; but in faithfulness and perseverance I shall 
 not be found wanting; and when I have acquired a degree of 
 self-confidence and freedom from restraint, proportionate to 
 the extent of order which I have now introduced into my 
 new office, I trust that my teaching will not remain without 
 fruits. I have been lecturing since the 22nd. Quite satisfied 
 I cannot possibly feel with my beginning, yet I have gained 
 the assurance that I shall not come to a standstill. You 
 will readily imagine that I only note down the leading 
 thoughts, and that otherwise I speak extemporarily, and I 
 shall persevere in this plan ; for although I do, indeed, some- 
 times omit certain things that I ought to have said, or I find 
 when I return from the lecture, that I might have placed the 
 whole matter in a clearer fight, I feel, at the same time, that 
 I shall improve in regard to these points. My Philosophical 
 Ethics give promise of shaping themselves into a very good 
 
10 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 whole, and, indeed, this is more likely to take place under 
 the present circumstances, than under any others, because of 
 the constant elaboration of the subject. The same holds 
 good of my Introduction to the Study of Theology. My 
 Lectures on the Fundamental Doctrines suffer, indeed, some- 
 what in consequence of the others, and assume a fragmentary 
 character ; but their chief object, to teach men to seek for 
 the idea underlying the conception, I trust they will attain. 
 My functions as preacher have not yet commenced, and, in 
 fact, I am glad of the little delay ; for I should otherwise 
 have felt myself too much overwhelmed just at the beginning. 
 As it is, I can now and then give a little time to the third 
 volume of Plato. Adieu, dear friend. God bless you now 
 and for ever. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henrietta Herz. 
 
 [ccxxix.] Halle, 15th November, 1804. 
 
 . I cannot beg you too urgently and too 
 often, my dear Jette, not to look so much into the future. 
 With such energy as you possess, you could not fail to feel 
 conscious of your power to bear and to control each event as 
 it occurs, were you not so much depressed by your anti- 
 cipation of coming events. Your sufferings consequently 
 arise from your habit of condensing all your difficulties. It 
 is easy to see through one pane of glass, but through ten 
 placed one upon another we cannot see. Does this prove 
 that each one is not transparent ? or are we ever called upon 
 to look through more than one at a time ? Double panes Ave 
 only have recourse to for warmth ; and just so it is with 
 life ! We have but to five one moment at a time. Keep 
 each one isolated and you will easily see your way through 
 them ; but if you will arbitrarily double them, then let it 
 be only to warm yourself with sunny prospects towards 
 Eugen 
 
 All my friends desire a little advice from time to time ; and 
 when I can thus be of comfort to them, I am glad that they 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 11 
 
 apply for it. If I do not ask for any in return, it is 
 because, merely by the fact of being my friends, you afford 
 me guidance. 
 
 Sehleiermacher to E. and II. von Willicli. 
 
 [ccxxx.] Halle, 21st November, 1804. 
 
 How I wish I could to-day say a word to all those 
 whom I love ! To each one the same, viz., that I feel how 
 their thoughts are with me to-day more especially, and that 
 their love is my highest good, without which neither the 
 world nor anything in it would have any value in my eyes. 
 To you both, more especially, you beloved ones, I say it. 
 You know how my heart cleaves to you, how I behold in 
 you the realization of the most beautiful union that I know, 
 introduced in a peculiar manner into the circle in which I 
 live ; and how, while all that regards myself is uncertain and 
 incomplete, I always look to you and feel satisfied. Not in 
 the year that commences to-day, but in the ensuing one, I 
 hope to see you. The beautiful summer time I spent with 
 you has given life new value in my eyes. I have experienced 
 with regard to you all how far more fresh and enlivening is 
 the effect produced by communion face to face, than by even 
 the most intimate interchange of thought from a distance ; 
 and my new sphere of activity, which is one of no little im- 
 portance, has also created new ties for me. With you, in 
 you, and for you, and all our other dear ones, then I live, and 
 the world must be content with what I can do for it in the 
 way of my vocation. 
 
 Henriette von Willicli to Sehleiermacher. 
 
 [ccxxxi.] 26th November, Sunday morning. 
 
 It is only to-day that I am writing to you in reality, 
 but in the long interval my spirit has often been with you, 
 and answered your dear letters ; and it so happens that I am 
 able to write to you on my much-loved Sunday morning. 
 From my earliest youth Sunday morning was always very 
 
12 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACIIEK. 
 
 precious to me. While I was at school in Grcifswald, this 
 was the only morning I had to myself, and on which I could 
 prosecute my favourite occupations. I always kept it very 
 quietly and unobtrusively. I was generally alone in the 
 schoolroom, where I could hear the tones of the organ and of 
 the human voices from the church close by. Among the 
 many books around me, I had selected a few in which I read 
 on these occasions — mostly old devotional works. I cannot 
 describe to you what my feelings were; how inexpressibly 
 happy, and yet how sad, and how much those hours of quiet 
 devotion elevated my being, and inspired me with an ear- 
 nestness that followed me through the bustle of the whole 
 ensuing week. Now I feel what those hours were to me ; they 
 appear to have been the preparation for my present life. At 
 present, I often go to church with Ehrenfried on the Sunday, 
 and afterwards Ave talk over the sermon, and I tell him what 
 touched me most, and he tells me in his turn with which parts 
 he was satisfied, and with which not — and this is like a 
 second service to us 
 
 We are never happier than when we are quite alone 
 together, and yet there are few days that we find it possible to 
 be so; but then we have so much to chat about, and to read 
 and to write, that it always seems to us that the day has taken 
 wings to itself, and we long for an hour to devote to our 
 absent friends. It seems so strange that time should slip away 
 thus — for, after all, what have I to do ? 
 
 I will describe to you our life as well as I can. It is our 
 intention to rise at five in the morning, but as yet it has very 
 rarely been carried out. When we have got lights, and have 
 dressed, we go into the parlour, where we find the fire burning 
 in the stove, and the breakfast table ready laid. Ehrenfried 
 then reads aloud a chapter in the Bible, or some other serious 
 book — at present we are reading Plato. Your Discourses on 
 Religion we have finished, and also a delightful book, " Die 
 Herzenscrgiessungen eines hunstlicbenden Klosterbruders" by 
 Tieck and Wackenroder. You may imagine how I value 
 these hours, and how my mind communes with yours during 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 13 
 
 the reading. You will also, I am sure, feel gratified at the 
 thought that we have chosen your writings for our edification 
 and refreshment, and that they do us so much good. The 
 early morning is in itself so delightful, everything without so 
 dark and tranquil, but the mind of man so revived and wide 
 awake. When it is daylight I begin my little household 
 business. You ask me how I feel as head of a family, and 
 how I get on in my vocation ? The feeling of being the house- 
 2t'ife, who takes care of the whole household, and who may 
 arrange everything according to her own will and pleasure, is, 
 I think, always precious to a woman, and I also value it very 
 much, and am proud of the dignity. But the special house- 
 hold occupations do not afford me particular pleasure, though 
 they are by no means irksome to me. 
 
 [ccxxxn.] 26^ November. 
 
 . . . How I value your letter, how I feel and prize 
 your love ; were I only not so often troubled with the thought 
 that I ought to have made more progress since all the happiness 
 and good fortune that has fallen to my lot, and that you must 
 believe that I am growing faster in good than is really the case. 
 How often I long for your presence, that you might participate 
 in our quiet life, and witness my great and unmerited happi- 
 ness! Oh, dear Schleier, great as it is, how shall I ever 
 become deserving of it ! Thank God, and love Him witli my 
 whole heart and my whole soul, — that I can and will. 
 
 Schleiermacher to E. and Tl. von Willich. 
 
 [ccxxxm.] Gth Januari/, 1805. 
 
 It is kind of you, dear daughter, to have introduced 
 me, by your letter, to your home life, for some time may still 
 elapse before I am able to become an eye-witness of it. That 
 time passes quicker than Ave calculate, that in general we do 
 not carry out as much as we intend, is a common experience, 
 and must therefore also be that of housewives, and more 
 especially of young ones. Very seldom, and in special cases 
 
14 LITE OF SCHLEIEKMACIIEE. 
 
 only,' have I ever succeeded in carrying out my intentions to 
 the full, or in exceeding them, and since I have been in Halle, 
 I believe it has not once happened to me. 
 
 Plato is not good morning reading. Very few parts are 
 in their entirety comprehensible or agreeable to women. 
 Ehrenfried ought first to peruse the volume alone, and then 
 to read aloud to you, with the necessary explanations, such 
 passages as he thinks would be likely to please you. On your 
 side, dear Ehrenfried, I wish you woidd in reading mark such 
 passages as seem to you difficult to understand or incorrect, or 
 in any other way defective. Your remarks would be very 
 welcome to me, as I contemplate bringing out, in a couple of 
 years, an improved edition of this, my literary firstling. 
 
 Farewell, dear friends ; continue to love me. 
 
 [ccxxxiv.] No date. 
 
 . I am quite surprised that I should have let 
 so long a time pass without indulging in a little chat with 
 you. It is true, that a new friend, and one who can only 
 remain a short time with you, is a very time-consuming 
 luxury, and of such you will find an account in my letter to 
 our Lotte. It is another acquisition, for which I am chiefly 
 indebted to the Monologues. How often already have I not 
 had reason to thank the happy instinct which induced me to 
 write that exposition, and the blessing goes on increasing ! 
 However, I am also beginning to taste some of its bitters, but 
 I will bear them patiently. The little book has, I do not 
 know how, got into the hands of the students here, and this 
 causes me great annoyance ; for I know they will connect it 
 with that empty word — philosophy, and vapid mysticism, 
 which begins to be the fashion with the cleverest heads 
 among them, and which I am endeavouring to counteract, 
 but with little success. 
 
 I was half and half hoping to get letters from you to-day, 
 but the hope has tailed, and also that of receiving a few lines 
 full of the renewed maternal joy of our excellent Lotte. Do 
 not let me wait long. You must not keep a debtor and 
 
AS PEOFESSOK AT HALLE. 15 
 
 creditor account with me ; hut, taking into consideration what 
 a laborious and outwardly unsettled life I lead, you must 
 write to me as often as your hearts prompt you to do so. I 
 am very often with you in spirit, as you cannot but know, you 
 dear ones, who have been the first to make life of value to me 
 again. 
 
 Farewell, and let me have a happy hour soon, and write me 
 much joyful news after all these storms. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [ccxxxv.] Halle, 1st March, 1805. 
 
 . . . How willingly woiüd I not be with you to 
 witness your glorious life ! Kind, dear sold ! No father can 
 think oftener, and with warmer, and more heartfelt affection of 
 his dearest daughter, than I think of you ; nor in greater 
 measure draw renewed youth from participation in her 
 sweetest happiness. 
 
 Well, by the time the ensuing year is as far advanced as the 
 present, I hope to be able to determine when I can pay you my 
 visit. Oh, God grant that it may not be alone, but with the 
 excellent Eleanore ! What exquisite joy you and our admirable 
 Charlotte have caused me by bestowing upon this beloved 
 woman the deep and tender affection, which has suddenly been 
 kindled in your hearts, and by the bewitching tones of sisterly 
 friendship in which you address her ! How rich am I not 
 through you all, you dear people, and how I delight in the 
 thought of bestowing all these riches on Eleanore, and of 
 introducing her into this sunshiny heaven of friendship and 
 love ! I alone might have been too little for her ; but with 
 this help I may hope to heal all her wounds, and to crown 
 her liie with unfading flowers. 
 
 o 
 
 [ccxxxvi.] 12th. 
 
 Within the last feAV days I have once more had an 
 opportunity of preaching. I quite long for the time to come 
 when I shall be able again to give utterance to the most sacred 
 
16 LIFE OF SCIILEIERJIACHER. 
 
 truths from my own pulpit, and I think, when I shall have 
 Eleanore here, a new and beautiful spirit will pervade my 
 sermons, and they will all he what, hitherto, only the best 
 have been. I wonder if Ehrenfried does not feel the same 
 when he is working at your side ? It cannot be otherwise, 
 for everything grows brighter in the presence of love. 
 
 I bid you adieu, sweet daughter, with a look of sincere 
 satisfaction into your dear, clear eyes. You and Ehrenfried 
 know that my spirit dwells with you. 
 
 Schleiermaclier to E. von WillicJu 
 
 [ccxxxvu.] No date. 
 
 About a week ago, I preached here for the first time, 
 but only for another, not from my own pulpit, the prospects 
 of doing which are still far distant. However, on this occa- 
 sion a great pleasure came to me through Steffens, who had 
 accidentally been informed of my preaching, and came to 
 church to hear me ; and afterwards, with the most lively 
 enthusiasm, wished me joy of my noble vocation, which he 
 maintained was the only one in which a man might place 
 himself at once in the centre of his subject, and give full 
 utterance to his thought ; wherefore the religious aspect of 
 things is a necessary correlative of the scientific aspect, which 
 is never more than half completed — just as I have expressed 
 the relation in my ethics. Steffens' profound and inex- 
 haustible mind, joined to his childlike and amiable nature, 
 so susceptible of every generous emotion, gives me new plea- 
 sure every time I spend a few hours with him ; and the more 
 so, as wherever the extreme points of nature and science touch 
 each other, our views always coincide. 
 
 Lecturing becomes day by day more easy to me ; and 
 though I take less time for preparation, I feel that my mode 
 of arrangement and of expression has become more lucid ; and 
 the ethics, as well as my treatment of doctrinal theology, will, 
 I hope, produce good effects. Nevertheless, I dread every 
 new course. This summer I am to begin hermeneutics ; to 
 fetch up the interpretations from the depths of the subject, is 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 17 
 
 no slight undertaking, and one in which I have no practice, 
 and yet in less than two months I shall be obliged to com- 
 mence. But then this will be the only new course of lectures 
 which I shall deliver this summer, for Plato will press very 
 hard upon me. I am glad that you are reading this author 
 in such a sensible way with Jette, and I often think of this 
 while at work. In the third volume, also, she will find many 
 deep and noble views, and many thoughtful and subtile 
 meditations. 
 
 Scldeiermacher to Henrietta Ilerz. 
 
 [ccxxxviu.] Halle, 27th March, 1805. 
 
 A few days ago, I should have liked so much to have 
 written to you and all my dear ones, while still under the 
 inliuence of the enthusiasm awakened in me by an excursion 
 to the Petersberg with Steffens and two of his most intimate 
 friends. On my part it was, in fact, a mad freak to under- 
 take it ; for we only started on the Saturday, and did not 
 return until the Sunday morning, just an hour and a half 
 before I was to enter the pulpit, to deliver a discourse in 
 honour of the memory of the Queen, at which, I had reason 
 to suppose, the greater part of the Academy would be present. 
 But I am grateful to my instincts, which often impel me to 
 commit such mad pranks ; for it is long since I enjoyed so much 
 pleasure. I believe I have not for some time spoken to you 
 about Steffens ; and as I have in the interval learnt to know 
 him more intimately, I can now speak of him very differently. 
 You know, dear friend, that if I am not modest, neither 
 am I presumptuous ; but never have I with such sincerity 
 of heart placed another man as high above myself in every 
 respect as I do this one, whom, were it seemly between man 
 and man, I could almost adore. First of all, his marriage is 
 a true marriage in the highest sense. Outwardly this is not 
 so apparent, but inwardly it is a beautiful truth. With what 
 enthusiasm he speaks of their connection! with what childlike 
 simplicity he cites to his more intimate friends traits illustra- 
 
 VOL. II. C 
 
18 LIFZ OF SCHLEIERMACHEE. 
 
 tive of her dcptli of feeling, of her religiosity, of her ori- 
 ginality ! and always with tears in his eyes ! And then the 
 man is altogether so indescribably attractive — as deep, as 
 spontaneous, and as witty as Friedrich Schlegel at his best. 
 But though he philosophizes with still greater animation than 
 the latter, and even in our, to him, foreign tongue* expresses 
 himseh* with burning eloquence, he is not only always just and 
 entirely free from party spirit, but through and through sanc- 
 tified and gentle in the sense in which I honour and love the 
 quality. Picture to yourself the greatest natural philosojmer 
 of the times turning away, with tears in his eyes, from the 
 sunset, which we witnessed from the mountain ! But he is 
 also a true priest of nature. It was the first time since his 
 marriage, that is to say, for about two years, that he had been 
 separated from his wife for four-and-twenty hours. You 
 mav imagine how full of her he was ; and then our encamp- 
 ment under the old rocks, and the glorious prospect from 
 above, and the delicious freshness of the air, and the freedom 
 from all restraint! The höhest earnestness and the most 
 extravagant mirth alternated so wonderfully, and were 
 blended into a whole so beautiful, as is rarely experienced 
 in life. And in this state we were the whole of Sunday, at 
 dinner at Steffens', in the evening in Giebichstein.f There 
 
 * Steffens was a Norwegian. 
 
 f The reader may find it interesting to compare with this, Steffens' 
 account of the same incident. — Trans. 
 
 '• At the same time (as he was appointed professor) Schleiermacher 
 had been nominated preacher to the University. An old church was 
 arranged as university church; and when the Queen Dowager died, 
 Schleiermacher was called upon to deliver an oration in honour of her 
 memory. It was in the month of March. A lovely spring day lured 
 us to the Petersbergj the day before the one appointed for the oration. 
 We spent the night at the inn, in the village of Ostrow. This night 
 ■will be to me ever memorable. Never did we draw nearer to each 
 other, or look so deeply into each other's hearts. Never did Schleier- 
 macher seem to me intellectually greater, morally purer. Even to 
 this day that night appears to me one of the most remarkable of my 
 life, as if sanctified. In the background lay the delightful day we 
 had enjoyed, the wide-spreading, fertile landscape with its villages, 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 19 
 
 is also between Steffens and myself a wonderful harmony, 
 which is a great source of pleasure to me, and is, as it were, 
 a new guarantee to me of the soundness of my views. "When, 
 
 animated by the first breath of spring. Nature in its infinitude 
 embraced us like a holy temple vault, bore up, penetrated, lent wings 
 to every thought, and germinating spring fecundated our spirits, as 
 it did nature around us. I have a testimony of the impression this 
 night made upon him, in a letter to his dear friend, Mrs. Herz. [The 
 one in the text.] It was the reflection of his own purity that made 
 me appear to him in a glorified light during these truly holy hours. 
 Never did the deep religiosity of his morality strike me more forcibly. 
 The Saviour was with us, as He had promised to be 'when two or 
 three are gathered together in His name.' .... It was past 
 midnight ; and the following forenoon, between nine and ten o'clock, 
 Schleiermucher was to appear in the pulpit. The subject of the 
 oration required to be treated with the utmost delicacy. We awoke 
 after a few hours' sleep, and had still a walk of a mile and a half 
 before us. There had been frost in the night. The preceding warm 
 days had melted the snow, and had made the road almost im- 
 passable. Schleiermachcr, who was an excellent pedestrian, walked 
 briskly in advance along the rough road and cloddy fields. We could 
 hardly keep up with him. We perceived that, in spite of his swift 
 pace, he was sunk in deep meditation, and we did not disturb him. 
 Arrived at home, I had but just time to change niy dress before 
 church. When I appeared there among my colleagues, a general 
 commotion took place. 'Ah!' they exclaimed, 'as you have come, 
 we may also, we presume, expect to see Mr. Schleiermacher! ' His 
 pedestrian tour, immediately previous to his delivering the oration, 
 was known through the town, and the fact of our having spent the 
 night at a tavern had not escaped comment. Early in the morning 
 a message had been sent to his house, and as it was little more than 
 an hour before service was to begin, and the bells had already com- 
 menced ringing, and he had not returned home, people seemed to 
 expect, and some even to hope, that he would not return at all. 
 I remained silent, and let the gentlemen talk. Schleiermacher 
 went up into the pulpit. Every one who has heard him knows 
 how imposing his composure and earnestness were in the pulpit. 
 His discourse gave evidence of the careful artistic arrangement 
 of all the parts, which was his distinguishing characteristic as a 
 preacher. The thoughts were lucid, the subject worthily treated. 
 In spite of the outward calmness, nay, even apparent coldness, of 
 his delivery, he, nevertheless, produced a deep impression, an 1 every 
 one present must have left the church with the conviction of the 
 
 C 2 
 
20 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHErv. 
 
 in our conversation, he gives expression to moral ideas, they 
 are always mine, and as much as I understand of nature and 
 give utterance to on the subject, always coincides with his 
 system. Even those who listen to us are struck by the way 
 in which we work into each other's hands, and in which our 
 views meet in the centre, though we start from opposite sides 
 — a proof that it is entirely and purely the existing inward 
 harmony that leads to the result 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willicli. 
 
 [ccxxxix.] Halle, 6th April, 1805. 
 
 . And noAv let me turn to you, dear, sweet 
 daughter, and dwell upon your perfected happiness, which 
 still, when I think of it, brings tears of joy to my eyes. The 
 highest consummation, the crowning dignity, of your life has 
 come to you, beloved child of my heart ! How shall I ex- 
 press to you my paternal joy ! Every thought of you is a 
 prayer and a blessing in the name of love and holy nature. 
 I forget myself in gazing at your image with the new happi- 
 ness beaming from your eyes, exultingly, proudly, and yet 
 meekly ! And how pure, how holy, and how naturally the 
 first maternal feelings must spring up in your noble heart ! 
 Ah ! how I thank you for being willing to be my daughter; 
 you have thus conferred a happiness upon my life which I 
 can compare with no other ; it is a peculiar, singularly beau- 
 tiful, and lovely blossom added to the glorious wreath which 
 happy destiny has twined for me. And there is nothing 
 artificial in this bond between us, but I am as really and 
 truly your father, as your natural parent could possibly have 
 been ! 
 
 nothingness of all earthly rank, even the highest, in comparison with 
 the divine destiny of man. My colleagues could not but express 
 approbation, nay, even admiration, of the discourse. The idea that he 
 who had delivered extemporaneously, and with perfect self-confidence» 
 so well-digested, artistically arranged, and lucid a discourse, could 
 have spent the preceding hours in frivolous and dissipated frolic, 
 must have appeared to all as perfectly absurd, and I believe that the 
 rumour produced no lasting effect." 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 21 
 
 Yes, you will be a happy mother in every respect. I pro- 
 phesy it and stake my prophetic spirit on the issue 
 
 In a true marriage like yours, with minds ingenuous and free 
 from care, and hearts pure and loving, education is an easy 
 matter. It starts with the confiding trust that good must 
 beget good ; it aims at nothing more than a gentle stimula- 
 tion of the noble germ, which can hardly fail to be present, 
 and desires not unnecessarily to interfere and to constrain in 
 every particular. Oh, dear Jette, we will frequently talk of 
 this during the present happy time, and I feel certain that we 
 shall always agree, and that our imaginings on this noble 
 subject will also meet and embrace each other like parent and 
 child. 
 
 And now,* for a bit of news. On Wednesday next I con- 
 template going to Barby, to visit the Herrnhut school, where 
 I spent three of the best years of my youth, during which 
 my love of knowledge and my religious feelings first developed 
 themselves. At that time the school was located in a dif- 
 ferent place, which I also intend to visit on my return from 
 Silesia, and Barby was then the seat of the Herrnhut Uni- 
 versity, to which I subsequently resorted, and at which my 
 inner life and thoughts grew, until they burst asunder the 
 fetters of the dead letter, and eventually drove me out of the 
 congregation into the world. At that place I shall spend 
 the holidays ; and, if possible, I will partake of the holy 
 communion with the congregation on Maundy Thursday, 
 and remain there long enough to share in the glorious reli- 
 gious services of the brotherhood on Good Friday and Easter 
 Sunday. You may imagine what feelings and memories will 
 throng in upon me on those occasions. They will be delight- 
 ful days to me, I hope ! 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [ccxl.] Halle, 5th May, 1805. 
 
 Poor friend, how long you are made to drink of the 
 bitter cup of sorrow, and how often you have been forced 
 to put it anew to your lips, after you thought it already 
 
22 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACPIER. 
 
 drained!* In such cases, alas ! your absent friend can afford 
 no help and little consolation. He can do no more than 
 share in your anxieties and suffer with you, and when it 
 comes to the worst, feel the bitterest sorrow of all, at a time 
 when he may hope that you have already got over the first 
 shock. May the hope which, after such long anxiety has 
 come at length to cheer your birthday, prove lasting and in- 
 creasing ! and may I soon be apprised of it ! After so many 
 relapses, I cannot help feeling very anxious. It often seems 
 to me, that I ought to remind yoii how you had at one 
 time yielded up the little angel into the hands of his heavenly 
 Father, and how, even after his first recovery, you used to feel 
 as if he were only come back for a time to comfort you, and 
 would soon be called away again. Hard, indeed, it would 
 be were you not to keep him after so much suffering — very 
 hard ! But I confidently hope that my Charlotte's self- 
 control and pious resignation will not fail, should Heaven 
 determine otherwise in regard to the sweet child. I am only 
 anxious that you should not feed yourself too much upon 
 hope, so that should the dreaded blow come, its unexpected- 
 ness may not prove too overwhelming. And are you sure 
 that you do not neglect the necessary care of yourself? A 
 suffering child is, at the time, an all-absorbing object to a 
 mother, and I fear, therefore, that you may not often enough 
 recall to mind that you are the mother of the other children 
 also, and that as such you must spare yourself and take care 
 of yourself. 
 
 I did not knoAV, dear friend, that your birthday fell on 
 Easter Monday, yet I thought much of you that day during 
 my solitary journey ; for the Easter festival, I must tell you, 
 I spent with the Herrnhuters in Barby. Delightful, sanctified 
 days they were to me, full of wonderful memories and many 
 enjoyments of the present. Formerly the seminary or uni- 
 versity of this congregation was in Barby, and hence I went 
 forth from the community to follow my own path, and came 
 here to Halle, it may now be about eighteen years ago. At 
 * One of her children -was again dangerously ill. 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 23 
 
 present the brotherhood's educational institution for boys, 
 which was formerly in Lusatia, is located in Barby ; to this 
 my father entrusted me four-and-twenty years ago, and while 
 there I became a member of the congregation, impelled by 
 a true inward desire. The locality, therefore, recalled vividly 
 to my mind the opening and the close of my career within 
 the congregation. Even the rector of the institute, from 
 whom I first learnt Greek and Hebrew, and who loved me 
 like a father as long as I was under his care, was still alive ; 
 and, though an old man of seventy -seven, was still active and 
 cheerful, and heartily rejoiced to see me again. Then there 
 was the beautiful service on Good Friday, based altogether 
 on the great idea of the Atonement, and consisting of the 
 reading of the whole history of the Passion, without any 
 sermon, and only interrupted at intervals by appropriate 
 sacred music and a few verses of a hymn, and concluded at 
 the hour of Christ's death with an impressive prayer. 
 
 On the Saturday was the love-feast at the grave of Christ, 
 and on Easter mornins; the celebration of the Kesurrection at 
 sunrise in the churchyard. Verily, dear Charlotte, there is 
 not throughout Christendom, in our day, a form of public 
 worship which expresses more worthily, and awakens more 
 thoroughly the spirit of true Christian piety, than does that 
 of the Herrnhut brotherhood ! And while absorbed in 
 heavenly faith and love, I could not but feel deeply how far 
 behind them w r e are in our church, where the poor sermon 
 is everything, and even this is hampered by meaningless 
 restrictions, while, on the other hand, it is subject to every 
 change in the times, and is rarely animated by a true and 
 living spirit. 
 
 It will soon be my duty to institute divine service here, 
 which is to present a pattern, and to act as a stimulus, to new 
 and far-spread generations of religious teachers; but how 
 wretchedly cramped am I not as to means, and how much 
 I deplore that I cannot transplant hither the best and most 
 attractive elements of what I witnessed at Barby ! I 
 might have had one other gratification while there, had I 
 
24 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 ventured to ask for it. They would not have refused me 
 permission to partake of the Lord's Supper Avith the congre- 
 gation, but I would not ask for what I knew to be contrary 
 to rule. Nowhere is the form of communion so edifying as 
 there. 
 
 On Easter Monday already I accomplished the half of my 
 homeward journey, my old rector having accompanied me a 
 good bit beyond the town. The next morning, while moving 
 rapidly onwards in enjoyment of the most delicious weather, 
 and leaving the bearer of my portmanteau panting and 
 groaning far behind me, delightful memories of the days 
 just past blended with affectionate longing for you all, my 
 excellent friends. "While dwelling on my loneliness in the 
 world, and on my separation from those whom I believe form 
 the truest Christian community which exists in the outward 
 world, I consoled myself with the thought of the secret and 
 scattered Church to which we all belong, and of the common 
 spirit that animates us, and of our piety and our love for one 
 another. Do you not feel, Charlotte, how I then thought of you 
 more especially; you, the purest and most holy among us all. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Scldeiermacher. 
 
 [ccxli.] Kdth May. 
 
 How shall I thank you for all the gladness that you 
 pour into my heart ? As you feel it, none of my friends have 
 felt or participated in my happiness. Ah, how I love you for 
 it, even more tenderly than before ! When I feel blessed and 
 content, I see your eyes fixed on me with fatherly affection. 
 Ah ! dearest, what a happy creature I am ! What a treasure 
 your letter is to me ! It is so unutterably grand and beautiful 
 to feel oneself a mother, to be a mother. God be praised and 
 thanked that I feel it, and that it has so deeply moved me ! It 
 gives me such pleasure to think that you know and understand 
 so well the state of my mind, for I can only imperfectly 
 express it. Good father, my heart clings to you ; you are 
 intimately bound up with my whole happiness, with my every 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 25 
 
 feeling. Yon will also be a second father to my child ; you 
 must love it very much. I shall not stop my entreaties until 
 you promise that you will adopt my child among your children, 
 and that you will place it very near your heart, and I promise 
 in return, that I will not force or over-educate the young soul, 
 but honour the individual nature of the child. What a bliss- 
 ful time the little creature's first period of utter helplessness 
 will be to me ! I will throw off every other care, and be exclu- 
 sively its nurse and handmaid. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [ccxlti.] Halle, 13th June, 1805. 
 
 How were it possible, dear Jette, that, with the ex- 
 ception of our Ehrenfried, any one should feel and participate 
 in your happiness as I do ? It is not only in name that I am 
 your father, you dear, dear daughter, but in the very depths 
 of my heart ; how, then, could anything have made a stronger 
 and more solemn impression on me than even this ? Is it not 
 a matter of course that I should love the little creature with a 
 parent's love? I do so already, and feel pleasure at the thought 
 that I may possibly be able to do something for it directly, 
 during those years when it is supposed to be a great art to 
 know how to treat young minds, but when, according to my 
 opinion, the whole secret is truth and love. He who is not 
 saved from evil by these, or reclaimed by them, even should a 
 germ of corruption already have developed itself, for him there 
 is no remedy. You see, dear Jette, how I enter into your 
 maternal life, from its first beginning till the period of its last 
 sorrow, and of its sweetest harvest-time of joy. The prospect 
 of meeting you once more, is the brightest spot on which my 
 eyes at present dwell. Should destiny favour us all, as in so 
 many respects it favours you two, the young mother will soon 
 have an opportunity of presenting her dear babe to me, and 
 she will rejoice at the tenderness with which I shall take it 
 for my own, and at the confidence with which, with prophetic 
 sight, I shall then already greet it as a neAV temple and organ 
 of the higher spirit. Surely, dear friends, if all marriages 
 
26 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 were like yours, all children would be a joy to their parents, 
 and the good spirit that would breathe around them in early 
 infancy, would continue to live in them. When I reflect 
 lipon the matter, it always seems to me that the usual over- 
 straining in regard to education arises solely from a bad con- 
 science, i. c, from the consciousness that the example shown to 
 the children is not such as it ought to be; wherefore else should 
 there be so much restless activity ? I think, dear Httle Jette, 
 that there is no need of your taking the resolution not to over- 
 educate your child. You cannot be otherwise than good, 
 because your goodness has found its anchorage ground in the 
 noblest love, and the richer and more blessed your life 
 becomes, the brighter will your worth shine forth ; and our 
 Ehrenfried is a man of firm character, long and deeply rooted 
 in everything that is just and holy; and your union will be to 
 the end as lovely as from the commencement it has seemed to 
 us all. The more distinctly you feel this, the more the 
 beautiful harmony of your lives is revealed to you in calm 
 happiness, the less you will ever think of over-educating your 
 child, or ever experience the necessity of guarding against 
 this ; and all sentimental exaggeration of the natural feelings, 
 every tendency to devote yourself exclusively to the life and 
 duties of a mother, will remain as foreign to you as all other 
 affectation. Farewell, dear daughter, I must have a little chat 
 with your Ehrenfried, and unfortunately my time is very 
 limited. 
 
 Schleiermacher to E. von Willich. 
 
 [ccxliii.] 
 
 Yes, dear brother, a blessed life lies before you, and 
 will in time unfold itself more beautifully still, and reveal 
 riches which are as yet hidden in the future, and each of its 
 joys, and each of its beauties, I will make my own, as long as 
 I remain among joxl. Everything else [in regard to myself is 
 still shrouded in darkness, but my joy in you, and in all our 
 friends, is a bliss such as perhaps few persons are able to 
 understand. 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 27 
 
 I want to write you a long letter about my various under- 
 takings, but more especially about my lectures, and the interest 
 which I myself, as well as my auditors, take in them. I am 
 teaching hermeneutics, and am endeavouring to raise that which 
 has hitherto been nothing more than a series of disconnected 
 and unsatisfactory observations into the dignity of a science, 
 which shall embrace the whole language as an object of 
 intellectual discernment, and penetrate from without into its 
 innermost depths. As a matter of course, my first attempt has 
 not been successful, as I have had no previous works to serve 
 me as guides, and I am more especially in want of a number 
 of examples and vouchers, for I have never taken notes with a 
 view to this object, and cannot indeed make any such collec- 
 tion with a salutary result, until I shall have before me the 
 whole system, which is only gradually developing itself as my 
 lectures progress. In future, however, the collecting of such 
 notes shall always be a secondary object with me when reading, 
 and as I contemplate delivering a course of exegetical lectures 
 next winter, and shall continue these during a year and a 
 half, I hope that by the time I am to repeat the present course, 
 I shall have been able to collect sufficient materials. You see 
 I am working myself deeper and deeper into my vocation, and 
 with real zest. But for this very reason, I shall most likely 
 do nothing else, except continue Plato ; and when, as is often 
 the case, the conviction forces itself upon me, that I shall 
 hardly survive the completion of this work, I feel quite grieved 
 that so many things that I have been planning will have to be 
 left undone. 
 
 I wish that it would suit your plan of reading, soon to 
 begin my sermons ; the new edition, which is required, will 
 give me an opportunity of introducing emendations, and I 
 would be much pleased if you would mark such passages as 
 may seem to you obscure, or ill-arranged, or otherwise un- 
 satisfactory. And when leading them to Jette, I wish you 
 would make her speak to you about them as she does about 
 your own, and let me hear what she says also. 
 
28 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 Schleier macher to Charlotte von P . 
 
 [ccxliv.] Halle, 15th July, 1805. 
 
 . A recent occurrence which has taken 
 place here has kept me painfully occupied for some time. A 
 young man from Berlin, of whom I was very fond, came 
 hither with his children and his wife, who had been educated 
 here, and whom he had learnt to know and to love here, to 
 pay a visit to her adoptive parents and to the friends of her 
 girlhood, and while here she died. In him I saw grief in a 
 beautiful and holy form ; and I knew nothing more con- 
 solatory to say to him, than that in seeing him in his sorrow, 
 I could not but wish that I were in a position to lose what he 
 thus felt the loss of. It must be a far heavier trial for a man 
 to lose the wife of his heart, than for a mother to lose a child. 
 A child is, after all, but an offshoot from the living plant ; 
 but a wife is the crown, the innermost heart, whence buds 
 forth into life everything that blooms, and ripens, and shelters. 
 With her everything is gone ; and all that follows can only be 
 remembrance, a shadow of life. And yet I wish daily, with a 
 heavy heart, that our friend may be spared the deep sorrow 
 that has so long been impending over her. How much she 
 must have suffered again, poor dear, since her letter in which 
 she expressed her hope that the lovely child was inrproving — 
 a hope which I do not even now venture to entertain ! To 
 yield up a child to the grave and to heaven, to bury all the 
 hopes of the most holy love, must, indeed, cause deep and 
 bitter anguish. 
 
 Yesterday I was at Weissenfels, where I made the acquaint- 
 ance of two brothers of Novalis. The younger seems to have 
 a thoughtful and serene mind, and is certainly the most like 
 the deceased, whom we both value so highly. The elder has 
 already written a good deal in imitation of his brother. I do 
 not know what he may be in reality, but he offends me by a 
 self-sufficient and repellent manner, which can hardly be 
 favourable to a calm observation of men and nature, and of 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 29 
 
 the -workings of the latter within the human mind and with- 
 out it. 
 
 I am glad that you like Novalis so much, and more espe- 
 cially the Fragments. A great deal of what he has written is, 
 indeed, of so strictly scientific a character, that its immediate 
 significance may not be fully comprehended by you, and 
 much of what he has said was, perhaps, not sufficiently 
 mature for publication ; but the spirit that pervades the 
 whole, the childlike simplicity combined with deep insight, 
 is no doubt that which attracts you. So also it is probably 
 those passages in my Discourses that bear upon prevalent 
 opinions and vices which, happily, are unknown to you, that 
 are the least comprehensible to you. Quite recently I have 
 derived a new and very great pleasure from these Discourses, 
 in consequence of my sister Lotte having read them for the 
 first time. I had endeavoured to prevent her doing so, and 
 wished her to wait and read them with me, lest she might 
 otherwise misunderstand and misinterpret many passages. But 
 her pious heart has been so simply and beautifully touched by 
 the devout spirit in the book, that I may say that few things 
 have for a long while afforded me so much satisfaction as the 
 manner in which she has expressed herself in reference to it, 
 and the hope that this gives me that she will in future be 
 able to understand all my works. "When you are reading 
 this, dear friend, I shall probably be on the way to my sister. 
 Although I shall be back in five weeks, I feel as if I ought to 
 take regular leave of all my dear ones. I have still much 
 upon my heart to say to you especially, but I must reserve it 
 for another time. Think of me sometimes, and fancy me 
 rejoicing in the sublime majesty of my native mountains, and 
 with foolhardy boldness shunning no danger that promises 
 the enjoyment of a beautiful prospect ; and then, again, 
 picture to yourself the happy, quiet days with my Lotte in 
 Gnadenfrei. In the meanwhile, farewell, dear friend, and if 
 you can, prepare for me the pleasure of finding a few affec- 
 tionate words from you on my return. 
 
30 LIFE OF SCHLEIEE1IACHEK. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henrietta Herz. 
 
 [ccxlv.] Halle, 27th July, 1805. 
 
 . For what I did during my journey you 
 must not upbraid me, dear Jette. It was not possible for me 
 to do otherwise. It came over me so strong in the moun- 
 tains that I could not resist, but felt impelled to proceed 
 upwards ; and I am sure I was better able to bear the fatigue 
 while in a state of great physical excitement, than if I had 
 proceeded leisurely downwards, had left Konopak in the lurch, 
 and had abandoned my plan, thereby causing my sister and 
 brother mortal anxiety, and rushing into more certain de- 
 struction, by getting iced through in a lumbering vehicle^ 
 while giving myself up to deadly passivity. Besides, dear 
 Jette, anything that we undertake after mature deliberation — 
 and the doctor himself advised the journey, though aware of 
 my state of health — ought to be considered an obligation in- 
 curred ; and in this case I could do nothing less than carry out 
 mine calmly, bearing you all in my thoughts the while. And I 
 conscientiously took every precaution in regard to my health 
 that circumstances Avould admit of. All the pictures which 
 you present to my imagination passed a thousand times before 
 my mind, and, nevertheless, I acted as you have been in- 
 formed. Must I, then, not have a good conscience ? . . . 
 But it will come to this at last, if not immediately, and 
 though I may not know Iioav. All of you, whom I love best, 
 and even my dear Lotte, whom I feared to lose so soon, will 
 survive me, and I feel with you the deprivation and the grief 
 you will experience. But, dear Jette, let us in the mean- 
 while cling to each other, and live together healthily and 
 joyfully. Sometimes, when I look upon myself as the centre 
 of the loveable circle that surrounds me, I feel what you must 
 all feel in like manner, that it is not my personality that 
 forms this centre, but the spirit that dwells alike in us all. 
 Let us rejoice in this, and ever become more clearly conscious 
 of it ; to you my loss will then be no more than the loss of 
 an organ is to the body ; it is always missed, because the 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 31 
 
 same life that animates the whole animated it ; but the loss 
 does not destroy life itself. You know how sacred I hold the 
 beautiful aggregate, and therefore, also, myself as part of it ; 
 and you may rest assured that I shall not render myself 
 guilty of wilfully destroying it. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [ccxlvi.] Halle, August 4th, 1805. 
 
 Had you satisfied your longing to commune with your 
 father, dear child, and sent forth your sweet loving words, I 
 should have had the great pleasure of finding them here to 
 greet me on my return; as it happened, I was back in Halle 
 several days before your letters were even written, and I was 
 just on the point of knocking at your door and asking for your 
 welcome back, when it came without being asked for ; and 
 you cannot but know, dear daughter, what heartfelt joy it has 
 occasioned me. Yes, verily, the affection we bear to each 
 other is a great treasure, to me as well as to you. Through 
 you I have learnt to know in rich measure that sweet tie 
 which I had long accustomed myself to think would never 
 in the course of nature bind me to another being, and your 
 loveable childlikeness will never vanish, as it does in the case 
 of so many women ; but you will ever remain the child of my 
 heart ; and the joy and the blessing of this relationship will 
 ever remain to us. 
 
 . About my journey, I shall by degrees bring 
 out one thing and another ; in the meanwhile, I can only give 
 you a brief sketch of the whole ; and in so doing, I must, in 
 order to touch upon the best, begin with the worst, and tell 
 you that during our pedestrian tour through the mountains, 
 we were by no means favoured by the weather, and were most 
 shabbily treated just when we were upon the highest summits. 
 In addition to this, our longest and most interesting day's 
 journey I went through under intense suffering from cramps 
 in the stomach ; yet I did not give in, or allow the state of 
 my health to cause us one hour's delay, nor did the diffi- 
 culties and sufferings in any way impair my enjoyment ; and 
 
32 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 now they seem as nothing compared with the glorious and 
 lasting impression which the sight of nature in its sublimity 
 has made upon me. After this came other pleasures: making 
 acquaintance with my brother's humble home, but pleasing 
 and happy domestic life, with a kind, loving, cheerful wife, 
 full of mental energy ; my introduction to her and to my half- 
 sister, who is now here with me ; the improved health not 
 only of the latter, but also of my dear Lotte, whom I found 
 together with her in Schmiedeberg, and who was far better 
 and more cheerful than I ventured to expect ; and the ease 
 with which my unknown relatives accustomed themselves to 
 me, and learnt to love me ; then my stay with Lotte in Gna- 
 denfrei, which was, however, very short ; and, lastly, my having 
 now in my younger sister a friendly heart always near me, and 
 my being thus relieved from total solitude ; all this has made 
 me very, very happy, and whenever I have felt most so, I have 
 wished that all my dear ones could be with me, and you, dear 
 friends, in particular, have been in my thoughts. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermaclier. 
 
 [ccxlvii.] Ath August, 1805. 
 
 I am looking forward with much pleasure to the letter 
 that will announce to lis your return to Halle ; how I wish it 
 would come soon ! I have lived much with you in thought of 
 late; my heart has often spoken to you, and has felt your 
 loving response ; and why I did not afford myself the further 
 pleasure of Avriting what I felt and thought, I cannot tell. A 
 great many things have been passing through my mind latterly ; 
 I feel that my intellect is expanding and is being enriched ; it 
 seems to me that I have learnt to understand the world better 
 — the visible and the invisible world — and their mutual rela- 
 tions. Thoughts and feelings come suddenly upon me, which 
 .are not indeed quite new to me, but which I seem to have 
 made more my own. It is one of my greatest delights to 
 exchange thoughts with my Ehrenfried upon matters sacred 
 and deep, and yet near to us; he understands me though I 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 33 
 
 cannot fully express what I mean, and he brings light into 
 my confused ideas. Often I long for you, want to write to 
 you, but it seems such a poor means of communication com- 
 pared with actual presence, when the word goes from heart to 
 heart ; and what I want to speak to you about is not suffi- 
 ciently matured to be written. If you were with us, if I 
 beheld your dear face, that inspires so much confidence — oh, 
 my dear father, we must meet soon again ! . . . . How 
 delightfully I picture everything to myself! Sometimes I feel 
 quite alarmed at the thought that after all it may not happen 
 as I expect ; but this feeling is only transitory. I know that 
 the best, the eternal, will ever be with me in life, such as I 
 picture it to myself; and as regards the things of this world, I 
 shall ever gain more and more tranquillity. How merciful has 
 God been to us hitherto in this respect also ! our life is not 
 
 disturbed by one discordant tone Next spring 
 
 will bring together many who love each other. I wonder if 
 you will come with the one who is dearest to you of all ? 
 Shall we be allowed to shed tears of joy with you? Oh, your 
 rich heart needs not the sunshine of happiness to make it 
 throb with life and warmth! your inner life will be full of 
 energy under all circumstances 
 
 My soul often craves for a clear consciousness of the near- 
 ness of God. He bestows upon me blissful moments, in 
 which I feel joy in Him and love to Him, and strength and 
 energy for every duty ; but then, again, I am so often apathetic, 
 and as if inwardly dead. And when I awake from this state, 
 I am very desponding, and feel myself unworthy of yours and 
 Ehrenfried's love and of my happiness. My beloved, oh, 
 how deeply beloved Ehrenfried, always raises me up again; 
 when resting on his bosom, my heart feels light again ; I am 
 able to smile at my sorrows, to look anew healthily into life, 
 and to resume my activity 
 
 I have missed the post, and am glad that I have thus an 
 opportunity of adding a few more words. What I said above 
 about the apathy which sometimes overcomes me was, I am 
 afraid, very obscurely expressed. I must tell you something 
 
 VOL. II. n 
 
34 LIFE OF SCHLEIEEMACHEE. 
 
 more about it, for, perhaps, you are not aware that I am 
 subject to such fits, and I must not let you think me 
 better than I am in reality. Living such a happy life with 
 my Ehrenfried, possessing such rich treasures, ought I not 
 always to be strong and free, and to receive joyously into 
 my soul the many blessings that are offered to me, happy 
 one, in preference to so many others? And yet, I let so 
 many escape without enjoying them. I know that very often 
 it is physical indisposition that robs me of my freedom and 
 causes my waywardness; but I do not feel as if it were 
 physical ; then follows discontent with myself, and I become 
 melancholy and remorseful, until my dear, kind Ehrenfried 
 reconciles me again with myself and exhorts me to have 
 patience with myself. To feel oneself mentally free and 
 healthy in each moment of life must be delightful ! Ah ! 
 when the heart longs for intimate and true communion with 
 the unseen, and the wish is granted, and we feel ourselves 
 in consequence happy and elevated, then the soul overflows 
 with joy, but also with sorrow for the time that has been 
 allowed to go by without any such uplifting of it — at the 
 thought that this glorious life, this life of life, has been 
 so long dead within lis. On these occasions I feel a cer- 
 tainty that a time will come when such a frame of mind 
 shall ever be mine — my feelings are not overwrought, but 
 hushed and tranquil, such as may pervade a whole life. 
 "With many people it is different; they appear to me so 
 excited, so passionate in their higher moods, that I cannot 
 conceive them capable of the most exalted spiritual enjoy- 
 ment, except at rare intervals and during periods of ebul- 
 lition. 
 
 Dear father, I dare say what I have written is very con- 
 fused ; but it is right that it should be so, for many things 
 are still confused to me, and I may speak to you as your 
 child. 
 
 I am full of joy, dear Schleier, for to-morrow, if the weather 
 be good, we are to go to Rügen, to Lotte Käthen. As a 
 wind-up, 1 shall have a good gambol in the fields with the 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 35 
 
 children. From my childhood I have always been fond of 
 harvest time 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henrietta ITcrz. 
 
 [ccxLvm.] 15th August, 1805. 
 
 Have I already told yon that I have also made 
 Goethe's acquaintance ? Immediately after my return I saw 
 him first for an hour, at Wolf's ; the next day he went to 
 Lauchstiidt. The day before yesterday I dined with him and 
 a large party at Wolf's ; yesterday they started together on a 
 little excursion; and after their return he will, I believe, 
 remain a fortnight longer here, during which time I hope I 
 shall see him frequently. The first time we met he was 
 already very friendly to me, but a regular talk we have not 
 yet had together ; for on that occasion Gall was the topic of 
 the day, and at the party there were too many people pre- 
 sent. Steffens has delivered three public lectures against Gall, 
 on which the world will no doubt pass some strange strictures. 
 Do write and tell me if you should hear anything about them 
 in Berlin. Steffens laughs and says that he is sure that my 
 last sermon, which was similar in tendency, will be equally 
 criticized, and give rise to the same vexation of spirit. 
 
 [ccxlix.] Halle, 23rd August, 1805. 
 
 . About Goethe I can tell you no more than 
 I have already said. When IMina AVolf went over to tell him 
 that I was there, he was lying on the bed reading, but said, 
 " Ah, that is a noble friend, I must go to him at once; " and 
 he did come very soon, and treated me as an old acquaintance, 
 and I treated him in like manner ; so fir you get with him 
 very soon. But the subjects I should like the most to discuss 
 with him, I have not yet been able to broach. The first time 
 he was full of Gall and Schiller, and the second time there 
 were too many persons present to allow of my taking exclusive 
 possession of him. But I hope soon to be able to tell you more, 
 provided I have not displeased him. They say he returned 
 
 D 2 
 
36 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 yesterday with "Wolf. All who have known Goethe for- 
 merly agree in saying that he has changed very much to 
 his disadvantage, in the same sense as it may be said of his 
 works and of his opinions on art. But in like manner as 
 his works are still glorious productions, so is he also still 
 one of the noblest and most amiable personages that one can 
 behold. 
 
 [ccl.] 26tk. 
 
 Goethe returned last night with Wolf, and to-day 
 already I have been invited to meet him, and that without 
 any other company, so that now we shall probably have a 
 good deal of conversation, and in my next I shall have more 
 to relate. For the rest, Goethe is not to that extent in favour 
 of Gall as to make our differing estimate of him a barrier 
 between us. You may also conceive that I did not make a 
 direct attack upon Gall from the pulpit, but merely alluded to 
 the evil sentiments that prevail and that are exhibited in indi- 
 vidual matters, and what I said I applied equally to knowledge 
 of men, to action upon men, and to judgment of men. You 
 will, perhaps, perceive from this, that no particular part of the 
 sermon was directed immediately against Gall, but the Avhole 
 bore upon him. However, people interpreted certain expres- 
 sions as being particularly pointed against him, though they 
 were equally applicable to every physiognomist of the old 
 school. Had I time I Avould write down the whole sermon 
 for you. 
 
 [ecu.] No date. 
 
 . . . In regard to Louis Bürne * you are partly 
 in the right and he is partly in the right, and I am not at all 
 
 * Ludwig Börne, then still called Louis Baruch, being destined to 
 follow the medical career, was, on the fervent entreaties of his father, 
 received into the house of Dr. llerz, there to prosecute his studies. 
 After the death of Herz the youth, then only seventeen years of age, 
 conceived so violent a passion for the beautiful widow of bis master, 
 though she was three- and-twenty years his senior, that, finding that 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 37 
 
 wrong. Kindly inclined towards liim I have always been, 
 bnt he is indifferent to me. How is it possible to take a 
 greater interest in a man than he takes in himself? He 
 undertakes nothing, trifles away his time, neglects his studies, 
 ruins himself by laziness, and takes it all very composedly, 
 merely saying that such is, once for all, his nature, and if he 
 were to force himself into anything else, matters woidd not 
 be the least better. How is it possible to produce any effect 
 upon a man who thus reasons away his own power of will ? 
 I do not know whether he will go to destruction ; many cha- 
 racters rescue themselves from this condition; but while 
 he is in it, there can be no question of exercising any influ- 
 ence over him, or taking any interest in him. In addition to 
 this he is affected and false. Thus, for instance, he pretended 
 to me that he was going to Francfort with the greatest reluc- 
 tance, and that he feared that he should suffer from dreadful 
 ennui there ; whereas Mrs. Keil assures me that he was as 
 delighted as a child at the thought of going. That he should 
 complain of being melancholy, I can understand ; but not 
 that you should pity him for it. What reason has a young 
 man, who has everything he wants, to be melancholy ? His 
 melancholy arises out of his idleness, which is enervating 
 him. You may write every word of this to him ; indeed, I 
 shall repeat it to him myself when he comes back. Pitied 
 he is to be if he continue in this way, but helped he cannot 
 1 ie unless he helps himself. 
 
 [cclit.] No date. 
 
 Between Louis Bürne and me, dear Jette, such as we 
 are, no relations could ever have been established. He loves 
 and pets his own idleness and vanity, and he demands of other 
 
 his feelings were not returned, he twice attempted to commit suicide. 
 Henrietta Herz, though reproving with gentle dignity the folly of the 
 youth, continued, nevertheless, ever after to evince a friendly interest 
 in him, and was, therefore, anxious to secure for him the friendship 
 of Schleiermacher. See Fürst, Henriette Herz, Ihr Leben und ihre 
 Erinnerungen. — Traks, 
 
öS LIFE OF SCIILEIEKMACHER. 
 
 people that they shall likewise pet him, and if they do not r 
 he arrogantly overlooks them. The latter he cannot do in 
 regard to me, and the former I cannot do in regard to him ; 
 for idleness and vanity in young people are disgusting and 
 hateful in my eyes. This is, in fact, what has separated us. 
 An interesting person, if you so choose to call him, he may 
 perhaps be, but more than this I think he will never be ; 
 more especially as I have never discovered in him any real 
 decided talent, on which I might base a hope that it would at 
 last gain the mastery, and work a new spirit in him. 
 
 Schleiermacher to E. and H. von Willich. 
 
 [ccliii.] l§th October, 1805. 
 Perhaps you have already heard from Mrs. Herz the 
 dreadful news of the unexpected change that has taken place 
 in Eleanore's feelings. I do not know whether any one can 
 form to themselves an idea of my state ; it is the deepest, 
 most crushing sorrow — the pain will never leave me — the 
 unity of my life is rent asunder ; but whatever can be made of 
 the ruins, I will make of them 
 
 Anxious about you, dear daughter, I was beforehand, but 
 I have been still more so since this dreadful communica- 
 tion ; I felt as if in every direction one tragic event must 
 follow another. Thank God, our friend Herz has just 
 written to inform me of your happy confinement. In the 
 midst of my misfortune I feel this joy deeply, but I cannot, as 
 yet, find words to express it. Your lovely image, with the 
 sweet babe, will often stand before me and comfort me. 
 Greetings to all — writing is like death to me ; I cannot 
 continue. 
 
 [ccliv.] 28th October. 
 
 A couple of hours after I had despatched my letter to 
 you, I received yours, dearest friend, with the first glad tidings 
 from yourself. Your second also came, unfortunately, too 
 late ; I did not receive it until the 25th, and could not, there- 
 fore, formally present myself among you on the solemn day. 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 
 
 39 
 
 Nevertheless I was surely with you, for I am much with you 
 every day. My tenderest, fatherly love I bestow upon the little 
 being! May this love be numbered among the blessings that 
 meet°it on all sides on its entrance into life ; when I shall see 
 it, and trace your united features in its face, and bless it with 
 tears of joy, God only knows ! I shall not fear to appear before 
 you. I do not think that my looks will sadden you too much, and 
 I stand greatly in need of seeing all those whom I love; but I 
 do not know how I shall manage it in these sad times, that 
 weigh so heavily on all, and with the pressure of my occupa- 
 tions which, if I would at all keep myself erect, I must lean on for 
 support, holding them sacred and attending to them diligently. 
 Only let me soon have a confirmation of the good news, that 
 you will not be obliged to leave Jette and the child to follow 
 the army. May you be allowed to enjoy your happiness 
 
 undisturbed ! 
 
 Within the last week the lectures have recommenced. 
 According to my own judgment, I am delivering those on 
 ethics in a freer and more lucid manner than formerly, and my 
 audience is pretty numerous. The course of Dogmatics, how- 
 ever, is only attended by a very small number of auditors, but 
 these are very receptive, and I hope to say and to effect much 
 good ; and when I repeat the course, greater numbers will be 
 sure to come. I am also delivering publicly, to an audience 
 of about a hundred persons, a course of exegetical lectures on 
 the Epistle to the Galatians. If but half the number remain 
 to the last, I shall be well pleased. It is most fortunate that 
 these lectures give me so much to do, that the academical 
 church service is at last to commence, and that I have my 
 Nanni here. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleier macher. 
 
 [cclv.] 0ctober ' 
 
 I knew it, beloved father, that even in the midst of 
 
 your grief you would rejoice at my happiness, and would 
 
 think of me, and of the innocent babe. From the moment I 
 
 heard the sorrowful tidings, I longed much for the first words 
 
40 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHEE. 
 
 from yon, though I did not venture to hope that they would 
 give a less painful idea of your state of mind. Dear father, I 
 know not such grief, yet ^1 can well conceive how deep, how 
 dreadful, yours must be. That we, who love you so tenderly, 
 can give you no comfort, is very distressing ! How beautiful 
 it is in you, that your heart is still open to our affection and 
 our joys ! Could you but come to us ! How I feel when I hold 
 my little daughter in my lap, or lay her to my breast, you will 
 not expect me to describe — how could I ? It is such an all- 
 absorbing love, deep, deep in my heart — a longing desire to 
 screen the little creature from every pain, every suffering, and 
 to take all upon myself. Every cry goes through my heart, 
 each look seems to me so touching. One evening, in parti- 
 cular, I felt so strange. I was still somewhat Aveak ; H. B. 
 was playing softly but so sweetly on the piano. I felt as if my 
 whole being was dissolving, and floating towards heaven with 
 the child. It was a very blissful state 
 
 [cclvl] November. 
 
 I cannot allow Ehrenfried's letter to depart without 
 enclosing a few lines. I have had many long and confidential 
 chats with you in thought, but my time has been so much 
 taken up that I have not been able to write. Were it not 
 my babe, that is the chief imjjediment, I would think it hard. 
 I cannot tell you Iioav glad I am that it is a pleasure to you to 
 get letters from me. I love you so tenderly ! Your last words 
 were so kind, but so sad. What a heart is yours ! so much 
 love in the midst of so much sorrow ! Ah, were you but 
 happy ! I feel always as if I must implore you to be so, as if 
 it were in your own poAver. Ah ! do not give yourself up too 
 much to grief; do not renounce joy for your Avhole life. 
 Dearest, I feel as if a good angel must come to you one day, 
 and plant in your heart new joy and the hope of new 
 happiness, not taking aAvay your pains suddenly, but healing 
 them gently. My dear father, sleep sweetly ; I must say 
 good night ; I dare not sit up later, though my heart Avould 
 fain dwell longer in communion with you. 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 41 
 
 Schleiermacher to E. von Willich. 
 
 [cclvii.] 26th November, 1805. 
 
 I am quite dismayed, dear friend, when I think that 
 for very nearly a whole month I have not written to you or 
 Jette. But it has come so naturally, that I am almost tempted 
 to say that it is right. The pain at the bottom of my heart 
 is ever lifting up its voice throughout the day, and I am ever 
 endeavouring to smother it with more work ; but were I to 
 attempt to write, I should be unable to keep it down, and 
 should be upset for the rest of the day. In the evening it will 
 break forth in spite of all ; and, however late and fatigued I 
 may go to my bed, which I dread, I find my grief wide awake ; 
 and, though I extinguish the light, my sorrow will not allow 
 itself to be enveloped in darkness. You see, dear friend, if I 
 would live, I must spare myself as long as I am in this state. 
 "Were I, before going to bed, to sharpen the sting, I should 
 get no sleep at all, and I get little enough as it is; and I 
 should have a still harder struggle in the morning, to obtain 
 sufficient mastery over myself to forget my pain, and to 
 throw mj'self entirely into my work. Yes, could I write to 
 you without thinking of myself, how many letters would 
 you not have received, you, dear friends ? But to do this, I 
 confess, I am still too weak ; however, I trust the time will 
 come. 
 
 Now let me tell you of a delightful hour which I spent yes- 
 terday. I had preached once more, after a long interval, and 
 afterwards Ave dined at Steffens', together with Kcichardt. 
 I had some letters to despatch, and therefore went home after 
 dinner, accompanied by Steffens. As soon as we found our- 
 selves alone, he thanked me so heartily, and with so much 
 emotion for my sermon, which he said had produced a very 
 strengthening effect on himself and his excellent wife, that I 
 was deeply moved, and felt a kind of mournful happiness steal 
 over me. lie next spoke of the clear and truthful character 
 of my mind, which nothing could disturb ; and I then broke 
 
42 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACIIER. 
 
 through my reserve, and told him of my misfortune and 
 my inward desolation. Until then I had seldom seen him 
 alone, and never at an opportune moment for opening my 
 heart to him. It was an elevating hour. Within me the 
 deepest sorrow and the highest joy embraced each other 
 under a transparent veil. Yes, dear brother, I feel distinctly 
 that in myself I am nothing now ; but I am the organ of so 
 much that is beautiful and holy — a focus in which all the 
 joys and all the sorrows of my beloved friends are concen- 
 trated ; and as such I honour myself, and therefore I live. 
 Therefore, also, I must endeavour to prevent the sorrows of 
 my life from spreading over and darkening the double voca- 
 tion that has fallen to my lot. Therefore, also, I wish to tell 
 you a great deal about my labours ; but, after all, what I have 
 to say is simply that they grow and thrive, and afford me 
 much satisfaction. 
 
 [cclviii.] 1st December. 
 
 It is very good of you to give me an account of your 
 professional duties also, and I am glad you feel that in my 
 hearty sympathy with your sweetest joys, I do not forget 
 your office and the gladness that you must experience in 
 seeing that a blessing attends it. The present increase of 
 occupation can hardly be pleasant to you. Such separate 
 acts performed among people with whom you can enter into 
 no closer relations, cannot effect much. But to draw ever 
 nearer to the flock that has been intrusted to one, that I con- 
 sider the prime duty. With the power of so doing, you are 
 especially endowed, and I am sure that even the less cultivated 
 members of your congregation will gradually learn to under- 
 stand you better. As regards myself, I see clearly that no 
 congregation will ever suit me so well as an academical one ; 
 but I shall first have to form it here, and it will never be 
 very numerous. To teach scientific principles from the 
 academical rostrum, and at the same time to place myself 
 in the pulpit within the sphere of an uneducated audience 
 (except it were country people, with whom I believe I coxUd 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 43 
 
 manage it), would be excessively difficult to me. But I have 
 a lively hope that by means of the connection between my 
 sermons and my lectures, I shall be able to bring clearly home 
 to the minds of the students the true relations between specu- 
 lation and piety, and from both places alike, from the pulpit 
 as from the professor's chair, I trust I shall be able to enlighten 
 their minds and to warm their hearts. 
 
 As yet, however, it is, alas, but a hope ; for my preaching 
 to the university has not commenced. Through my lectures 
 on doctrinal theology, my views in regard to separate points 
 of Christianity are developing themselves more clearly, but I am 
 persuaded that when, in a couple of years hence, I shall publish 
 a little handbook on the subject, it will be an offence to the 
 Jews, and foolishness to the Greeks. My short exegetical 
 course has been of great use to me in regard to the philology 
 of the New Testament ; and as it continues to be numerously 
 attended, I may hope when I begin a regidar course, next 
 term, that I shall not lack hearers. But what trouble these 
 two courses do <rive me : and it is but too true that I now 
 require two hours to do that which formerly I could do in 
 half an hour. The night is far advanced, and I must con- 
 clude. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [ccxix.] December 2nd, 1805. 
 
 Dear Jette, if you only knew what a comfort you are 
 to me, and what a soothing image of you is conjured up 
 before me by- each word expressive of your joy as a mother, 
 and of your sympathy as a daughter ! I see you before me 
 in all your tenderness and with your loveliness, enhanced 
 by the presence of the dear babe in your arms. Nay, with 
 such a daughter, and such friends as you all are to me, I 
 cannot succumb even to the greatest of sorrows — for joy 
 will vindicate its rights. The sorrow does not indeed give 
 way to the joy, but both owi-sprcad the entire being ; and in 
 my case I feel distinctly that the joy emanates alone from my 
 
44 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 friends, and from all the beauty and goodness that beam 
 upon me from the world, for in myself I cannot keep it fresh 
 and living ; but I am quite content to live through and in 
 you all. Dear Jette, your words do me so much good, and 
 so also your sweet affection for me. I am so moved that I 
 must cease, but let me embrace you with the tears, in which 
 my sorrow and my joy are streaming forth. Kiss your sweet 
 babe for me, and to your Ehrenfried also give a hearty 
 brotherly embrace. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [cclx.] Halle, 2nd December, 1805. 
 
 A long while already, dear kind Charlotte, I have in 
 my possession your letter, through which your friendly, gentle 
 spirit gazes at me as clearly as out of your sweet eyes ; and 
 also your dear present, which I so often looked forward to 
 with pleasure, and I have not yet said a word of thanks to 
 you. But it is constantly so with me now : I cannot give 
 utterance to my feelings ; they all seem driven back. My 
 grief shrinks, recoils from the sound of its own voice, when 
 I make an attempt to speak it out, and refuses to be ex- 
 pressed except in the faintest tones. Could I but take your 
 hand, dear friend, and press it to my full heart! Ah, I do so 
 even from this distance, and I feel how you strengthen me ! 
 You remind me so sweetly of that in which I can rejoice 
 with you, and indicate to me a sacred place of refuge. Yes, 
 dear friend, I will cling to everything beauteotis that draws 
 me sympathetically towards itself, and working lovingly and 
 diligently, as best I can, I will gradually use up my life. 
 
 In sorrow and in tears the work of your hands, destined 
 for me, was begun and completed. Thank God, that your 
 maternal anxieties have been so happily set at rest, and that 
 you can now press your little darling to your heart with con- 
 fident hope 
 
 "Would you see me, such as I am in daily life ? I would 
 fain conduct myself so that no one should suspect what a 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 45 
 
 shock my life has sustained ; and as far as men are concerned 
 I succeed very well: but with "women it will not do; they 
 have too keen a perception of what passes in the heart. On 
 the very day that I received the painful tidings, a lady friend 
 of mine from Berlin was here. She had been at my house 
 the previous evening, and I had spoken with such joyful con- 
 fidence of my future life. To this friend I first opened my 
 heart the ensuing day, while accompanying her some miles 
 on her way back to Berlin. I afterwards returned home on 
 foot, along the same road that I had trod a fortnight pre- 
 viously — oh, with what different feelings! To my kind 
 sister I never mention the sad event — just because I see her 
 every day ; and, happily, I have not been obliged to commu- 
 nicate it to her, as she learnt it from a friend who received 
 the account as soon as I did. Even with him I rarely touch 
 upon the subject. Steffens, that loveable, glorious man, is 
 the only one here to whom I felt as if I must speak ; besides, 
 his wife, as he told me, had observed that for some time my 
 face had borne traces of deep grief. I labour a great deal, 
 but achieve very little. At the writing-table my work is 
 most irksome to me ; but in the professorial chair and in the 
 pulpit I feel myself quite free : from those holy places, devoted 
 directly to a vocation bearing upon society in general, the 
 sorrow, that touches the individual alone, is excluded — those 
 are true places of refuge. Every word that comes from a 
 friend also refreshes and strengthens me. The Willichs have 
 done a great deal for me ; and you also, dear Charlotte, are to 
 me a supporting angel. 
 
 Henriette von Willlch to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [cclxi.] 2\st Jamutvij, 180G. 
 
 . . . . I should like so much to tell you a great 
 deal about my Henriette, that you may learn to know her 
 before you see her, though it may, perhaps, be difficult. She 
 is just now sleeping sweetly! 1 am sitting close to her cradle 
 writing to you — it is such a delight to be near her ! I have 
 
46 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 just been reading Valerie, a French novel. The many delicate 
 pictures which it contains, and which are so simply drawn, 
 have made a lively impression on me ; and one of them, which 
 pleased me more especially, is constantly recurring to my 
 mind. Yes, dear father, my life is very happy ; ever filled 
 with love and care of my babe, to whom almost all my out- 
 ward activity is devoted. But when she is resting in sweet 
 slumber, then my cares also go to rest, and with my whole 
 free soul, I give myself up to the occupations I like best — to 
 writing, reading, and needlework. But when the little one is 
 awake, I am too restless, too much interrupted — my eyes are 
 always turning towards her ; and my desires, and the sweet 
 fancy that she would be more comfortable still in my arms, 
 
 always take me back to her 
 
 Ah, I must pour out my complaints to you, and tell you 
 how wretched it is, that in connection with the sweet babe, I 
 discover a great tendency to jealousy in my heart. In regard 
 to Ehrenfried, I have never felt that ; he is so entirely mine. 
 In respect to my friends, I have not either experienced much 
 jealousy, because my estimation of myself makes me feel my 
 inferiority to them, and because I am always hoping and en- 
 deavouring to work myself up to a level with them. But in 
 regard to my darling, it is otherwise ; the very thoiight that 
 she might possibly love some one else better than me, or feel 
 more happy with some one else, if it be not my Ehrenfried, 
 actually makes me feel as if I were suffocating. Alas, this 
 feeling may eventually fill my heart with bitterness ! But, 
 perhaps, it only arises out of my intense longing, in my love 
 for the child, to obtain a sign of its tenderness, of its return of 
 my affection, of its special love for me, while the little inno- 
 cent still looks at us all with the same eyes, and gives no 
 other preference to her doting mother than she gives to any 
 one that cradles her tenderly and carefully in their arms. 
 Perhaps I shall not have this feeling when the babe learns 
 to stretch out her little arms towards me, and to call me by 
 the sweet name of mother 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 47 
 
 ScJdeiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cclxii.] Halle, February, 1806. 
 Pity me a little, dear Jette, because I can never get to 
 write to you all as much as I wish, which would do me more 
 good than you can well conceive. But so it is, no joy departs 
 alone ; each one takes another along with it, and how much 
 more must not this be the case with the Greatest and brightest 
 of all life's joys! The cause of my not writing is really entirely 
 owing to this. On the one hand, I feel that I had better be 
 silent about my grief even to you ; on the other hand, the 
 sense of suffering intrudes into all that I have to think of and 
 to do, and keeps everything back. During the last couple of 
 weeks in particular, I have felt a heartache and a dejection 
 which I cannot describe. Grief must have a peculiar life 
 of its own, that surges and swells, and has its ebb-tide and 
 its flood ; for I know of nothing outward that can have excited 
 it at this moment, more especially 
 
 "Well, then, I will go to you for strength, and be not uneasy 
 lest the reaction should afterwards be too great; for when I 
 return from my visit to you, I shall have to begin my new course 
 of lectures, and shall enter at once into the busy life which 
 entirely absorbs me, and in connection with which I have 
 already met with a success that has had a very beneficial 
 effect upon me. Dear child, let me beg you not to be too 
 much saddened when you see me ; do not let it overcome 
 you ; forget that your father is not happy, in order that the 
 sweet image he has formed to himself of his happy daughter 
 may not be dimmed; and try to think that I shall be much 
 pleased, nay truly happy, while among you all. But, above 
 all things, entreat our friend Ilerz, who really seems to have 
 economical scruples, to come with me; we shall otherwise 
 lose so many delights. I will also once more entreat her to 
 set these aside. 
 
 But how will it be, little Jette ? "Will you also be jealous 
 of me if I enter thoroughly into the life of your little daughter, 
 
48 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 and she is friendly to me, and grows fond of me ? It is a 
 dangerous matter. You know that the love between grand- 
 parents and grandchildren is particularly tender 
 
 Ah ! dear child, I look forward with indescribable joy to seeing 
 both the little Jettes ! Here, I have also a little child, in 
 which I take a great interest, my dear Steffens' little Clara — 
 such is to be her name, for she is not yet christened. 
 
 [cclxiii.] 28th February. 
 
 Unfortunately, my letters were not sent by the last 
 post, and, in consequence, my fatherly greetings and blessing 
 for your birthday will probably not reach you until the day 
 has past. Beloved and happy daughter, in whose contem- 
 plation, in whose affection, I feel so content, whom God has 
 blessed so bountifully — what can I wish for you but that 
 you may retain what you have ? that you will remain what 
 you are, I know, and in this lies the promise that you will 
 also become more than you are, that you will go on steadily 
 developing yourself more independently and more beautifully, 
 and that you will thus also continue to react beneficently on 
 those whom nature has placed around you. Among these I 
 reckon myself ; for just as your little daughter helps to form 
 you, as you must feel, so you contribute to my culture. I 
 thank God that He allowed me to find you, before He took so 
 much away from me, and that you have given yourself to me 
 as a daughter so freely and heartily. The purest and noblest 
 love of my heart pours itself out upon thee, and I feel it, I am 
 to thee all that a father can be to a daughter who is a wile and 
 a mother, in the sense that thou art. Oh ! remain ever my 
 joy and my pride, dear child, for I feel that I live in you and 
 in Ehrenfried, and in your noble imion. I hope soon to see 
 you in spite of all difficulties, but I reckon upon hearing from 
 you once more in the meanwhile. 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 49 
 
 Schleiermacher to E. von Willich. 
 
 [ccLxrv.] No date. 
 
 I should have written to you sooner, dear Ehrenfried, 
 had I not been anxious to await the decision in the matter 
 concerning Bremen, which I cannot, however, even now 
 report to you. I take it for granted that you have heard 
 something about it from our friend Charlotte Käthen. Let 
 me now relate to you how I have regarded it from the 
 beginning. You know that divine service in the university 
 church has not yet commenced, because of the repairs re- 
 quired in the organ. In November last the minister was 
 here, and spoke a great deal about pushing on these, but in 
 December the authorities again converted the hardly finished 
 church into a granary. Towards the end of the year the 
 proposition from Bremen was sent to me. The first pre- 
 liminary inquiries I set aside at once. But they were re- 
 peated urgently from various quarters ; I heard much good 
 about Bremen, about the piety of the inhabitants and their 
 good-nature, and great love and reverence for their pastors ; 
 the life in and for a regular congregation attracted me 
 greatly ; in this place I saw that the prospect of war would 
 destroy for an indefinite period my sphere of action as far as 
 preaching was concerned ; I reflected iq>on the fact that if 
 the university had felt any real interest in the matter, the 
 evil might easily have been remedied, and that my acade- 
 mical activity was also hemmed in and impeded by all kinds 
 of paltry obstacles and petty fault-finding ; I also took into 
 consideration how heavily and slowly everything progresses 
 that I now work at, and finally I took a decided resolution. 
 I wrote to the minister and also to privy-councillor Beyme, 
 that, although I was upon the whole well pleased here, I 
 should decidedly accept the call to Bremen, if guarantees 
 were not given me that the obstacles in the way of the per- 
 formance of divine service for the academy should be speedily 
 obviated, and if I were not at once appointed a member of the 
 faculty of theology. 
 
 VOL. II. E 
 
50 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 From the character of the reply given to this I conceived 
 that I shonld be able to judge whether the authorities were 
 sufficiently in earnest regarding the object held in view in 
 appointing me to think it worth their while to exert them- 
 selves to keep me here. If not, I should be glad to get 
 away, the sooner the better ; whereas, in the contrary case, 
 that is, if everything were as it ought to be, I would never 
 desire any other sphere of influence than my present one. 
 The privy council has now declared itself ready to do every- 
 thing in its power to satisfy my demands, which it acknow- 
 ledges to be just. From the minister and the university 
 authorities I have as yet had no communication, and I am, 
 therefore, still in some measure undecided ; more especially 
 as I am doubly reluctant to give up my professorship, because 
 I still entertain the hope that I may in time regain my 
 former working powers. In short, I desire very much to 
 remain here, but only on condition that my entire sphere 
 of activity be speedily opened to me. Whether I shall be 
 a gainer, from the pecuniary point of view, by remaining 
 here, is a question. I have put forward no claim in regard to 
 money, because it is against my nature to do so ; but it would 
 be nothing more than just if they were to allow me a salary 
 when I enter the faculty, as hitherto I have had none hi my 
 quality of professor. Our meeting again, also, in a certain 
 measure, depends upon this ; but should I eventually go to 
 Bremen, I should not, at all events, be able to leave this 
 until after the close of the lectures, and in that case the few 
 weeks more which the circuit by way of Stralsund and Eugen 
 would take would be of no importance. 
 
 At my lectures I have a good many very regular and atten- 
 tive hearers. I know that some who attend the lectures on 
 ethics are not afraid of devoting three or four hours to the 
 repetition and discussion of a single lecture, and rejoice at 
 finding the subject becoming ever clearer to them. So also 
 among those who attend the lectures on doctrinal theology, 
 there are several who have, to my great satisfaction, ex- 
 pressed themselves to the effect that it is only now that 
 
AS PROFESSOR AT HALLE. 51 
 
 they understand the true significance of Christianity. This 
 is truly encouraging, and the more so as it is a proof to me 
 that I am more lucid than I thought I was. Poor Plato, on 
 the contrary, would fare far better in Bremen. In regard to 
 this, as to all my other literary undertakings, the prospects 
 here are very unfavourable, more especially if I begin exe- 
 gesis also, which I must and will do some day. Altogether, 
 I see before me in the next three years a mass of work 
 which will hardly allow me to think of any other under- 
 taking 
 
 My letters have been so long detained that I am now able 
 to tell you that I have had an answer from the minister, 
 who likewise promises to do all that he can ; and it is almost 
 certain that I shall remain here. 
 
 [cclxv.] Halle, March, 1806. 
 
 . . . . I know not how much I have written to 
 you about the Bremen affair. The very first answer I 
 received from Berlin rendered it probable that my demands 
 would be acceded to, and soon after the matter was settled. 
 But in the meanwhile the people of Bremen proved them- 
 selves so fully in earnest, and showed me from all sides so 
 much confidence and affection, that it was with quite a heavy 
 heart that I wrote to decline their proposal ; and since then 
 they have made me munificent offers of an increase of salary 
 to the amount of several hundred dollars. In Berlin I have 
 preferred no claims in regard to money, as I should never 
 think of changing my sphere of action for the sake of money, 
 and, therefore, the present offer from Bremen does not either 
 in the least tempt me. Nevertheless, I hope that the authorities 
 in Berlin will soon think of making an addition to my salary. 
 . Reimer has also quite unexpectedly proposed a 
 new edition of the Discourses, and also of the Sermons, for 
 the Michaelmas fair. Had it not come so suddenly, I would 
 have requested you and other friends to let me have their re- 
 marks on particular passages. I have just finished revising 
 the first Discourse, and have only altered one passage consider- 
 
 E 2 
 
52 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 ably ; but various little corrections always suggest them- 
 selves, and these are the most disagreeable. Important 
 alterations I should, in every case, hesitate to make, lest 
 the character of the book should be changed. I shall not, 
 either, this time, put my name on the title-page. It seems 
 to me as if the incognito actually belonged to the style of 
 the book. Any one writing under his own name could not 
 possibly speak thus. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Scldeiermacher. 
 
 [cclxvi.] ISth March, 1806. 
 
 Your dear words reached me on the morning of my 
 birthday, my beloved father. Before your letter arrived, my 
 baby had brought me pretty flowers and other presents from 
 
 my dear ones When I realize to myself that 
 
 you are really coming, I am out of myself with joy : how 
 delightful it will be ! I am always thinking of it. But 
 I must speak to you openly on a certain subject. You 
 know how from my heart the confidential " thou " has flown 
 into my pen when writing to you ; and when addressing you 
 in all sincerity of feeling as my father, I cannot speak other- 
 wise. But when you are here, I shall not always be able to 
 address you thus, nor can I always call you father. There- 
 fore, that both ways of addressing you (in the third as well 
 as the second person) may become natural to me, I shall also, 
 in my letters, use the one or the other as it may happen. 
 And you are my friend as well as my father, are you not, 
 dear Schleier ? Pray do not laugh at me, for I should really 
 feel very much embarrassed were I to be guilty of a slip of the 
 tongue in the presence of strangers. I should at once become 
 conscious of the difference between us — you the great author, 
 the celebrated professor, and I the little Pastorinn, as they 
 often call me. 
 
AS TROFESSOR AT HALLE. 53 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henrietta Herz. 
 
 [cclxvit.] lith March, 1806. 
 "What Johannes Müller said about the Christmas Fes- 
 tival* gives me no pleasure : it sounds too much as if he had 
 calculated upon its being repeated to me. A comparison 
 ■with Plato is verily too great an honour for that little book ; 
 that he must reserve until he sees my philosophical dialogues. 
 But Avhat he says about the conversion of history into alle- 
 gory, is a misunderstanding which is very disagreeable to me, 
 but for which, I trust, I am nowise to blame 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [cclxviii.] April, 180G. 
 
 I will not attempt to describe to you how sorry I am, 
 my dear, dear Schleier, to find my glad hope disappointed : 
 we both know what joy Ave felt in the prospect of meeting 
 again, which Ave have now lost. Hoav exultingly I should 
 have laid my babe in your arms ! Hoav full of high signi- 
 ficance and deep emotion Avould the moment have been to me, 
 when I beheld your eyes resting loA'ingly and with a blessing 
 on the little creature ! Ah, I cannot tell you what an intense 
 satisfaction it Avould be to me, should you learn to love my 
 child very much, should it become one of your favourites 
 among children. In affection to you, I am sure it Avill be 
 like me. 
 
 [cclxix.] Poseritz (in Rügen), May, 180G. 
 
 You must share my joy at the spring, my beloved 
 father ! Since yesterday I live entirely in the delightful feel- 
 ing that at last it has come to us with its flowers — that my 
 babe is inhaling its fragrance, and is blossoming forth in it, 
 and that her existence is intimately interwoven Avith it — SAveet 
 spring, and sweet baby. 
 
 * A little book Avritten by Schleiermacher. 
 
54 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 We have been here since yesterday, and to-day the weather 
 is delightful, the air balsamic, and everything is budding 
 and developing itself to the eye. I have been longing very 
 much for bright and genial days, and I should be so glad to 
 spend many such here with my little girl. It seems to me 
 that, like the flowers, she also would bloom more freshly here 
 than shut up within the walls of the town. The beautiful 
 images that surround her cannot pass before her eyes without 
 producing an effect. This morning we put a nosegay in her 
 little hand while she was still asleep; her first look fell 
 lovingly upon the flowers, and when I came in to her again, 
 she was already busily engaged with them. Early in the 
 morning I go into the garden with her, and her eyes rest so 
 seriously and thoughtfully upon every object, that she can 
 hardly find time to play and laugh with me. Dear Schleier, 
 I can think of little else than the child at present. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cclxx.] No date. 
 
 Dear Jette, I know it is a little eternity since any 
 of you heard from me ; but I hope that, since my journey 
 to Berlin, you have had accounts of me from our friend 
 Herz, and that you know at least that I am well. That I 
 have often turned in thought to Stralsund and Rügen, with 
 a heart full of loving yearning towards you all, and particu- 
 larly towards you, dear child, and your wee, Avee Jette, you 
 will believe without my telling you. 
 
 You will perceive, dear little Pastorinn, that I have already 
 again adopted the familiar thou, and shall veiy likely never 
 get the better of the habit when writing to you. If, there- 
 fore, it be not particularly disagreeable to you, let me go 
 on with it. 
 
 The journey to Berlin was but poor compensation for the 
 delight I had promised myself among you all. I was wonder- 
 fully dissipated, and saw a great many people, which was 
 partly occasioned by my having gone thither in company 
 
AS PKOFESSOR AT HALLE. 55 
 
 with my friend Steffens; but I enjoyed very little of the 
 society of my most intimate friends, and did not even show 
 my sister as many of the sights of Berlin as I had desired. 
 I have recently returned from a very different kind of 
 tour, in the Harz Mountains, undertaken with Steffens 
 and some young people, pupils of us both. This will, at 
 least, give you a good standard of measure for my health. 
 In nine days we traversed very nearly fifty miles on foot, 
 wandering through the mountains in all directions, and very 
 frequently along dangerous footpaths ; and I was the briskest 
 of all, ever in advance, above the earth and under it; yet 
 I was able, immediately after our return, to burrow my- 
 self into the midst of a heap of work which is daily accu- 
 mulating. It was a delightful tour. We were very much 
 favoured by the weather, and in addition to the satisfaction of 
 the scientific object we held in view, we enjoyed ourselves 
 gloriously. I dare say there was not another among us 
 through Avhose mind passed so many strange thoughts as 
 through mine. The quiet of such a pedestrian tour — for I 
 never speak much while walking — enables me to give myself 
 up to all the thoughts that move me most; and as on the 
 occasion in question my inward cogitations were constantly in- 
 terrupted by the scenes and company around me, the fermen- 
 tation was never exhausted, but recommenced again at every 
 interval of quiet. Dear child ! how much sorrow, how much 
 joy, how much tender melancholy passed through me then ! 
 How willingly would I not have ended my life through one of 
 the many little dangers that beset our path ! And yet, 
 on the other hand, what love of life I felt, when I became 
 conscious of how I live in you, in all our friends, and in my 
 vocation ! 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [cclxxi.] Halle, 20th June, 1806. 
 
 Is it not very hard, dear Charlotte, that I cannot even 
 by writing compensate myself a little for the disappointed 
 
56 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 hope of spending some time with you ? But I will not begin 
 with complaints. We know, nevertheless, that our lives are 
 connected, and that we are with each other in spirit ; and 
 your letter itself consoles me so sweetly for the privation. 
 For what is it that prevents me from writing, but my working 
 for my young friends and pupils ; and if they are attached to 
 me, and retain a profound impression of what I teach them, 
 can I desire greater happiness, or pay too highly for it? I 
 
 have been deeply moved by what you tell me about K . 
 
 Give him my very kind regards. I remember him quite 
 well, though I never learnt to know him intimately. I could 
 not then, as now — since my sister has been with me — have 
 a certain evening in the week on which to receive the most 
 zealous and best informed of my young hearers. I do not 
 know which party gains most by this arrangement, the young 
 people or myself. To them, perhaps, many an obscure point 
 is cleared up during our unconstrained conversations, and 
 they gain confidence ; but, on my side, I acquire an increased 
 tact for the guidance of my lectures, and learn to know more 
 thoroughly what are the wants, and what are the faculties, 
 of the most superior among my hearers. In this manner, I 
 also gain more courage ; and thus, each year the path which 
 I have to tread widens more and more before me. 
 
 How kind of you to give me such a detailed account of the 
 two days which I should have liked so much to spend among 
 you — the day of the christening and the birthday. You 
 had, indeed, most kind intentions in regard to me. Thank 
 dear Käthen very heartily for so willingly bestowing upon me 
 this privilege, and for taking upon himself to represent me. 
 And the excellent Mrs. Baier, the venerable lady, towards 
 whom I felt as towards a mother almost from the first moment 
 I saw her — with what pious emotion I unite with her, even 
 from hence, in love, faith, and hope for the little creature. 
 Yes, dear friend, I should have reckoned it among the 
 happiest moments of my life, had I been able to present 
 your dear child with love and prayer to God and Christ. 
 But, even as it is, I press it to my heart with love and prayer, 
 
TROUBLES OF WAR. 57 
 
 and rejoice in the thought of how it thrives in shelter of your 
 maternal affection. 
 
 These lines have been retarded a fortnight, and now another 
 letter from you, dear Charlotte, together with others from 
 Stralsund, have arrived. You may see now, by the instance 
 of the Christmas Festival, how quietly I can wait for a 
 pleasure, without spoiling it by precipitancy. I wanted 
 to sec whether my friends would recognize me in the little 
 work, in which there arc various peculiarities, which may 
 make it appear quite unlike any of my other writings. For 
 this reason, I did not myself present it to any one, and let it 
 at first appear here and in Berlin without my name, which 
 accounts for the notices in the newspapers having come so 
 late. My Mend Steffens at once guessed my authorship, 
 and so did a couple of the young men who attend my lectures. 
 In Berlin, I do not know how it would have been, had not 
 Jette been so precipitate. But you, I believed, would at once 
 discover me, because no one could describe your sufferings 
 as I could. That I misled you is no matter, if you only recog- 
 nized yourself such as I see you, and if you be not displeased 
 at beholding some of your traits delineated in that picture. 
 You and your little darling were from the commencement so 
 mixed up with the idea of the whole, that it would have been 
 impossible for me not to introduce you in the narrative. 
 Indeed, my art can do no better than weave together what 
 I have seen revealed in noble soids, and this tale has touched 
 many persons in a peculiar manner. It is, therefore, not a 
 gift that I have offered you, but one which you have bestowed 
 upon me, and which, having confidence in you, I have 
 accepted from you. I have long been anxiously expecting 
 to hear what you thought of it. Have you shown it to the 
 Willichs, and were they pleased with it? 
 
 You ask me how I feel in these warlike times ? Alas, 
 dear friend, I often think of you all with much anxiety, also 
 of your beautiful country. The causes for this anxiety have 
 varied much within the last months. A war between our two 
 kings I no longer expect; but, it is much to be feared, that 
 
58 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 the French, who are now evacuating Southern Germany, will 
 soon attack the Swedes. Dear friend, if in that case your 
 king should resolve to make a determined resistance, brace 
 up your courage, and be ready to sacrifice everything in order 
 to gain everything, and reckon everything that is preserved 
 to you for gain. Eemember that the individual cannot stand, 
 cannot save himself, if that in which each and all are rooted — 
 German freedom and German feeling' — be lost ; and it is these 
 that are threatened. Would you desire to be spared any 
 danger, any suffering, at the cost of the conviction of having 
 delivered over future generations to base servitude, and of 
 having exposed them to be inoculated with the despicable sen- 
 timents of an utterly corrupted people ? Believe me, sooner 
 or later, a great and universal struggle must ensue, the objects 
 of which will be as much our sentiments, our religion, and 
 our mental culture, as our outward liberty and worldly goods 
 — a struggle which must be carried on, not by kings and their 
 hired armies, but by the nations and their kings together — 
 a struggle which will unite sovereign and people by a more 
 beautiful bond than has existed for centuries, and in which 
 eveiy one — every one, without exception — must take the part 
 that the common weal imposes on him. That which seems 
 at present impending over you is, indeed, such a separate 
 matter, and has so little interest for you, that your anxiety 
 for your own special circle may well predominate; but when 
 the great movements draw nigh to you, then the general 
 power of these to awaken courage will also be proved in 
 your case, and you will learn to look even upon the fearful 
 images which your imagination conjures up as something 
 external, and as belonging to the conditions of the move- 
 ment against Avhich you are bound to struggle. The crisis 
 in Germany (and Germany is, after all, the heart of Europe) 
 stands as distinctly before my eyes as the smaller one to 
 which you allude stands before yours. The air around me is 
 thick and sultry, and I hope that the coming storm will 
 precipitate an explosion ; for that it should pass over, I think 
 we can no longer hope. 
 
TROUBLES OF WAK. 59 
 
 How can yon think that yon ever could speak too much 
 to me of your children ? Kiss them all from me, and now 
 farewell. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [cclxxii.] 4th August, 180G. 
 
 It is a pleasure to me in my solitude to have to write 
 to you, dear Schleier. Since yesterday noon, I have been alone 
 with my little daughter. You know whither Ehrenfried has 
 gone ; before the end of the week I must not expect him 
 back. To me it is no hardship to be alone — it is not painful to 
 me as to so many others. Ehrenfried is mine, though absent, 
 and I am already rejoicing at the thought of his return. 
 
 It is very long since I wrote to you, yet you have often 
 been present to me, and I have frequently upbraided myself 
 for not telling you so. I do not know how it has happened. 
 We ought to see each other face to face again. I cannot 
 quite give myself up to joyful anticipations of seeing you 
 next autumn. Ah 1 these are not times of joyfulness — so 
 many dreadful things are happening here. A party of twenty 
 persons have lately been poisoned : one of these, a young 
 Swedish officer, the only joy of his old mother, is already 
 dead ; the rest, almost all of them young people, are past 
 recovery. I feel often so sad at heart when I look at my 
 little Jette, that she should be born at a time when peace 
 and innocence seem departed from the world. I long inde- 
 scribably for the country — the town becomes every day more 
 disagreeable to me; it is so opposed to the inward life which 
 I live with my Ehrenfried and my child, and it is also 
 opposed to the outward life which I most desire to lead. 
 
 Yes, dear Schleier, many of the beautiful thoughts in the 
 Christmas Festival have made an impression on me, and 
 I have endeavoured to appropriate them. How could a 
 mother read it, and not be touched by it ? Of the excellent 
 Ernestine, I form to myself a most vivid conception, and such 
 a child as Sophie I have ever had in mind. You have 
 
60 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 depicted maternal love very truly and very beautifully. I 
 Lave always felt within myself that this feeling is grounded 
 in the divine love, and that it is a longing to behold all that 
 is holy in the child, and a watching for it. Some day, when 
 I shall have an opportunity of speaking to you, I will tell you 
 all that I feel in regard to your book. 
 
 Schleier macher to E. von Willicli. 
 
 [cclxxiii.] \hth September, 1806. 
 
 Dear Ehreniried, I send you herewith not only the 
 Christmas Festival, but also the sermon with which I opened 
 divine service to the Academy. I cannot say that I am very 
 much pleased with the latter. To deliver a discourse on a par- 
 ticular occasion always lias a laming influence on me, and more 
 especially under such conditions as the present. The laming 
 influence is, I think, owing to the fact that one knows that his 
 auditors have not come to listen with unprejudiced minds, but 
 that each one brings with him in his own mind the leading 
 idea of what he expects to hear, and of how the subject 
 ought to be represented. Nevertheless, I have had the dis- 
 course printed, as many persons seemed to wish it. The 
 church was tremendously full, and the seven hundred students 
 or thereabouts, who were present, comported themselves with 
 admirable decorum. Since then the church has not indeed 
 been so crowded, but I have a select congregation of aca- 
 demical youths, by no means insignificant in number, and 
 hitherto it has been the best among them that have come 
 the oftcnest. I am also pretty well pleased with myself; I 
 have a satislactory consciousness of the blessing that attends 
 my discourses, and the delivery of these forms, therefore, no 
 slight addition to my happiness. We have, however, already 
 had one interruption, the church having again been taken, or 
 rather voluntarily ceded by the academy, for a corn maga- 
 zine. I protested with all my might, and with full right I 
 believe (for this step was in open violation of the spirit of 
 the royal command), but in vain. However, the zeal of the 
 
TKOUBLES OF WAE. Gl 
 
 students on the occasion gave me very great satisfaction. 
 Some of them immediately assembled, drew up during the 
 night remonstrances to the Protector and the general in com- 
 mand, and gathered as many as four hundred signatures, 
 though numbers had already left. So much at least has been 
 attained, that another locale has been assigned to us, and that 
 as regards all essentials Ave are able to go on with the services. 
 But now the church also is to have a vacation in con- 
 sequence of a proposal of mine, which has been agreed to, 
 and to-day I have preached for the last time. My dis- 
 course was especially addressed to those who are about to 
 leave the university, for in my sermons I always hold the 
 academy strictly in view, and I had again to-day most 
 touching proofs of the effect produced by them. Upon the 
 whole, dear friend, I have great reason to be thankful for 
 the success I have had as a teacher, and for the joyful pro- 
 spects which arc opened in regard to the next generation of 
 young theologians. My school may, it is true, easily be counted, 
 and it is indeed rather satisfactory to me that the great mass 
 does not crowd around me ; but I can now point out many a 
 glorious mind and respectable talent among my scholars, 
 who embrace the good cause with zeal and affection, and I 
 even know a couple among them who have, through my 
 lectures, been cured of that hostility to Christianity which 
 philologians more especially are apt to entertain ; and what 
 greater joy could I have than this ? 
 
 The Discourses (the second edition) are now ready, and in 
 a few weeks they will probably be in your hands. I am very 
 curious to know what you will think of them as they now 
 are. In my opinion they have gained much in lucidity as a 
 whole, while comparatively little of the brilliancy of the first 
 easting has been lost. Much more than this I have not pro- 
 duced this summer, and in spite of all my business I have 
 been heartily lazy. Next winter I shall be obliged to exert 
 myself far more strenuously. 
 
 Do tell me how matters arc proceeding in your country, 
 what people in general think about the new constitution, and 
 
62 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 what promises the latter holds out. I exult in the war against 
 the tyrant, which I think is now unavoidable, and am delighted 
 with the courageous spirit which prevails generally here among 
 the troops and among the people. A considerable corps 
 (Tarme'e is stationed in our vicinity; the king is expected, and 
 when he arrives, it is hoped a forward movement will be made 
 to fight the French, wherever they be met with. I have often 
 felt a strong desire to speak out upon politics too, if I could 
 but have found leisure. In the pulpit I allude to these 
 matters from time to time, but in a very different Avay from 
 what I hear others do. 
 
 SchleiermacJier to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cclxxtv.] No date. 
 
 Dear little Jette, you ought to have written me a few 
 words in Ehrenfried's letter. In the present times one must 
 seize the opportunities when they offer themselves, and not 
 wait for better ones. Who knows if the post will not be stopped 
 before my letter reaches you. Ah ! we have had a bad and a 
 sad interval, and I fully expect that it will be worse still 
 before the balance can again incline towards the good. Say, 
 dear child, will you keep up your courage, even should the 
 war draw nearer to you ? Oh, yes, I know you enough to 
 feel sure that you will, and need, in fact, no answer ; for the 
 wife and the mother will not be less courageous than I have 
 known the girl to be. Besides, a young mother with a little 
 child, and another in expectation, is even to warriors a sacred 
 object. You see, friend Herz has already betrayed your 
 happy secret to me. Dear child, may the blessing of God 
 attend you ! But, I wotdd fain beg you let us have a boy 
 this time; the coming times will require men — men who have 
 seen the light for the first time during this period of disso- 
 lution; and sons — such as I think yours and Ehrenfried's 
 will be — full of courage, cheerful in spirit, self-possessed, and 
 with holy sentiments graven deep in their hearts, are a costly 
 treasure. Oh, when I look to the future, I am the more 
 
TROUBLES OF WAR. 63 
 
 pained at the thought that in this respect I can do nothing for 
 it, that I have only words to bequeathe to it, because, at this 
 moment, the immediate influence of my mind on the cultiva- 
 tion of youth is suspended, and I lead in fact a perfectly 
 passive and useless life. 
 
 The close view of the war has made a wonderful impres- 
 sion upon us here. We had plenty of terror and suffering, 
 and yet often we could not help jesting. Steffens' wife, with 
 her child in her arms, was in my house, while the French 
 hussars were plundering it ; before they came she was dread- 
 fully terrified, but afterwards she was calm and collected. 
 Upon the whole, the terror that prevailed during the four 
 days, until the army had passed through, gave rise to so 
 many ludicrous incidents that they helped to keep up one's 
 spirit. 
 
 The only tiling I wish is, that if Stralsund should be be- 
 sieged and taken by storm, you may not be within its walls ; 
 for in such a case the first few hours would, no doubt, be full 
 of horror. And yet I could not blame you if you should 
 refuse to leave your husband for any length of time, on 
 account of this uncertain danger. It would pain me beyond 
 all description to see your lovely, peaceful country, which lies 
 so much beyond the limits of all the great world-transactions, 
 become the theatre of such devastation. 
 
 My sister and Steffens' wife behave admirably, and I think 
 few women here have shown as much courage under the 
 same circumstances and with equally dismal prospects before 
 them. It is very strange to live so entirely in the moment, 
 to be so entirely ignorant of what the future is to bring, as 
 we are at present ; and, in fact, it might be an excellent 
 lesson, were we not by the same circumstances deprived of so 
 much that is good and beautiful. Farewell, dear child, and, if 
 you are able, write soon 
 
G4 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIER. 
 
 SchleiermacJicr to George Reimer. 
 
 [cclxxv.] Halle, Ath November, 1806. 
 
 . . . . The pillage was, indeed, bad enough, yet 
 not so bad as one generally fancies. Immediately after the 
 engagement, the imprudence of the people who live below, 
 enabled several hussars to penetrate into the house and up- 
 stairs into our rooms. Steffens and Gass were just with me ; 
 we were all three obliged to give up our watches, and Gass 
 his money ; Steffens was already drained, and in my posses- 
 sion they only found a few dollars ; but all my shirts, with 
 the exception of five, and all the silver spoons, with the 
 •exception of two, they carried off. During the engagement, 
 we were very near getting into danger. Steffens came in the 
 morning to invite lis to come to his house, if we wished to 
 witness a fight. From thence we saw the attack upon the 
 bridge very distinctly ; but when I perceived that the Prus- 
 sian cannon were being dismounted, and that the position was 
 about to be lost, I persuaded Steffens to go home with me, 
 as his house was very much exposed. We hastened as much 
 as possible ; but Hannah and I had not yet reached my 
 street, when we heard shots behind us in the town, and 
 Steffens, who was in the rear with his child in his arms, had 
 very nearly got hemmed in between the crowd of retiring 
 Prussians and pursuing Frenchmen. 
 
 The following days I had a fearful number of soldiers bil- 
 leted upon me, and the proprietors of our house, poor 
 orphans under the guardianship of a couple of old aunts, had 
 nothing in their pockets, so that I felt very much afraid lest 
 the brutality of the people should be roused, and we all spent 
 a very uncomfortable night in Konopak's room. Subsequently 
 we had officers and privates of the guards quartered in the 
 house, and during two nights I was obliged to admit a secre- 
 tary of the staff and two other employes into my large sitting- 
 room, as there was no place for them down-stairs. The 
 officers who had their quarters there frightened the poor 
 
TROUBLES OF WAR. 6J 
 
 people with all kinds of rumours of the town being given up 
 to plunder and to fire, and made us spend a very tragi-comical 
 night. But the preceding evening a storm, almost as bad as 
 this, had in reality broken out — I mean the order for the dis- 
 persion of the students. Allow me to give you an explana- 
 tion of what this means from the economical point of view, 
 in order that you may form a conception of our position. 
 . . . . If peace be soon concluded, it is not at all probable 
 that Halle will remain Prussian. Should it be handed over to 
 Saxony, perhaps the university will be dissolved, or, at all 
 events, there will be an end to my stay in it, as the Saxons 
 are such very strict Lutherans. If the town fall to the share 
 of a French prince, I, for my part, will not abide in it, as 
 long as there is anywhere a Prussian hole to which I can 
 
 retire 
 
 Be not angry with me for troubling you so much about 
 ceconomicis. Unfortunately it is necessary to take these 
 wretched matters into very serious consideration. For the 
 rest, I am working as industriously at Plato as anxiety about 
 public matters as well as my own private concerns will 
 allow. 
 
 [cclxxvi.] Later, but without date. 
 
 Dear friend, let me shake your hand in acknowledg- 
 ment of your hearty sympathy. Do not be too anxious about 
 
 our finances. As yet I do not know whether S will pay 
 
 your draft, and I cannot go to him until to-morrow morn- 
 ing. But if he does, then take no more care about me. If 
 you could do anything for Steffens, it would be very desirable, 
 although at the present moment his creditors cannot press 
 hard upon him. The general demoralization is fearful; on 
 all sides yawning abysses of infamy and cowardice stare you 
 in the face. Only a few, and foremost among these the king 
 and the queen, form glorious exceptions. The old evil has 
 broken out in a frightful manner, the remedy is a desperate 
 one ; but all hope is not yet lost, and I keep my eyes steadily 
 fixed on Prussia, and northern Germany generally 
 
 VOL. II. F 
 
6G LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henrietta Herz. 
 
 [cclxxvii.] Halle, Ath November, 1806. 
 
 Could I but describe to you my state of mind ! My 
 personal position, in as far as it is purely personal, gives me 
 very little concern ; but that I should bave brought my good 
 Nanni hither at this unfortunate period grieves me. As for 
 my ruined activity, which will probably never be restored — 
 the sudden destruction of the school which I was in the 
 act of founding here, and which gave such fair promise — 
 the probable dissolution of the entire university, which was 
 beginning to rise so nobly in character — and added to this 
 the precarious state of our fatherland, in which at the side of 
 so many defects there is so much that is excellent — Dearest, 
 you can hardly conceive how this affects me, and yet how 
 calmly I can at times sit clown to my Plato and to my 
 theological writings, and work to my heart's content, in spite 
 of my constant hankering after the pvdpit and the cathedra. 
 Sometimes, however, I am in a feverish state, and many days 
 axe very unhappy. The thought that it may be my fate for 
 a long time to live only for and by authorship, is very 
 depressing. 
 
 In this place I am sure I should not be able long to endure 
 such a state, and I shall, therefore, be impatient to get away 
 as soon as I find that there is no more hope for the univer- 
 sity. I shall join you first of all; but as without some 
 public vocation I could not either live in Berlin, I must 
 wander farther, to Prussia or to Eugen ; and this is the fairest 
 dream that remains to me in the case in question. Our 
 entire ignorance of the state of affairs since the capture of 
 Potsdam and Berlin is frightful, and quite calculated to 
 damp our courage and to paralyze our last energies. As 
 often in critical moments I knew not what Eleanore was 
 doing, but could only love and hope on; so also now I know 
 not what my country is doing. Will that also be untrue to 
 itself, and pass away from me as she has ? Sometimes I think 
 
TROUBLES OF WAR. 67 
 
 everything may yet go well, may terminate beautifully and 
 gloriously ; but this will require prudence and good luck ; and 
 shall we not fail in both ? Yesterday rumours were rife of a 
 second battle lost, because delivered precipitately and far too 
 soon: I hope they are without foundation. 
 
 Do write me soon how you and other friends have got on. 
 I hope you may not have suffered ha any way, and at all 
 events the scarcity and dearness cannot be as great in Berlin 
 as it is here. We are living as frugally as possible, in fact, 
 more frugally than possible, for my health is suffering very 
 much from the privation of wine, and from the almost exclu- 
 sive vegetable diet, and all my old ailings are returning. 
 Fuel is not to be had : we were burning our last faggot when 
 we obtained hah" a cord gratis from the French commissary, 
 through the influence of Blanc, who is performing important 
 services at present as interpreter ; had it not been for this we 
 
 should have perished Avith cold Nanni does not 
 
 as yet feel quite at home in the new combined housekeeping ; 
 the measure was, however, imperative, for I had only very 
 little money, which I had borrowed, and Steffens had none at 
 all. Had Ave divided we should both have been worse off 
 than now ; for as it is we save fuel and light, and I dare say 
 various other matters in the housekeeping 
 
 [cclxxviii.] Halle, lith November, 180G. 
 
 "We have been rescued from the greatest need, as I 
 have obtained part of my salary, and Steffens has got some 
 money from another quarter ; and there is some hope at present 
 that our entire salaries Avill be paid. We are still keeping 
 house together ; but I do not know how long this Avill last, as 
 the ladies are put to great inconvenience by it. Of our going 
 to Berlin, there can hardly be a thought under the present 
 circumstances, for many things have changed since my last 
 letter. The scarcity is, I hear, cA'en greater there than here, 
 and I should also have less quiet for working. Besides, Avere 
 the hopes entertained by Masson to be realized, I should 
 have the great expense of the double journey on my con- 
 
 F2 " 
 
68 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIER. 
 
 science. The day after to-morrow, thank God, I am once 
 more to preach, for Blanc, who is called upon sometimes to de- 
 liver sermons in German. . . . Alexander is there, where 
 alone there is anything to be done for our prostrate father- 
 land, and whence, perhaps, its salvation may yet come. 
 His young brothers have not yet been in battle ; whether 
 Louis has, I do not know; but, I have not seen the name 
 of his regiment among those engaged. With Wedike, I have 
 often in thought exchanged a smile of satisfaction, on account 
 of the quiet which he still enjoys, he being the only one of 
 our friends who is so well off. .... 
 
 I have again had an invitation to go to Bremen, but indi- 
 rectly. But as long as there is a shade of hope that the 
 university may be maintained on its present footing, I shall 
 not allow myself to contemplate anything else. More reluc- 
 tantly than ever would I now separate from the king, to 
 Avhom I long most heartily to speak a word of comfort and 
 encouragement, in the midst of the misfortunes which have 
 come upon us, certainly by no fault of his. Even the French 
 themselves say that the Berliners are flattering them in the 
 most contemptible manner. I wish that it may not be true, 
 though I dare not hope it. 
 
 Schleiermadier to Gass* 
 
 [cclxxix.] Halle, IGth November, 1805. 
 
 . . . My personal affairs had in the meantime 
 progressed most favourably. Towards the end of September, 
 Eleanore left her husband's house, and no sooner had her 
 brother learnt this, than he invited her to his house, and 
 undertook to carry on the suit for the divorce himself. I 
 saw her a few days later, and found her quite firm and re- 
 solved, and subsequent letters from her husband, and even in- 
 
 * This extract, giving a fuller relation of the final rupture with 
 Eleanore Grunow than is contained in any of the letters in the 
 present collection in the German edition, has been borrowed from 
 Schleiermacher's correspondence with Gass, a preacher of the 
 Reformed Church at Breslau, published in 1S32. — Trans. 
 
TROUBLES OF WAR. 69 
 
 terviews with him, did not make any change herein. Imme- 
 diately after I left, the suit was laid, and her husband consented 
 to the divorce. The Decement had already decreed the disso- 
 lution of the marriage, without raising any difficulties, and the 
 affair was to be brought before the court next session. But the 
 day before this, Eleanore, having been informed that the last 
 decisive measure was at hand, was again seized so violently 
 by her old scruples of conscience, that, after a few hours of 
 severe struggle, she, of her own accord, left her brother's 
 house, and returned to her husband. Immediately after this 
 she sent back to me everything she had received from me, and 
 since then I have not heard from or of her. Unhappy woman! 
 why did she so long deceive herself and me ? Happy am I 
 that I have never in any way attempted to bias her convic- 
 tions in regard to this point. In breaking off all communica- 
 tion and intercourse with me under the circumstances, she has 
 done quite right; it is necessary that it should be so, if she 
 perseveres in her present determination. How hopeless my 
 life is, how utterly annihilated my whole inward being, you 
 can hardly conceive. My labours, the love of my vocation, 
 and my joy in my friends, alone prevent me from falling 
 utterly prostrate ; and that I have my sister with me at 
 present is a happiness for which I cannot be sufficiently 
 grateful 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henrietta Herz. 
 
 [cclxxx.] Halle, 21st November, 180G. 
 
 . . . . Though it is late in the evening, I must 
 have a little. chat with you. What dreadful birthdays have 
 I had two consecutive years ! Shortly before that of last 
 year, I lost everything that I possessed on one side, and 
 now on the other. When the first misfortune came, I 
 clung to my vocation, and in it I found a motive and an object 
 in life; now that this also is destroyed, what shall I cling to? 
 It has not indeed been so irrevocably lost as Eleanore, yet it 
 would be folly to hope confidently in its revival; and if it is 
 not my highest, but only my secondary, wish, that I may find 
 
70 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEß. 
 
 death in struggling for the common cause, this is because of 
 an attachment to old plans and purposes, which, in man}' 
 cases, I must confess, is childish. Yet, perhaps, sooner than 
 I expect, my other wish will be fulfilled; for if fortune does 
 not take a turn, an onslaught will no doubt soon be made 
 against the detested Protestantism, and then it will be my 
 duty above many others to come forward. No one knows 
 what may be his fate in these days! We may still have 
 martyrs, both religious and scientific. 
 
 We are living here in a most feverish state. Every now 
 and then comes a favourable rumour, that holds out a hope 
 from the side of Austria or Russia, and then again we learn 
 that it is unfounded. From our own camp we have no 
 accounts whatsoever : this much only is certain, that as 
 long as the war lasts, there is little likelihood that the uni- 
 versity will resume its activity. Yet my going to Bremen 
 looks to me like an act of treason, which I cannot allow 
 myself to be guilty of; and I do not in the least know what 
 to do, and am living in the hope of an inspiration, when the 
 moment shall arrive that I must take a resolution. Napoleon 
 must have a special hatred to Halle. Whether he conceived 
 it during his stay here, or had it previously, I do not 
 know; but to me the first seems most probable. The new 
 philosophy cannot be the cause of it, for publicly it can 
 hardly be said to have issued from Halle; it is more likely 
 that the spirit of freedom, and the open expression of public 
 opinion, for which Halle has alvwoys been famous, is at the 
 bottom of it. There have also been numerous spies here 
 during several months, who may have betrayed to him the 
 sentiments of the people. It is said now that the depu- 
 tation from Leipzig has increased and strengthened his 
 hatred in a most shameful manner. But one ought not to 
 
 believe in such baseness until it is proved 
 
 May a good genius direct the resolves of our king, and 
 induce him to bear everything rather than to conclude a 
 dishonourable peace ; and to hold fast by Russia, for that 
 is the only way in which we can hope for a favourable 
 
TROUBLES OF WAR. 71 
 
 change in our fate ! I feel rather confident that he will not 
 act otherwise 
 
 To write letters is becoming quite a hard task to me, 
 though I do not know why. Willich may, of course, send 
 his wife to Rügen; but in case Stralsund be besieged, he 
 himself ought not to desert his post. Should Stralsund be 
 captured, then, indeed, Rügen also must be considered as lost. 
 The rod of wrath must fall upon every German land; only 
 on this condition can a strong and happy future bloom forth. 
 Happy they who live to see it ; but those who die, let them 
 die in faith 
 
 Can it be true that all the statues, and all the works of art, 
 and all the pex-sonal property of Friedrich the Great, are being 
 carried off? A thousand greetings to all friends, and more 
 especially to the Dohnas. I am glad that Fritz has distin- 
 guished himself so much. If all had but done the same ! 
 Adieu, dear Jette. 
 
 Schleiermacher to E. von Willich. 
 
 [cclxxxi.] Halle, 1st December, 1806. 
 
 Already, some days ago, dear friend, I received the 
 consolatory news from our friend in Berlin that she had 
 heard from you, and now comes your little note to myself. I 
 congratulate you, my dears, that up to the present moment 
 you have not been immediately engaged in the great conflict 
 and surrounded by the thousand horrors that accompany it. 
 Look upon so much time gained as a great good, and enjoy 
 it cheerfully, but be prepared ; for if the drama is not to end 
 in a shameful submission, and in the inauguration of a bar- 
 barism that will extend its power over many coming gene- 
 rations, you must be drawn into the vortex. I have often 
 thought with delight of going to join you, should my forced 
 inactivity endure for any length of time ; but, even if the pro- 
 spects to which I have alluded were not before you, I should 
 be obliged to give up this plan, because there would be 
 insuperable difficulties in the way of my transplanting myself 
 
72 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 to your place, with all the auxiliary means which I require 
 for my "writings. 
 
 You are aware that Napoleon has driven away our students. 
 The reason for this we are still ignorant of. A few days 
 before the entry of the French, and on receipt of the accounts 
 of new victories, they did, it is true, give a vivat for the king, 
 and a pereat for Napoleon; and it is even said that they 
 repeated the same during his presence here, while the 
 troops in the market-place were crying, " Vive V Empereur ! " 
 a mad proceeding, certainly. A paper was also circulated 
 here, recommending various measures for the benefit of the 
 army, and in which were several hard expressions against 
 the French, and this was signed by the university among 
 others. All this may have worked together to bring about 
 the result. 
 
 I have again received a call to Bremen ; but I have deter- 
 mined to decline it, because I will remain faithful to Halle as 
 long as there is the slightest hope of the maintenance of the 
 university. Should the king be obliged to conclude an un- 
 favourable peace, and should he retain Halle, though his 
 territories were otherwise greatly reduced, there will be num- 
 bers who will prefer leaving to staying, and I will not be 
 among those who set so bad an example. But should the 
 war be protracted, as I hope, I will seek a provisional appoint- 
 ment somewhere else in Prussia, so that I may be at hand 
 immediately when things change. For the influence that an 
 academical teacher may have upon the young generation 
 seems to me more than ever of the highest importance. We 
 must sow seeds, which may not perhaps sprout for a long 
 while, but which will, in consequence, require to be all the 
 more carefully treated and tended. Dear friend, were I to 
 describe to you the utter desolation of my heart when I think 
 of the loss of my pulpit and of my professorial chair, and when 
 it sometimes comes home to me that, after all, my sphere of ac- 
 tivity may never be reconstituted, you woidd hardly be able 
 to understand me. When, however, I look further, and take 
 a more comprehensive view of matters, I become calm again. 
 
TROUBLES OF WAR. 73 
 
 The constitution of Germany had become untenable ; in the 
 Prussian monarchy there was also a great deal that had be- 
 come superannuated and that was merely patched together : 
 this has been destroyed. The manner in which the kernel 
 shall save itself from similar destruction will prove whether it 
 be sound or not. I feel certain that Germany, the kernel of 
 Europe, will stand forth again in a new and beautiful form ; 
 but when this will take place, and whether the country -will 
 not first have to pass through still greater troubles, and to 
 bend for a long time under a heavy yoke, God alone 
 knows. I have no fear, except, sometimes, of a dishonovuable 
 peace, which may save the appearance — but only the appear- 
 ance — of a national existence and freedom. But even in re- 
 gard to this I feel tranquil ; for if the nations submit to it, it 
 will prove that they are not yet ripe for better things ; and 
 the severer visitations, amid which they are to mature, will 
 not fail soon to fall upon them. Thus, dear friend, con- 
 cerning what is personal to me, which is of the least im- 
 portance, and concerning the national cause, which is of 
 the greatest importance, I feel equally calm, however dreary 
 things may look in respect to both ; but the intermediate 
 matters, such as the manner in which each individual may be 
 able to influence the whole, and the way in which the eccle- 
 siastical, the educational, and the scientific institutions may 
 be organized — these fill me with anxiety ; the latter more 
 especially, for Napoleon hates Protestantism as much as he 
 hates speculative philosophy. My predictions in the Dis- 
 courses will not, I think, prove false. When it comes to this, 
 dear friend, let us cling to our posts, and fear nought. I 
 wish that I had a wife and child, that I might be on a level 
 with every other man when the sacrifice is called for. I have 
 preached twice within the last twelve days, and, as you may 
 suppose, on both occasions, on the times and the signs of the 
 times, hut after my own peculiar fashion, and without fear. 
 I wish I could preach offener, but opportunities for doing so 
 rarely occur. In my academical church I only preached four 
 or five times, then came the vacations, and now it is dc- 
 
74 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 stroyed. Of the engagement near Halle, I witnessed the first 
 act, in which the Prussians defended very badly, and soon lost, 
 an excellent position, entirely through the incapacity of their 
 commander. During the second act I was plundered, but 
 
 that was a mere joke 
 
 Should Stralsund be besieged, you will, I suppose, send 
 your wife and child to Rügen. I hope you will hold out 
 better than Magdeburg and Kiistrin. When you are able, do 
 write and tell me where Brinkmann is 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [ccLxxxn.] Halle, 1st December, 180G. 
 
 Deai- friend, what a fearful time lies between the last 
 words that we interchanged and the present moment ! The 
 common misfortunes of our fatherland, accompanied by 
 many humiliating circumstances that I should have thought 
 impossible. I felt almost certain that we should lose the first 
 battle ; and I therefore trembled with rage at seeing that the 
 battle-field had not been chosen at a distance ; but the fearful 
 disorganization which followed, and the universal discourage- 
 ment, with the exception of one glorious example, was more 
 than I could ever have expected. The king alone, in his 
 steadfastness, it is gratifying to behold ; and I trust, now 
 that he has got over the capture of his capital and the sur- 
 render of his fortresses without suing for peace, he will not 
 think of separating his fate from that of the rest of Europe. 
 The times have now come, about which I wrote to you some 
 time ago ; and most Hkely what has as yet taken place is only 
 the beginning. The conflict must become wider and deeper, 
 if new life and prosperity are to rise out of the universal 
 desolation. To this sweet hope I cling ; even death shall not 
 tear it from me, should I not live to see it realized. For the 
 present, dear friend, I am in as sad a condition as a man can 
 be — reduced to the miserable, inactive life of a private scholar, 
 and also to the poverty which seems to belong to the lot of 
 such individuals; pulpit and cathedra lost to me; the uni- 
 
TROUBLES OF WAR. 75 
 
 versity, in which so fine a sphere of activity was being opened 
 up to me, dissolved, with little hope of its reconstitution as long 
 as our part of the country is occupied by the enemy ; for the 
 "reat conqueror seems to hold Halle in special detestation; 
 and if the reason be that our youths gave no signs of joy, or 
 even of admiration, when ho was here, and that their whole 
 conduct rather indicated the contrary, then I cannot help 
 rejoicing that it should be so. Well, I trust God will help 
 me to another field of activity, for, without such, life loses all 
 its value in my eyes. Oh, dearest Charlotte ! what birthdays 
 have I not had these last two years ! Before the first came 
 round, all the blossoms had been stripped from my tree of 
 fife; before the second, the storm had shaken off all the fruit. 
 "What shall we do with the bare trunk ? 
 
 You may probably have felt anxious about me on many 
 other accounts likewise, as rumour always exaggerates, and 
 after an engagement in a town one generally pictures to 
 oneself a thousand horrors, of which, however, few were 
 perpetrated here. 
 
 Ehrenfried writes me that Käthen has lost a brother. 
 Well, he has died the death of his profession, it is true, not 
 only in an unfortunate but in an ill-conducted conflict, in 
 which the blood of thousands was sacrificed by a few inca- 
 pable men, yet in a conflict for a great cause, in which every 
 one who falls is a costly and holy sacrifice, and not in a 
 vulgar quarrel of princes. 
 
 What is your excellent friend Moritz* about? Has he 
 not been advised to take a trip over seas ? for certainly he 
 cannot be one of the authors who have gained the good graces 
 of the mighty oppressor. Could we say this öf every German 
 it would be easy to provoke him to death; because, free 
 speech is to him the most deadly poison. Do write to me 
 soon, and tell me something about your peaceful, quiet home, 
 which may God long preserve to you ! 
 
 * G. M. Arndt. 
 
76 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 ' Schleier macher to Henrietta Herz. 
 
 [cclxxxiii.] Halle, 8th December, 1806. 
 
 . . . . In a few days I expect we shall, Avithout 
 fail, have accounts of a battle. If it be favourable to us, 
 it cannot prove very decisive, as lie holds too many fortified 
 places. You know, I suppose, that the king's head-quarters 
 are quite near the Dohnas' place. The severity in regard to 
 the officers is, no doubt, owing to the fact that none have 
 presented themselves to enter his new legion. For the rest, 
 I must say it is very good-natured of you to call the devil a 
 spoiled child; and the destruction of a university may very 
 well enter into his projects, even were he not so malevolently 
 revengeful. I am truly glad that they do not sue for mercy. 
 . . . . If you could manage to be much with the Reichardts, 
 it would give me great pleasure. Farewell, my only one ; I 
 must hasten from you to that wearisome review of Fichte, 
 which must absolutely be finished. 
 
 [cclxxxiv.] Halle, 28th December, 1806. 
 
 I have finally determined not to go to Bremen, and shall 
 write to-morrow to decline. I could not possibly renounce Halle 
 and my academical career as long as matters are so undecided ; 
 and I could not cither make up my mind to say to Masson, as 
 I once thought of doing, that he should only consider my 
 departure as a leave of absence, and that as soon as Halle 
 was re-established (alas ! it is established) — I mean as soon 
 as it was in activity again — I would return ; for the more 
 I reflected upon this, the more treacherous it seemed to me 
 towards the people of Bremen, and the more unworthy 
 of their kindness; while, at the same time, I felt it to be 
 treason against my inward vocation to leave this place. Were 
 it not for Nanni I should have little care about money mattei's. 
 I would live like a student, and my literary work would 
 siiffice to support me, however unfavourable the times might 
 be. But Nanni is here; nevertheless, I dare say we shall get 
 
TROUBLES OF WAR. i i 
 
 on, more especially as Masson must necessarily do something 
 for the university, or, when spring comes, all the professors 
 will disperse. At all events, I will not be the first to run 
 away, rather the last 
 
 [ccxxxxv.] HalU, 2nd February, 1807. 
 
 You must take a grander view of the destinies of 
 men, dear Jette, and then you will find in the present times 
 nothing more than what history shows us at all times, viz., that 
 after enervation comes dissolution, and struggles between life 
 and death, during which, even if it be but one baseness strug- 
 gling against another, the creative energies of the goodness 
 and capacities of the human mind are developed. Through- 
 out history we see the genius of man working in the same 
 way. The invisible hand of Providence, and the action 
 of man, is one and the same. If we look too much at par- 
 ticulars, the smallness of the objects makes us giddy. But 
 if you cannot help doing this, as is mostly the case with 
 women, then, at least, lay fast hold of your objects, and you 
 will perceive that even among these the difference is much less 
 than it appears when you mistake small things for great ones. 
 What can have happened to Misere ? There is little difference 
 between her present and her former joys and sorrows. And 
 this is not only applicable to Misere, but to every human 
 being. Verbally, I should be better able to demonstrate this 
 to you ; but you may find the fundamental thoughts of what 
 I should say, in one of my sermons on the justice of God. 
 This standard may be applied to all times. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 fcCLXxxvi.] Sagard, loth March, 1807. 
 
 Schleier ! dear Schleier ! my beloved friend ! my 
 father ! Oh, my God ! my God ! how shall I tell it to you, 
 and] how shall you be able to hear it ! Schleier, I am no 
 more the happy Jette, whose pure felicity you bore in 
 your heart, and at which you so tenderly rejoiced. My dear 
 
78 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 Schleier, prepare yourself to hear the worst ; the happy Jette 
 is now a poor, sorrowing, lonely, weeping Jette. Oh, my 
 Schleier ! let me then at once give utterance to the dreadful 
 word. My Ehrenfried — my deeply, tenderly beloved Ehren- 
 fried — is with me no more; he lives in another world. Oh, 
 Schleier ! can you realize it ? Can you conceive that I have 
 survived it ? I cannot myself understand it, nor the com- 
 posure with which I have borne it, and with which I still 
 bear it. How I long to open my whole heart to you ! Yes, 
 Schleier, you have, indeed, cause to weep over me ; but you may, 
 nevertheless, be without anxiety. God supports me wonderfully. 
 I do not despair, nor do I despond. I still live in the con- 
 sciousness of his love, and my love. I bear him ever in my 
 heart. I love him with all the energy, all the yearning 
 tenderness that my soul is capable of. Oh, Schleier! in the 
 midst of my anguish I have still rapturous moments when I 
 have a vivid feeling of how we loved each other, and that 
 this love is eternal, and that God cannot possibly destroy it, 
 because God himself is love. Schleier, I will bear this life 
 as long as nature wills it, for I must exert myself for his 
 and my children ; but, O God ! with what longing, with what 
 a presentiment of indescribable rapture, I look forward to the 
 world in which he lives ! What happiness woidd it not be to 
 me to die ! Schleier, shall I not find him again ? Oh, my 
 God ! I implore you, by all that you love and hold sacred, if 
 you can, give me the certainty that I shall find him again — 
 that I shall recognize him ! Tell me your innermost belief in 
 regard to this, dear Schleier. Alas ! it will be annihilation 
 to me to lose this faith. In this I live; through this I bear 
 with resignation and serenity ; it is the only thing I look for- 
 ward to, the only hope that sheds a faint glimmer of fight on 
 my darkened existence — to meet him again, to live again for 
 him, to make him happy. O God! it is not possible; it cannot 
 be destroyed, it is only interrupted. I can never again 
 be happy without him. Oh, Schleier ! speak to my poor 
 heart ; tell me what you believe. Ah ! does he, perhaps, also 
 long for me, remember me? Is he, perhaps, at times invisibly 
 
HENRIETTE VON WILLICII. 79 
 
 near me ? Oh, my poor heart, how it is drawn hither and 
 thither by hope and doubt ! Yet no, the doubt does not 
 extend beyond my thoughts ; this I feel as a never-failing 
 consolation, which can never desert me, that our love was 
 divine, and that death cannot destroy it. Oh, my Schleier ! 
 how I long for you ! You will be a comfort and a support to 
 me. I feel such unbounded trust in you, I will tell you all 
 that I experience during this time of sorrow. Oh, Schleier ! 
 how will not you also grieve for the faithful, beloved friend! 
 Oh, how happy I was ! With what joy I looked forward at 
 his side to being once more a mother! Now I shall shed 
 many tears over the little one's cradle. 
 
 Only eight days my Ehrenfried was ill of a nervous fever. 
 Alas! I was ever full of hope; I thought it impossible, I 
 nursed him with such tender love, and he was always so 
 gentle to me, so kind, so loving. Alas ! the last days the 
 fever was so violent that he was no longer conscious. Oh, 
 bitter memory ! and yet not unmixed with sweetness ! How 
 Ins love for me broke through his incoherent ravings ! He 
 gave me still sweet names, even after the illness had entirely 
 obscured his mind. The last word that he spoke to me was, 
 when I asked him if he no more knew his Jette: " Yes, Jette, 
 my sweet bride ! " Oh, Schleier ! how significant and how 
 true ! His bride, that I am ! — oh ! I will strive until I become 
 worthy of being reunited with him, of being again entirely 
 
 his Do you know when I feel my grief most 
 
 poignantly ? "When I think that in a future life there will be 
 nothing left of the old, whoever shall be worthiest of him 
 will be nearest to him — oh ! and there are many of those 
 that love him that are worthier than I — and when I think 
 that his soul is dissolved, merged in the great All — that 
 the past will not be recognized — that all is over — oh, 
 Schleier! this I cannot bear — oh! speak to me, dear, dear 
 friend ! 
 
 Farewell, Schleier, I have so much to say to you; and yet, 
 perhaps, I shall not write again for a long time. Nevertheless, 
 you will know from this how I feel. I suffer much ; but 
 
80 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEE. 
 
 inward tranquillity and outward composure never fail me 
 entirely. 
 
 Your Jette. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cclxxxvii.] Halle, 2hth March, 1807. 
 
 My poor, dear child ! Could I but press thee, poor 
 mourner, to my heart, we would mingle our tears ; for I also 
 am shedding bitter, scalding tears! Oh, to see so sweet a 
 happiness destroyed ! You know how my heart exidted in 
 it. But you set me such a beautiful example. Your grief 
 is so pure and so holy ; there is nought in it that your 
 father could wish otherwise. Let us, therefore, count it 
 among the noblest possessions of our lives, and love it as 
 we loved the dear departed, and submit tranquilly, though 
 sorrowfully, to God's eternal order of things. But you appeal 
 to me to settle your doubts. It is, however, only the images 
 of your painfully travailing imagination, which you wish me 
 to confirm. Dear Jette, what can I say to you? Certainty 
 beyond this life is not given to us. Do not misunderstand 
 me. I mean certainty for phantasy, which desires to see 
 everything in distinct images; but, otherwise, there is the 
 greatest certainty — and nothing would be certain if it were 
 not so — that for the soul there is no such thing as death, no 
 annihilation. But personal life is not the essence of spiritual 
 being; it is but an outward presentment thereof. How this 
 is repeated we know not — we can form no conception of it ; 
 we can only form poetic visions. But while giving yourself 
 up to your sacred grief, let your loving, pious phantasy shape 
 its visions freely, and restrain it not. It is a pious phantasy; 
 it cannot will what is contrary to the eternal order of Provi- 
 dence ; and, therefore, all that it paints will be true, if you 
 leave it but free scope. And thus, I can assure you, that 
 your love will ever attain all that it desires. Surely you 
 cannot now wish that Ehrenfried — O God! the beloved 
 name ! with what emotion I write it for the first time ! — ■ 
 surely you cannot now wish that he should return to life, 
 
HENRIETTE VON WILLICH. 81 
 
 for that would be contrary to the eternal order of thing??, to 
 Avhieh we all cling more earnestly than to any of our indi- 
 vidual desires. In this life, however, your love desires to 
 bear him in its heart, to preserve his memory inetfaceably, to 
 have his image ever before you as a holy and lifelike pre- 
 sence ; and that he thus lives on in you, and lives anew in 
 your sweet children — let this be enough for you. What 
 would, or what ought to satisfy you in a future life, you 
 cannot know ; for you know not the order that prevails there. 
 But when you are removed thither, you will know it, and 
 then there, as little as here, you will desire what would 
 be opposed to it, and most assuredly it will afford you as full 
 and rapturous satisfaction. 
 
 But if your imagination suggest to you a merging in the 
 great all, let not this, dear child, fill you with bitter, poignant 
 anguish. Do not conceive of it as a lifeless, but as a living 
 commingling — as the highest life. Is not the ideal towards 
 which Ave are all striving even in this world, though we never 
 reach it — the merging of the life of each in the life of all, and 
 the putting away from us every semblance of a separate exist- 
 ence? If then he lives in God, and you love him eternally in 
 God, as you knew God and loved God in him, can you conceive 
 of anything more glorious or more delightful ? Is it not the 
 highest goal which love can reach, compared with which 
 every feeling that clings to the personal life, and springs from 
 that alone, is as nothing ? But if you picture to yourself a 
 phenomenal life like the present, and conceive that you may, 
 under such circumstances, be distant from your beloved, and 
 that others may be nearer to him — dear daughter, that is an 
 empty phantom, that you must try to get rid of. Love is the 
 power that attracts spirits — the great and eternal law of their 
 nature. Does any one then love him more than you do ? or 
 does he love another better than you ? Are you not two 
 halves that complete each other ? Oh, as sure as my holy 
 joy in your marriage is one of the dearest sentiments of my 
 heart, you are this, and never in all eternity will any obstacle 
 rise up between you ! 
 
 VOL. II. G 
 
82 LIFE OF SCHLEIEKMACIIEE. 
 
 The day after to-morrow, it will be the anniversary of the 
 death of Christ. I will preach upon the text, " Except a corn 
 of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone : bnt 
 if it die, it bringcth forth much fruit." I will show how 
 death sanctifies all love; how, at his death, the most blessed 
 action of man begins, and that this is true in regard to each 
 human being in like manner as it is true in regard to Christ. 
 Dear Jette, my thoughts will be full of you and the dear 
 departed, and I shall speak with deeply- moved heart. I shall 
 renew with him the bond of true and holy brotherhood. I shall 
 speak comfort to myself — could I but do so to you likewise ! 
 In him the Gospel also has lost a faithful teacher, a preacher 
 full of truth and zeal, a soul without guile, which, through 
 its truth and its fidelity, would have worked much good. 
 Let us not forget this in our loss, and let us weep for this 
 also. 
 
 Dear daughter, by this time you are probably once more 
 a mother. Do let me know soon. Yes, many tears you will 
 shed over your babe. I have a presentiment that you have 
 given birth to a boy — oh, nourish his father's spirit in him, 
 and may God's blessing attend your endeavours, so that he 
 may thrive, and take the place of him whom the world has lost. 
 Oh, dear Jette, could I but be your father in every sense, 
 could I but tend you and support you in your sorrow with 
 fatherly affection, I would do so without concealing from you 
 my own grief. Try, therefore, to conquer all obstacles, and 
 to write to me often. It is a consolation to me to know that 
 you are in Sagard, in the house where your happy bridal 
 days were spent, and I bless yoiu- faithful, affectionate brother 
 for it. Yes, you are again his bride ; * your love has returned 
 to the period of sweet longings, and an eternal wreath adorns 
 your brow. As such it was that I first named you my 
 daughter, and such you shall remain to me. 
 
 * In German, bride denotes the period before marriage. — Trans. 
 
HENRIETTE VON WILLICH. 83 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [ccLX-xxvm.] April. 
 
 My beloved father, I thank you most heartily for your 
 letter — oh, how inexpressibly I longed for the first words 
 from you — it was as if Ehrenfried was once more to speak 
 comfort to me. You have strengthened like a true father — you 
 must be my father in the highest sense of the word — you can 
 be so — I give you my entire filial affection from the inner- 
 most impulse of my heart — I lean upon you alone. You will 
 support and guide your child ; you will not desert me in the 
 drear, drear hours, when grief seizes my heart with its 
 sharpest fangs. Oh, my father, it is too much — to live, and 
 to live without my Ehrenfried — it seems such a dreadful con- 
 tradiction ! 
 
 My hour of trial is over — a healthy child is in my arms. 
 Oh, my G-od, what feelings have passed through my heart on 
 this occasion ! 
 
 The poor, dear, little children ! Alas, what can poor I, 
 with all my love, do for them! — from him I drew all my 
 strength — he was my light, my sun. 
 
 Secretly, I nourished in my heart the thought that I should 
 die, and almost let it grow into a hope or a foreboding ; but 
 alas, I am to live! I can write no more — ah, love me, and 
 speak soon again a few kind words to me. Nothing soothes 
 me so much as to know that you are weeeping with me. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von WilUch. 
 
 [cclxxxix.] Halle, loth April, 1807. 
 
 My letters, which were sent by the same conveyance 
 that brought me yours, you have, I trust, received, my dear, 
 my noble daughter. And now I have obtained from Lotte's 
 letter the happy certainty that I had prophesied right. You 
 have given birth to a boy ! On the day of the Resurrection, 
 Heaven bestowed upon you this new life — a restored, a ncw- 
 
 g2 
 
84 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 born Ehrenfried. You will call him thus. I am sure you 
 will give him this earnest, solemn name ; * he brings you 
 peace now, and will be an honour to you hereafter. Oh, could 
 I but fold in one embrace the sweet babe, and you, my 
 daughter, and your little Jette — the son of sorrow and the 
 daughter of joy ! May I be able in time to help you to bring 
 up and educate the boy, and to teach him as a man what his 
 father was, as you will teach it to him as a woman. 
 
 Oh, what bitter sweet exultation I feel in you, in your hallowed 
 affliction, in your inexhaustible grief, in all the glorious things 
 that I hear about you, but which I need not hear to believe ! 
 For I know you and your love, which was too deep and too 
 pure to allow of a less pious and beautiful outburst of grief. 
 I have wept tears'of sorrow, but also tears of thankfulness over 
 you, and have rejoiced that you were my daughter, and have 
 recognized myself in your suffering ; for I feel that I would 
 bear in the same manner, outwardly and inwardly, could I 
 be subjected to a similar trial. Dear daughter, once more I 
 bless you in your affliction ; though your sorrow will never 
 vanish, a new life of joy will open up for you in your children. 
 Your son, the blessed Easter gift, will represent to you him 
 who has gone before into eternal bliss ; you will form his 
 image in the boy, and try to bring it forth in ever truer 
 beauty, and thus it will be the vocation of your widowhood, 
 to tend and protect as a mother that which you love and hold 
 sacred as a bride. For a short time, or for a long — how little 
 does this signify in the world — the highest happiness has been 
 yours, and is still yours, and, therefore, even in your sorrow 
 you are, as ever, my happy daughter. 
 
 At the hour when you brought the sweet boy so safely into 
 the world, I must just have been preparing to go to church ; 
 and I remember that I thought of you at the time. I spoke 
 of the glorified life of Christ upon earth. May the beautiful, 
 free, heavenly existence which I painted, be the lot of the 
 dear child, in like manner as your life and your love are now 
 truly glorified, and raised above all earthly trials. 
 
 * Literally, " honour peace." — Trans. 
 
HENRIETTE VON WILLICH. 85 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [ccxc] 28<A April. 
 
 How much good your kind words do me ! How your 
 affection and your approval comfort me. But, I implore you, 
 do not picture me to yoiu'self in too bright colours, for this 
 makes me uneasy. Deep and pure as was my love for 
 Ehrenfried, so is also my sorrow, and I shall ever strive to 
 become that which the sweet life with him would have made 
 me ; for though he is no longer with me, he still lives in me, 
 and continues to mould and form me. But, believe me, I am 
 nevertheless very weak — do not, I beseech you, praise the 
 strength and composure with which I have borne my loss, for 
 my state of mind would only be praiseworthy had I attained 
 to it through hard struggles ; but such is not the case. I have 
 been simply what I could not help being, because such is my 
 nature. As grief came to me, so I have borne it, and that is 
 tranquilly. I should be tormented by the thought that my 
 grief for the matchless and beloved man were not sufficiently 
 acute, did I not ever feel so vividly within me the most un- 
 utterable love for him ; were I not ever conscious of the most 
 intimate indissoluble union with him, and of the undying 
 character of my affliction, which has, so to say, become part 
 and parcel of my being. There have been hours, indeed, 
 during which I have learnt to know the deepest human 
 anguish; yet even after this, the certainty that my Ehrenfried 
 could never leave me, has always returned to me, and has 
 given me courage to bear a joyless existence, through help of 
 the blissful hope that I shall once find again in God, that which 
 He has taken away. Ah ! dear father, if I carried out at all 
 times what I recognize as right in hours of ecstasy, and then 
 believe nryself capable of — then I should be what you believe 
 me to be, and what you love in me — but alas, the excellence 
 and the beauty which I love and treasure in thought, I so 
 seldom realize in myself or carry out in life; not because I 
 lack good-will, but because I am wanting in inward strength 
 
86 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEß. 
 
 and quick sensibilities. At former periods of my life already 
 I had a painftd consciousness of my deficiencies in this respect, 
 and so also now — now that I must strive to attain the highest, 
 if I would not lose all. 
 
 Oh, how easy it was to be good, when I was happy ! I could 
 do nothing better than love him, and through him enjoy life 
 in gladness. Ah ! why was it to endure so short, that sweet 
 happiness ? So young, so new to life, and yet, to be dead 
 to all its joys — alas! am I not deeply to be pitied? Still, 
 how willingly would I not renounce every joy, could I but 
 have kept him; what strength did I not ever feel to bear 
 calmly every human suffering could I but be at his side ; 
 with what courage I contemplated the horrors of the war ! 
 Ehrenfried often said to me in jest, that he believed I was 
 wishing that the enemy would come, that I might have an 
 opportunity of proving my intrepidity. They did not come — 
 something far more dreadful was to befall me. 
 
 But I must speak to you a little of my sweet children. 
 How inexpressibly I love them, you know. Alas, there have, 
 indeed, been moments when I have contemplated their ex- 
 istence with a kind of bitterness and pain, because I felt as 
 if they alone prevented me from following my beloved. But 
 at other times I have felt ever deeper and deeper how God's 
 mercy has been revealed to me through them. My God, what 
 should I be now without them ! The darling children ! 
 Thanks be to God that I am here to devote my life to them. 
 . . . May He give me strength to rear the tender 
 plants, and by wise nurture to help them put forth the fullest 
 and fairest blossoms. I watch over them Avith ever-wakeful 
 care, yet how little can I do! I have so little reliance on 
 myself, and yet, on the other hand, I feel that I cannot leave 
 to another what nature has entrusted to the mother — the 
 first guidance of her children. To you I may confide, that 
 I am often troubled by the fear that kind and loving indivi- 
 duals of my family may feel themselves called upon to inter- 
 fere on this point, because they think that so young a mother 
 is hardly mature enough for the task. But perhaps I do 
 
HENRIETTE VON WILLICH. S7 
 
 them injustice, and I will, therefore, endeavour to discard the 
 thought. Should they do so, it will at all events be from 
 pure affection. Oh, my dear father, I need not tell you 
 what a joyful prospect it would be to me could I hope that 
 you would once serve my boy as model and example. But 
 the future is dark, and I can only wish and hope. My heart 
 is often sorely oppressed. It would be a great comfort to me 
 could I see you soon ; but I suppose it is vain to hope for this. 
 It seems to me as if I had so much to say to you. The chil- 
 dren occupy me all the day ; they draw me necessarily and 
 irresistibly into the midst of life, and I can already quite well 
 skip about with little Jette and play with her, though 
 inwardly my heart weeps the while for my Ehrenfried. 
 When I am quite alone with Ehrenfried's letters, I seek com- 
 fort and strength in tears and prayer. There is no more joy 
 for me than what may come to me through the happiness and 
 the improvement of the cliildren — to myself directly, the 
 source is for ever closed. 
 
 ScJdeiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [ccxci.] Halle, 8th May, 1807. 
 
 How may you and your little ones be getting on ? I 
 cannot help hoping that you are all well, and that the smiles 
 of your infant, and the innocent playfulness of your first-born, 
 in her unconsciousness of her great loss, as also the soothing 
 charms of nature, have by this time calmed your sacred 
 sorrow and deprived it of its bitterness, while they have 
 enhanced the sweetness which it contains, and which you 
 have also already tasted. Dear, mourning daughter, you are, 
 nevertheless, a blessed woman. For over such love as yours 
 death has no power, it is but a false appearance, Avhich will 
 vanish more and more. You will attain ever greater and 
 more lively certainty that Ehrenfried lives in you and in the 
 children, and in every case in which formerly you would 
 have looked up to him for guidance, he will now also afford 
 it to you; and every experience that you may acquire, every 
 
88 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEE. 
 
 new energy of love that arises within you, you will feel 
 comes from him. Therefore, also, you may be assured 
 that you will be to his and your children all that you 
 ought to be, and able to do for them all that you ought to 
 do — you alone, with your treasure of love, and that unclouded 
 understanding, that has its source in a pure heart. Oh ! 
 could I also, now and in future, be something to your sweet 
 children, so as to be able to exercise over them the rights 
 of a father, which you again so delightfully concede to me 
 as regards yourself. You know how indifferent life had 
 become to me; but now that the dear friend has left us, 
 who, humanly speaking, ought to have far outlived me, life 
 lays again a firm hold on me. I have now a dear daughter 
 who wants the support of her father; and her son, the heir 
 of the beloved name, will be glad on entering life to find a 
 faithful fatherly friend to guide him. See, dearest daughter, 
 for this let us live, and live willingly, I implore you, though 
 I think it quite natural that you should have wished to die. 
 God bless you, and comfort you, and strengthen you ! 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [ccxcn.] No date. 
 
 How I get on, dear father ? Ah ! could I but tell 
 you, could I but understand myself. Grief and calm reign 
 alternately in my bosom — calm, when I am surrounded by 
 my relatives, or when I am actively engaged with or for the 
 children ; but when no one sees and hears me, grief takes 
 possession of me. Then the murmurs so long restrained burst 
 forth — then the oppressed heart seeks relief in tears and 
 sobs. I do not weep much nor often, but when relieving 
 tears come, they are scalding tears, and well up from the 
 innermost depths of my being ; and then I feel that God 
 sees them, and that they are not wept in vain. Oh, my 
 dear father, the sweet comfort that you speak to me I have 
 just experienced in another way. I have just come from 
 church ; could I but describe to you how I feel when I give 
 
HENRIETTE VON WILLICH. 89 
 
 myself up entirely to God, -when my spirit is absorbed in 
 Him, when, without a wish and without a murmur, satisfied 
 in all ways, it demands nothing better than to melt away with 
 the tones of the hymn that sets forth His praise — when 
 thought ceases, and solemn light and darkness seem at one 
 and the same time to veil my eyes, and when I feel Ehren- 
 fried's presence so vividly, and that God will never take him 
 from me, because our love is His most beautiful law, and 
 because God dwells in him, and also draws me ever nearer 
 and nearer to Himself. How glorious it is to feel that I am 
 a child of God, that I have freed myself from the world, that 
 it has no more power over me, that it can give me nothing 
 and can take nothing away ! 
 
 I have thought much of you to-day, and have felt how 
 true it is that I am your daughter. Indeed, I often feel how 
 much I resemble you, and how I shall grow ever more and 
 more like you. 
 
 The first time I went to church after the birth of my little 
 Ehrenfried, I took the communion. Oh, what moments were 
 those ! How my soul travailed and prayed for a real, true 
 life in God, and for that true composure which does not ex- 
 clude the most lively grief, and for deliverance from that dead 
 tranquillity which is not tranquillity, but torpor. At such 
 moments I feel as if I had in me the strength to attain to all 
 that my soul beholds in its visions; and to you I may say it, 
 that when I examine my heart, I find no desire, no interest in 
 me that would interpose itself between me and my goal, and 
 lead me away from the latter. But nature has not endowed 
 me with the' quick sensibilities and lively emotions which I 
 see in others, and which even in early youth I prayed for as 
 a heavenly gift, the deficiency of which I felt bitterly. I 
 know, had I this, I could do much ; it would be like a sacred 
 flame, and would attune to a higher pitch the eternal chords 
 of humanity within me. 
 
 Ehrenfried would never allow that I had any right to make 
 this complaint ; but I know that it is true, and will prove it 
 to you. See, dear father, while in others I pexxeive that on 
 
90 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 given occasions their feelings are intensified to such a degree, 
 that they are obliged to struggle hard with them, and that 
 their whole being seems violently agitated — in regard to my- 
 self, I hardly know what such a struggle is. I believe that 
 no elevated or beautiful sentiment is quite unknown to me, 
 but, with the degree in which I experience them, I have 
 surely often reason to be dissatisfied. Even in my present 
 position, I have rarely experienced such frenzied, despairing 
 anguish that seems almost to annihilate all clear consciousness, 
 and yet mine is an affliction that cannot be exceeded — yea, 
 an affliction even unto death. My beloved father, I wish so 
 much that you should know me exactly as I am ! 
 
 You say that Ehrenfried lives in me and in the children. 
 Yes, dear father, I also feel this. I feel that he never refuses 
 to be with me, when I call to him with earnest longing ; I 
 cannot fail to recognize that he diffuses a heavenly blessing 
 through my soul. But then, oh, God ! as he must also live 
 another independent life besides this in us, I cannot help in- 
 dulging my heart in the blessed hope that I shall one day 
 participate more thoroughly in that life. It seems to me that 
 it is only this hope that gives truth and strength to the con- 
 tinued mental life with him as long as I am on this earth. 
 It would be intensely painful to me were I to conceive of 
 the beautiful relations between human beings as merely 
 evanescent, for in that case they would be only subordinate 
 means. How delightful it is, on the contrary, to think of 
 them as continuous, and as gradually expanding into ever 
 greater beauty as man himself reaches, step by step, a higher 
 perfection ! Dear father, I entreat you, give me your mind 
 on this subject. How much do I not also wish to hear ex- 
 plained, better than I am able to do so for myself, how the 
 spiritual in us is separated from the material, or, rather, 
 that which is immortal from that which is perishable. To me 
 it seems as if with life the images of life also must vanish, 
 though they are, indeed, taken in by the mind ; yet, again, 
 that self-consciousness must necessarily continue, and that 
 this cannot be possible without remembrance of the past. 
 
HENRIETTE VON WILLICTI. Ol 
 
 If I speak confusedly, have patience with me. Thank 
 God, you are my lather, and I need have no fear of you. If 
 Ehrenfried is able to think of me and the children, I know 
 exactly how he thinks of us ; and, oh, what emotion it 
 causes me when I dwell on this ! This evening, again, I have 
 felt such inexpressible longing for my beloved. It is a lovely 
 summer evening. A little girl told me that her mother was 
 lying under the mound in the churchyard. I went aside and 
 wept bitterly at the thought that he also lies there — he who was 
 everything to me ; and at the thought that I can enjoy nothing 
 now with a light heart, not even a lovely summer's day. 
 
 [ccxcm.] Poseritz, October 12th. 
 
 Our dear Rügen is sighing under a heavy yoke, and 
 no one knows how it will end. Alas ! how I wish the 
 strangers would go back again to their homes, after which they 
 are longing so much ! Though I do not suffer in regard to ex- 
 ternal circumstances, yet, as you know, every individual suffers 
 much in various other ways during such times. All bonds are 
 dissevered, all enlivening social intercourse impeded. I often 
 feel so unutterably lonely, I can neither see my sisters and 
 brothers, nor any other friends. . . . Nature is carrying 
 her beauties to the grave ; she speaks no longer to me with 
 cheerful prophetic voice — no longer breathes the spirit of love 
 and joy; around me and within me all is dark and dismal. 
 The dear children are my only occupation and my only solace. 
 Reading and writing I am seldom able to indulge in. I can- 
 not deny that sometimes I feel the privation rather bitterly, 
 and it seems' to me that I ought not entirely to submit to it. 
 Ah ! dear father, you will not misunderstand me, you will 
 not take as a complaint that which I disclose merely to give 
 you a true picture of my life. I have at all times present to 
 me that I am nothing but an instrument to promote the well- 
 being of the dear children, to nurse and to tend them. It is 
 not as if I lived a life of my own, and in this sense I may say 
 that I often forget myself and my fate entirely ; but when I 
 awake to greater consciousness, I am terrified at the misery 
 
92 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 and emptiness of the life that is left to me. Months go by 
 without my having an opportunity of hearing one forcible, 
 elevating thought — one deep and striking truth from the lips 
 of a cultivated man ; and yet for me there is no higher en- 
 joyment than to strive after light and truth, in as far as my 
 powers will admit. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [ccxciv.] No date. 
 
 At last I am able to write a few words to you, my dearly 
 beloved daughter, with the assurance that they will reach you 
 safely. The uncertainty in which I was hitherto in regard to 
 this, has deterred me from writing, and I have lived with you 
 in silent, uncommunicated thought only. You, also, have 
 kept back much that you woidd otherwise have communi- 
 cated. Perhaps hereafter the usual means of communication 
 will be open — though from such distressing causes that I 
 would far rather it should not be so — and then we shall often 
 interchange words, until the time comes when I hope I shall 
 be able to go to you and seek sad but sweet solace in your 
 company and that of your little ones. 
 
 For the present, I know not where to begin, as I would 
 fain avail myself of this opportunity to say all that I wish to 
 say. First of all, then, let me express what has given me 
 most pleasure, that you continue to call yourself my daughter, 
 and that you feel how much you resemble me. Yes, it is so, 
 my dear child ; and it is a consolation and a great happiness 
 to me in my lonesome life. But let me tell you, even in 
 regard to those points in yourself of which you complain, you 
 resemble me ; and as I thoroughly understand myself, and 
 have the power of looking calmly into myself, I camiot admit 
 the validity of your complaints. You cannot but feel that 
 that of which you complain is not a deficiency arising out 
 of the neglected culture of your nature, but your nature 
 itself. And how can you venture to complain of that which 
 is the immediate creation of God, for as such one nature 
 
HENRIETTE VON WILLICH. 93 
 
 must be as good as another. That which you look up to 
 in others as greater and more excellent, is simply different, 
 and you must see that you also reveal to them noble elements 
 which they do not find in themselves. Against this, indeed, 
 you humbly contend, and maintain that you have not attained 
 to what you are through struggles, but that it has come of 
 itself. But, dear child, that is just the way that all that 
 is most beautiful comes. What can man do more than 
 develop and purify his nature more and more through the 
 work of the spirit ? Force he need never use, unless where 
 he has previously allowed his nature to be violated by some 
 evil influence. Otherwise the work of divine grace in man 
 is a silent, quiet work ; and the more completely it is carried 
 out, the more natural it seems, and the more natural it is in 
 reality. Only that virtue which conquers faults is a struggle ; 
 that virtue through which each one of us evinces his own 
 peculiar perfection in the sense and spirit of God is nothing 
 more than calm action. "Why should you, therefore, deplore 
 that you rarely feel distracting grief? Do not you, even you, 
 because it is your nature, feel in your gentle sorrow more of 
 the divine and the beautiful influences, in which the beloved 
 of your heart reveals himself, than you are conscious of in 
 the moments of your more impassioned grief? The per- 
 fection of those dispositions, in whom you admire the higher 
 degree of life and sensibility, is one, yours and mine is 
 another. The former embrace, indeed, in their existence a 
 greater variety of the emotions that may arise in man, and in 
 so far they are richer, but they are at the same time more 
 dependent on • surrounding circumstances, more confused, and 
 more subject to irregular impulses. You are more equable, 
 and therefore a more immediate image of the eternal; and 
 you possess yourself in a higher degree, you are more uni- 
 formly in harmony with all the conditions amid which you 
 are placed, because you do not in a one-sided manner now 
 seize upon them in one way and now in another, but always 
 comprehend each in its entirety. That state which you call 
 torpor is also well known to me ; it is the natural defect of 
 
94 LIFE OF SCHLEIEEMACHEK. 
 
 such dispositions as ours, and it always makes its appearance 
 when they have been excited beyond their usual measure. In 
 the deepest anguish, when my whole being has been the most 
 convulsed, I have felt this torpor more than at any other time. 
 But you will no doubt always find, either in pious and tran- 
 quil self-communion, or in active occupation, the means of 
 restoring the clear consciousness of your inner being. In one 
 thing I beg you never to relax, and that is in your endeavours 
 to maintain the perfect independence of your maternal relation 
 to your children. This is due to you, and is also necessary 
 for you ; and in like manner as you are persuaded that it 
 would only be affection that would prompt any interference 
 with you on this point, so will you find the right mode of 
 evading it without giving offence 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [ccxcv.] No date. 
 
 Your last letter has given me great pleasure, my 
 beloved father ; I had been looking forward to it with 
 intense longing. Oh, dear friend, let us never again be so 
 long separated ! To me this separation has been very painful 
 — do you not know that no one in the world can strengthen 
 
 me as you do ? , I intreat you let me often have a 
 
 loving word from your full heart, an elevating word from 
 the depths of your faith, that my faith may strengthen and 
 refresh itself therewith. Alas, dear father ! why is there so 
 much suffering in the world ? A few days ago my beloved 
 brother bore his third child to the gi-ave. Such tender 
 parents they were, whose happiness centred in their children, 
 and they have lost three babes one after the other. My 
 brother's misfortune touches my heart very nearly ; he was 
 of a gay and cheerful temperament, his married life began 
 so happily, and now — all its young buds are prematurely 
 nipped. My youngest sister S. has also been deprived 
 by this of her greatest delight in life. She is staying with 
 my brother, and to be with the children was her highest 
 
HENRIETTE YON WILLICH. 95 
 
 happiness, and exercised a most beneficial influence on her. 
 I think I have never yet spoken to you about her, though 
 I am very fond of her. I believe she is by no means 
 mentally insignificant. But her fate has been the same as 
 mine, and must no doubt bear the blame of the crushed 
 blossoms of cheerfulness, of the absence of openness and 
 animation. We were in childhood left much to ourselves, 
 with the exception of a short period, during which we were 
 under the guidance of an excellent man, who died just as I 
 was beginning to cling to him with strong affection, and to 
 devote myself with great zeal to the mental occupations which 
 he had opened up to me. 
 
 Permit me, dear father, to put a question to you regarding 
 one observation in your letter which I do not quite under- 
 stand. You say that one nature is as good as another — that 
 I do not understand. It seems to me that there is veiy great 
 difference betAveen men, that some are born with higher, more 
 celestial, others with more earthly natures — that some are 
 called to lead a life so glorious and heavenly, that others dare 
 not even strive towards it, because it lies so entirely beyond 
 the limits of their powers. Now, when the latter become 
 conscious of their limitations, I think it is but natural and 
 allowable that they shoidd be filled with sadness, though I 
 believe, and have indeed experienced it, that every murmur 
 dies away when we resign ourselves entirely to God, and a 
 certain contentment takes possession of the heart, together 
 with the hope that through the grace of God we may perhaps 
 one day obtain that for which we pine. 
 
 You say, also, that our nature is the immediate creation of 
 God. But do we not frequently inherit from our parents the 
 defects and deficiencies of their natures ? Do you not believe 
 that many children are born in sin, and can only, subse- 
 quently, pm-ify themselves by conflict and repentance? Allow 
 me to ask you, you dear father, do you believe that God 
 exercises direct action here below, independently of his 
 being in man and in everything that is ? and do you 
 recognize in individual events, only the natural course of 
 
96 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 things, following each other 'as cause and effect, which must, 
 indeed, also depend upon God — or a distinct willing and 
 working of the Highest? Forgive me, dear friend, if I do 
 
 not always express clearly what I mean May I 
 
 continue to chat with you in this way about any subject that 
 occurs to me ? 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [ccxcvi.] Berlin (no date). 
 
 Dearest Charlotte, what a time it is since I have 
 written to you, though I have repeatedly received welcome 
 and friendly lines from you. Want of safe means of convey- 
 ance has deterred me, and, besides this, my writing letters 
 always depends upon my enjoying a certain amount of quiet, 
 which at the present period I can rarely command. I cannot 
 now think of Eugen, and more especially of you, without 
 anxiety, as the roar of battle is likely soon to be heard in your 
 vicinity. But you are courageous and prudent, and in your 
 Käthen you have a strong and faithful supporter such as few 
 have. I do not wonder that you feel yourself bound to him 
 more closely than ever, but I rejoice heartily at it. The 
 present, though a period of dissolution, in many ways 
 tightens the bonds of \mion between those who are closely 
 related, and also affords uncommon opportunities for the 
 revelation of inward capacity and of the strength of affec- 
 tion. And it is thus, no doubt, that you two have been 
 able to gain a deeper insight into each other's hearts, from 
 which you have derived new joy in each other. I should 
 like to knoAv what view Käthen takes of the position of your 
 lovely country, and what are his hopes and his wishes in 
 regard to it, though it is true that no hope can be entertained 
 for any country separately, but all must depend upon the 
 effect of these convulsions on our common German fatherland. 
 We must look far into the future, and learn to discern with 
 some certainty what it promises, if we would not lose all 
 courage and all joy in life. My endeavours to do this absorb 
 
HENKIETTE VON WILLICH. 97 
 
 so much of my time and strength, that I have little left 
 (perhaps less than I ought to have) for those matters which 
 tised to occupy me the most, and which come most imme- 
 diately within my sphere. But as regards my own very uncer- 
 tain, and at this moment apparently utterly ruined prospects, 
 I am even more composed and indifferent than I expected to 
 be. In view of the great spectacle that is unrolling itself, the 
 little separate interests of life entirely disappear. The least 
 that I might be able to effect in regard to the former, would, 
 at this moment, give me infinitely more pleasure than the 
 greatest that I could effect in my own circle 
 
 I am longing to get back to my books and papers, so 
 as to make amends in winter for the sins of the summer, 
 and to be able once more to enjoy with my sister the society 
 of our friends in Halle. But not even a few weeks in 
 advance, is it possible at present to make any plans ; the 
 peace, for which we bear no blame, is even more uncertain 
 than was the war. One determination only I hold fast, and 
 that is, to follow the fortunes of my immediate fatherland, 
 Prussia, as long as it continues to exist, and does not prove 
 itself quite unworthy of this resolve. Should it entirely suc- 
 cumb, then I will, as long as it is feasible, seek the German 
 fatherland wherever a Protestant can live, and a German 
 governs. In this way, I shall always be able to accomplish, 
 in some measure, the duties of my vocation. Such must be 
 the consolation of those who cannot bear arms. Ali! take 
 care that your boys grow up strong, and powerful, and firm, 
 and defiant, and warlike, yet gentle and affectionate. 
 
 Do write soon again. 
 
 [ccxcvn.] Berlin, Slst December, 1807. 
 
 Dearest Charlotte, I am delighted with the glorious 
 thought that has been discussed since I wrote to you. I 
 watched with great anxiety the plans of emigration pro- 
 jected by our friend Herz,* and I did all that I could to upset 
 
 * At her husband's death, already, a great change had taken place 
 in the pecuniary position of Henrietta Herz, who was, in consequence, 
 
 VOL. II. H 
 
98 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 them or to delay their execution, and to devise means for her 
 awaiting here the final result of affairs. But to know that 
 she is with you is even more satisfactory to me than to 
 have her here, although I shall lose so much by it. It is 
 long since anything has pleased me so much as this, and I 
 can now contemplate with so much greater serenity my own 
 unsettled and, as to the future, most uncertain position. You 
 must have been in some error regarding this matter, dear 
 friend, when, during my stay here last summer, you wrote 
 that you would rather wish me back in my wonted sphere 
 of activity in Halle. This was and is destroyed ; the uni- 
 versity is provisionally dissolved, and only a peace favour- 
 able to Prussia could have rendered its re-establishment 
 possible. The new Westphalian government does, indeed, 
 hold out a hope of its reconstitution ; but I cannot submit to 
 that government, and as long as there be a German prince, 
 under such I must live. For to operations which are directed 
 straightways towards the destruction of German sentiment and 
 German spirit, I cannot give even the support which my pre- 
 sence Avould imply. During the last two months of my stay in 
 Halle, I felt under great restraint, and after prayers had been 
 ordered in the churches for the king and queen of Westphalia, 
 it was no longer possible for me to stand up in the pulpit. In 
 short, I have not heart to teach there, and I have therefore left 
 
 obliged, in a great measure, to renounce that sociable life -which had 
 been to her the source of the greatest enjoyment, because, in inter- 
 course with all the brightest spirits of the day, she felt that she was 
 not only a recipient, but also a diffuser of moral and intellectual 
 life. Subsequently, the political convulsions which disturbed *he 
 finances of the country further reduced the resources of this excellent 
 and distinguished woman, who was the sole support of her blind 
 mother and unmarried sister, and she found it necessary to look 
 around for some means of making a livelihood. Having, at the en- 
 treaty of her friends, and more especially of Wilhelm von Humboldt, 
 declined to accept brilliant offers made to her abroad to undertake 
 the education of princely scions, she ultimately determined to re- 
 move to Rügen, and there took up her domicile with Charlotte von 
 Käthen, and became the instructress of her children. — See Fürst 
 Henriette Herz, Ihr Leben, &c. — Tkans. 
 
HENRIETTE VON WILLICH. 99 
 
 the place entirely, and I should have left, even had I not had 
 the firm conviction that a French government cannot possibly 
 allow a German university to go on undisturbed. I came 
 here in the summer to deliver some lectures, and thus to sub- 
 stitute something similar for my ruined sphere of activity. 
 At present I hold the same object in view, if I can but find 
 auditors. The government has, besides, declared its inten- 
 tion to found a university here instead of the one that has 
 been lost, and, as one of the preliminaries, my appointment 
 to it has been talked of. I shall, therefore, settle here for the 
 present to see whether circumstances will favour the exe- 
 cution of this plan. Here I may still preach without feeling 
 my heart oppressed ; and this, with a little leisure and my 
 daily bread, is all that I strictly require. 
 
 The year that ends to-day has taken much from us all ; so 
 much that I heartily rejoice to think of friends who have 
 only shared some individual loss or other with me, or have 
 only suffered such themselves. My welfare has on all sides 
 been shaken to its very foundations, yet I see nothing that 
 promises an entire change for the better. To keep up my 
 courage and be steadfast, to enjoy cheerfully what is left, to 
 look hopefully forward to what I shall not live to witness, 
 that is all that remains to me. Give my hearty, most hearty 
 greetings to dear Käthen. How rejoiced I am at the impor- 
 tance he attaches to having our friend with you 1 How 
 delighted I shall be if I am able this summer to go to you, 
 and to find us all again united, with the exception of one who 
 is gone before us ! 
 
 I hope soon to be more settled here, and to be able to write 
 to you oftener. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [ccxevm.] 30th January, 1808. 
 
 . All ! you know what memories are stirring 
 in me m these days — what painful scenes are passing before 
 me — how I sat at the bedside of my suffering husband and 
 felt myself so forlorn — how I listened to every breath — how I 
 
 H 2 
 
100 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 watched every gentle movement, in earnest expectation that 
 some sign of improvement would soon show itself. Alas ! I 
 waited and waited. 
 
 How often I lose myself in contemplation of the wonderful 
 guidance of our destiny ! how darkness closes around me when 
 I venture to look deeper into its mysterious concatenations ! 
 But ever more and more clear is my faith in the relation 
 between the individual and his fate ; ever more clearly I 
 understand those words of Novalis : " Destiny and character 
 (gemiith) are only two different names for the same idea, " 
 which long dwelt in my memory without my understanding 
 them. It is certain that in early youth already, a vague pre- 
 sentiment of my present fate was shadowed forth in the dreams 
 of the girl. Wide-spread and cheerful activity in the midst 
 of the world was never included in the pictures of life which 
 accompanied my steps up its ascent; quiet retirement from 
 the world and its affairs — renunciation of the sweetest joys 
 of life — longing looks towards heaven, seeking for love there 
 — high enjoyment in spiritual intercourse with the living 
 and the dead — such were the tendencies early developed in 
 me, and most in accordance Avith my nature. It was no sur- 
 prise to me when I found love, but when enduring earthly 
 happiness was opened up to me, then I was surprised. And 
 to me, in the depths of my pain, it seemed neither strange nor 
 unexpected when it vanished. 
 
 Dear father, you do not know how much good you do me, 
 you more than any one else, by your confidence in me. How 
 I wish I could adequately thank you for it ! and yet again, 
 it depresses me, because I always feel so little worthy of it ! 
 I often see distinctly how you carry over upon me the 
 sweet image, which you bear within yourself, of a daughter 
 such as would be worthy of you ; and as there is indeed some 
 resemblance between me and the beloved image, you overlook 
 the great dissimilarities that are concealed beneath it. Alas ! 
 I have often such violent attacks of this morbid self-distrust, 
 that I feel as if I must tear myself away from all those who 
 cling to me, because they see me in a deceptive light, and 
 
HENRIETTE VON WILLICH. 101 
 
 it is denied to me to become that which they believe me to 
 be. You know that this state is but transitory, but a lasting 
 discontent, nevertheless, dwells in me, and because it is lasting 
 I know that it cannot be unfounded. Ah! dear friend, I 
 shall never be healed while here ; the source is deeper — ah ! 
 how shall I express to you what I believe it is ? want of love, 
 narrowness of heart — I believe it is that. Kind father, with- 
 draw not thy hand from me, when one day thou shalt become 
 aware that I am speaking the truth. 
 
 [ccxcix.] 2nd February. 
 
 Calm sorrow dwells in me on this anniversary of the 
 most painful parting, and serene and solemn joy, that he, the 
 dear one, is gone into a higher life and to higher joys. This 
 day will be celebrated by those spirits with whom the glorious 
 soul entered into closer bonds when he took leave of this life. 
 
 Just as this morning a bright sunbeam fell upon me, so also 
 on that morning the sun shone out after many gloomy days, 
 and its brightness made an indescribable impression on me. 
 The preceding night had been full of terror, being the first 
 in which total hopelessness had taken possession of me — but 
 then I could pray, I could hope again ; and, full of new strength, 
 I went in to the beloved patient, to devote myself anew to 
 nursing him. But, alas ! when the symptoms of the malady 
 became so terrific that I could not maintain my composure, 
 my friends led me away, and I never saw him again alive! 
 It has pained me greatly, and I have often deeply regretted, 
 that I did not hold his hand at the last moment ; but a certain 
 anxiety about myself and desire to spare myself in the state I 
 then was, induced me to yield to the entreaties of my friends to 
 keep away from his room. Ah ! would that I had not yielded ! 
 How indescribably I longed, and in memory still long, for 
 one moment only of clear consciousness, for one loving word at 
 parting? Oh ! why was this happiness denied to me ? Surely 
 I would have been strong, and such words would have been for 
 ever after a source of infinite comfort to me. Oh, how beau- 
 tiful was the death of my mother ! When she had expressed 
 
102 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEK. 
 
 with full certainty that death was approaching, the pious, sor- 
 rowing old father, who was seated at her bedside, asked her if 
 he should read to her out of the Bible or the hymn-book. 
 " No, dear father," she answered, " I need not that ; I have 
 long been prepared for this hour. Now call together our 
 children; I wish once more to see and to speak to them all." 
 She took most affectionate leave of us, and then calmly fell 
 asleep 
 
 "With what fervour I have to-day consecrated my life anew 
 to the dear children — Ids children 
 
 Believe me, dear father, there are dissonances in me of 
 which you have no suspicion. I would not give expression to 
 them in distinct words; but believe me, and detract something 
 from the sweet image of me, which you bear in your heart. 
 One thing that pacifies me in regard to myself is, that there is 
 one point in which I feel that I can concentrate all that is best 
 in me — my motherhood. Yes, dear father, I promise you, I 
 will be a good mother ; for this I feel strength and capacity, 
 and not only good will. You shall never have reason to up- 
 braid me with weakness, or with motherly vanity ; only Avhen 
 reproach would be unjust — when the limits of my nature for- 
 bid me to be more — only then will you find me fail. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermaclier* 
 
 [ccc] hth August, 1808. 
 
 How is it that my heart is overflowing, and yet I can 
 say nothing that you knew not full well already ? Or would 
 you like to hear it again and again, how unutterably I love 
 you, how indescribably happy I am ! Could I but once fully 
 express how deep veneration, heartfelt gratitude, and child- 
 like love are blended in the one sentiment, which now 
 dwells in me, complete, and definite and pure — how I long 
 to live entirely for you — what an insatiable desire I have to 
 
 * Written after Schleiermacher had heen to Rügen, and they were 
 betrothed. No letters relating to the interval of six months between 
 this event and the preceding letter have heen found. 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 103 
 
 see you happy — a desire that makes me feel that I would 
 gladly sacrifice myself for you, could that make you happy! 
 
 God ! it often seems to me that I can hardly bear the 
 blissful thought that it is to me that you will devote your 
 life, your holy love. How grateful I feel to you, dearest, for 
 the beautiful delicacy with which you gradually drew nearer 
 to me — which did me so much good, and which aAvakened 
 corresponding sentiments in me sooner than would have been 
 the case had you at once revealed to me the fulness of your 
 love and demanded mine in return, before I had found the 
 way to link together my past and my present happiness. 
 
 Tell me, my beloved father, are you really pleased to see 
 me give myself up so entirely to joy and happiness ? "When 
 
 1 think of our dear Ehrenfried, and a gentle breath of sorrow 
 passes through my soul, I ask myself whether I ought not, 
 perhaps, to bear otherwise the new mercy of God bestowed 
 upon me through you? "Whether it is right and proper that I 
 should enter life again with such youthful freshness, and open 
 my heart so entirely to joy, when not long ago I prayed that 
 undying sorrow might follow the widow through life ? Oh, 
 I need not tell you how Ehrenfried fives in the depth of my 
 soul — how sacred to me is every remembrance of him ; you 
 know it. Yet I am now so completely happy through you — 
 as happy as I possibly can be. 
 
 With what pleasure I look forward to your first letter, I 
 cannot describe to you, my dear, dear Ernst. Ali ! am I still 
 so dear to you as Avhen you were here — when you called me 
 your sweet heart? I never now for a moment doubt your 
 love; but I do ask myself sometimes, Will he then really wish 
 to share with me all that is dearest and most sacred to him ? 
 But herein also you shall ever follow your own bent, only 
 remembering that you will be conferring indescribable hap- 
 piness on me whenever you impart to me any of your trea- 
 sures. However, you may be assured that I shall never, even 
 through the faintest betrayal of sensitiveness, restrain you in 
 regard to what you may wish to be to, or to share with, your 
 friends of either sex. Not to be able to understand, will 
 
lO-t LIFE OF SCHLEIEKMACHER. 
 
 always pain me ; but I will not allow a shadow of ill-humour 
 to arise in me in consequence, and I will wait patiently till you 
 turn again to your simple little wife. My dearly beloved 
 Ernst, farewell ! Do write me soon a few affectionate wo: 
 and tell me also if there be anything in me that you do not 
 approve of, if it be ever so trifling a matter. I implore you. 
 
 You dear, excellent soul, may you be truly happy, and 
 pray you also for me, that God will pour his blessings into 
 my heart, and make it rich in love and piety, and in all gifts, 
 without which I cannot make you happy. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [ccci.] Berlin, 1th August, 1808. 
 
 Dear, only beloA'ed Jette, in Prenzlau I could not find 
 a moment to write to you, and I was not sufficiently anxious 
 to force one into my service. What gratification could a few 
 lines have given you, which could only have told you that we 
 had got so far safely ? "We have been back here since five 
 o'clock on Friday evening, and although I have not as yet 
 done any work, I hope to commence with a thorough good- 
 will to-morrow, or, at the latest, the day after. Be not sur- 
 prised, dear heart, that I commence with this ; it is the most 
 important in regard to my well-being here, which can only 
 be secured by a great deal of work. Trinity Church was 
 one of the first objects which I could clearly distinguish, and 
 thus I had at once before my eyes the consolatory and 
 delightful object for the attainment of which I must fir^t 
 of all strive. 
 
 Thanks be to God, who has given thee to me, and has 
 bestowed upon me the hope of the blessed life which we will 
 prepare for each other, and the delicious repose which upholds 
 and encircles our union, and the firm consciousness that that 
 which has developed itself so purely and so equably in us, 
 i- the loveliest and the best He could bestow. Accept a 
 tender and grateful embrace, my sweet beloved bride, and be 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 1<>.> 
 
 entirely mine, and hope for a blessed fulfilment of our wishes, 
 
 without fear of anything, for all will be well at last. 
 
 To my dear sister Lotte, I wrote a few words yesterday, to 
 announce my happiness. If your heart approves, then send 
 me soon a few affectionate lines for her; it will give her so 
 much pleasure to hear from you. 
 
 During the short period since my return, I have already 
 met with much affection and confidence in various new and 
 important quarters, and have also seen significant portents of 
 what I predicted, viz., that great convulsions would soon take 
 place in Germany, and I feel now even an increase of that 
 pleasurable emotion which I told you it caused me to think 
 that our fate is intimately interwoven with that of our country. 
 Should it happen — which I do not, indeed, as yet foresee, 
 but which may nevertheless come to pass — that I should be 
 much mixed up with these commotions, then keep up your 
 courage, and remember that fatherland, you, and the children, 
 are my watchwords. But let us write very diligently to each 
 other as long as it is feasible ; so that when the time of priva- 
 tion comes, we may already have a nice little collection of 
 tokens of remembrance from the first period of our union. You 
 are, I trust, still as content in heart — as content, as happy, as 
 full of trust — as I am. Jette, my heart's beloved, I know it can- 
 not be otherwise, because in you and in me it is the same, and 
 lias grown in the same way; but, nevertheless, do not give 
 up repeating it to me, it is so delightful to hear. Think also 
 frequently of all the sweet, happy moments which that blessed 
 time bestowed upon us in such rich measure, and let us con- 
 tinue them as .well as we can during our separation. Every 
 word of endearment is a kiss; and at each outburst of your 
 feelings, I hear the throbbings of your gentle, loving heart ! 
 
 "While at Stralsund, I visited Ehrenfried's grave, and with 
 undoubting confidence I held out my brotherly hand to him in 
 the other world, in token of the new tie between us. His spirit 
 is surely with us! Greet and kiss the children from me, for my 
 heart clings to them. God bless and watch over you, my dear 
 beloved child, and remember that I am ever with you in spirit. 
 
106 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 [cccii.] 10th August, 1808. 
 
 Here I sit, darling Jette, in my former solitude, with- 
 out being able as yet to feel quite at home in it. My work 
 is not entirely to my taste, because so many other things 
 are running in my head. A thousand times a day I bewail 
 that I have not you and the children here. Just now, again, 
 while we were at breakfast, I was whimpering to Nanni about 
 what a pity it was that we did not take a right view of the 
 matter, and come to a more bold decision. At a pinch, we 
 might all very well have found room ; and that we should 
 want bread, such a silly weak fear never entered my mind, 
 and surely not either yours. You would have come with 
 entire confidence, had you seen that I was equally confident. 
 
 Am I not sinning against you, my sweet beloved, more 
 especially as I know that you are courageous and strong, in 
 leaving so long unfulfilled the duties towards you and our 
 children, which I have, in fact, already taken upon myself? 
 Believe me, dear heart, it is not passionate impatience, not 
 morbid longing, but only a correct and profound appreciation 
 of the character of our times, in which nothing, absolutely 
 nothing, is secure beyond the present moment. Had I seen 
 this as clearly while in your tranquil, lovely island as I do 
 here, I believe we would have managed to take better mea- 
 sures to bring everything to a conclusion, and to unite us all 
 sooner. Here, again, you are without blame, but am I so 
 likeAvise ? Do I not, in fact, deserve that the sweet hope 
 which I did not know how to secure and to change into 
 reality by the strength of my will, should vanish, and that 
 fate should snatch me away before I can call you entirely my 
 own ? And should it turn out eveu better than Ave expect, 
 «hall 1 not, on the other hand, be a thousand times more 
 happy than I deserve to be ? It is true, if I were at this 
 moment to resolve to conquer all obstacles, and to bring you 
 home this autumn already, I should not know how to accom- 
 plish it; but, Avhile I was with you yonder, had we pondered 
 in common, I believe Ave should have hit upon some good and 
 feasible plan. IIoAvever, our life, during the coming winter, 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 107 
 
 might have begun with much anxiety and suffering; and 
 this is, in fact, the reason why I left you behind in safety 
 under the protection of kind friends. But as I am sure 
 that if you were my wife, you would not leave me in times 
 of need and clanger, so I think you would willingly have 
 become mine at once, to share them with me. But why am 
 I telling you all this, as it cannot otherwise than make you 
 sad, and, perhaps, also perplex you ? Because I want you to 
 know exactly my state of mind ; for these feelings are not 
 merely the result of a transitory mood, but will dwell in me, 
 and be more or less apparent, until at length the happy hour 
 arrives. Also, because I do not wish you to think me better 
 than I am, and that you may see the weakness of character 
 that reveals itself herein. For does it not seem to you, also, 
 as if I had not been brave enough, not manly enough, to set 
 aside what was merely an empty phantom? And now, dearest 
 Jette, I will endeavour to get the better of this repining and 
 this longing, and throw myself into the arms of sleep, and 
 to-morrow I will add a few words. 
 
 Ala ! dearest, say, do you also long very much for me ? 
 Do you know and do you feel thoroughly what you are to 
 me, and how much richer and more glorious my life would be 
 if I had you here ? Does it trouble you that, now that we 
 are separated, my love seems less serene than during the 
 delightful time we spent together ? Never mind this ; it is 
 nevertheless always the same love, and, after all, serenity is 
 its fundamental character. Therefore, also, I become ever 
 more calm, more tranquilly joyful, the more vividly I bring 
 you before my .mind's eye. 
 
 Quick ! let me wish you and the children an affectionate 
 good morning. Towards morning I dreamt a great deal about 
 your being here, and, in consequence, I have already been 
 very diligent, almost for the first time since my return, and I 
 shall see how far I can get on to-day. In fact, according to 
 my nature, I ought at present to feel a strong impulse to work 
 well and diligently; for, under such circumstances, I live most 
 heartily and most intimately with my friends, and with you 
 
108 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEK. 
 
 above all others. If you would do me a great service, com- 
 mission Nanni to greet me in your name, whenever she thinks 
 I require it most, or it would be most wholesome. 
 
 Dear Jette, how joyful I am in my heart of hearts ! I 
 have found the precious treasure, and I feel inclined to give 
 up everything else, and to invite the whole world to come and 
 partake of our glorious life. I feel also less and less repug- 
 nant to take you away from your lovely Eugen ; for, where- 
 ever we settle, we will create a little paradise of our own. Dear 
 sweet, wherever you are there is love and healthy life ! A 
 thousand kisses for yourself and for the children. Take care 
 that they do not forget me. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [ccciii.] 11th August, 1808. 
 
 My most hearty greetings to you, beloved friend and 
 dear sister, in remembrance of the happy time that we spent 
 with each other in such pure and heartfelt affection and joy. 
 Such rich fruit as it has borne to me, no others indeed can have 
 reaped ; but on all it must, nevertheless, have acted like a re- 
 freshing restorative, and your friendship will know how to 
 appropriate a share even in that happiness, which has fallen 
 more exclusively to my lot, as indeed everything must ever 
 be and remain common among us. Were I not deeply im- 
 pressed with this conviction, I should feel ashamed of being 
 the one who from all sides received the most and the 
 best. You saw me as you had seen me and known me 
 before, only for a longer time, and perhaps under less con- 
 straint. But, although I had also known you previously, I 
 had never before been an immediate witness of your home- 
 life, and this is a great thing. Not until then did I acquire 
 a clear and definite conception of your manner of living with 
 your children, with Käthen, in your household, and now I 
 can follow your life even from a distance, in all its details. 
 Therefore, let me now reap all the fruits of this, by keeping 
 me ever informed of the consecutive events of your life, dear 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 109 
 
 Lotte ; so that everything that touches you nearly may also 
 touch me, and that I may know in what measure you are 
 made to taste of the sweets and bitters of life. At present, I 
 follow you in thought through the labours of the harvest, and 
 wish that the joy which the gathering in of these blessed gifts 
 always occasions may be reflected in your heart and sweeten 
 the trouble. On our journey home we found that the harvest 
 had already begun in Anklam, and that nearer home it was 
 almost over ; but the nearer Ave drew to the great city the 
 more my interest in the harvest vanished, because it has so 
 little to do with life here. Believe me that, from this point 
 of view also, though you may probably not have felt it, the 
 time I spent with you was most beneficent to me, in as far as 
 I was once more brought into immediate contact with, and 
 had an opportunity of rejoicing in, man's labour in connection 
 with nature, this groundwork of all other activity and of all 
 well-being. Just as the simple, strengthening fragrance of the 
 blooming corn-fields and meadows act upon my senses, so 
 does the sight of these labours act upon my mind. 
 
 Above all things, keep me informed of the progress of 
 your children ; the longer I was with them the more, I 
 may say, I lived myself into their life, and rejoiced in 
 them. I mean the elder ones, for of the younger ones I 
 saw, unfortunately, too little. For the latter you ought to 
 have a sensible nurse, who should at the same time be 
 a woman of some education. This would save you a 
 great deal of trouble and many petty annoyances. Dearest 
 Lotte, had I but already such a home-lite to present to 
 you, and to invite you to come and witness ! In a certain 
 measure you may form a picture of what it will be, from 
 my life in Götemitz and my manner of being with Jettchen, 
 with Nanni, and with the children; and you will, therefore, 
 probably be less impatient than I am. Dearest Lotte, I 
 am afraid my impatience will go on increasing ; but I have 
 determined to behave very well, and to be mindful of my 
 health, to take everything easy, if possible, and, at all 
 events, to encounter with fresh courage those matters which 
 
110 LIFE OF SCnLEIERMACIIER. 
 
 cannot be taken easily, so that I may get well through the 
 •winter, and find myself in full vigour on the arrival of the 
 lovely spring which is to be the happiest in my life. I do not 
 know whether any one can entirely realize the peculiar state 
 of my present feelings. I believe that the combination is a 
 very unusual one, and to give full utterance to it, I must be 
 a poet. But, perhaps, every betrothed says the same. Be it 
 so ! Nevertheless, I believe I am right. The sorrow on 
 which our love is based, and which will ever be an inherent 
 element in it, my previous relation to Jettchen, and the mode 
 in which the world claims my innermost being and my whole 
 heart at this very moment, when I would fain retire completely 
 within myself — such a state of things cannot be common. God 
 bless you and strengthen you ! 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [ccciv.] Halle, ISth August, 1808. 
 
 On Monday, just four weeks after we had pledged our- 
 selves so joyfully to each other, I received your first letter, my 
 sweet Jette. My God ! how much hast Thou bestowed upon 
 me in this short time! with what a completion has my 
 agitated life been crowned ! But I am no longer in that state 
 that I feel inclined to question whether it be really true. I 
 have already lived myself into it; I possess it and enjoy it 
 eveiy day and every hour. When I think of you and of the 
 children, it is as when an absent husband and father thinks of 
 his dear ones. I am sure you must feel the same; you must 
 think of me as if I were absent on a journey, and were soon 
 to return, and that we were then to move into a new dwelling. 
 It cannot be otherwise. Longing for you, and the sweet, 
 tranquil certainty that you are mine, are blended into one 
 feeling. But, dearest Jette, what of this gratitude that you 
 say you feel towards me ? Do you know, that if I am to tell 
 you everything that displeases me in you, I should like to 
 begin with this. You mean, no doubt, something very beau- 
 tiful, though I do not exactly know what ; but look well at it, 
 
LOVE LETTERS. Ill 
 
 and do not give it this name ; for gratitude refers to benefac- 
 tion, and of such there cannot possibly be a question between 
 you and me. Can a person bestow benefits on himself? Can 
 the right hand do this to the left, the head to the heart, the 
 nerves to the muscles? Can a father give charity to his child? 
 It also seems to me that I could only feel gratitude towards a 
 person who was otherwise indifferent to me, towards a patron 
 of exalted rank, or some such ; and yet, when we look closely 
 at it, we see that it is nought. Your veneration for me makes 
 me a little ashamed of myself ; but we will leave that as it is. 
 Each one of us has some advantage which has claim to the 
 veneration of the other; and, on my side, I shall not fail in 
 reverence towards you. But your childlike love ! Yes, 
 sweet heart, that I accept; for that sweet relation between us, 
 and our common love for our dear Ehrenfried and for all that 
 belongs to him, is the groundwork of the love we now feel 
 for each other and of our great happiness. My dear heart, 
 that you were pleased with the manner in which I approached 
 you gratifies me, and I find it very natural ; but, I beg you, 
 do not attribute this to me as a merit, and do not suppose 
 that it was in the very least precalculated, or that I concealed 
 anything until the opportune moment. No, dear Jette, I gave 
 utterance to everything that was clear to myself; all the rest 
 was, no doubt, vaguely present, but just because it was vague, 
 it could not develop itself, until that which was clear and 
 definite had found utterance, and could only be unconsciously 
 expressed in the first gentle whisperings, which are, in fact, 
 not speech. And did not, in the same way, a vague feeling of 
 what was coming and what was in my heart steal into yours 
 before full consciousness came ? The first that became quite 
 clear to me. was, that our lives belonged to each other ; that I 
 could never give up the children and yourself; and that you 
 could never lean so confidently on any one as on me ; and 
 this I expressed to you, and then I felt that I had nothing 
 further to look for in life, that everything that I could wish 
 would be mine in full measure if tve were to each other all 
 that, with the full consent of our hearts, we might be ; and thus, 
 
112 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEK. 
 
 you see, that I truly imparted to you each feeling as it was 
 in me, and that full and entire love was already in my heart 
 and in yours, though it could only enter our consciousness 
 by degrees. Therefore, also, it is clear to me that our feel- 
 ings in regard to each other have come into existence in 
 a truly divine manner, working themselves forward from the 
 innermost depths of our being, attaching themselves by what 
 is highest in them to our entire existence, springing from no- 
 thing partial, and consequently neither one-sided nor waver- 
 ing. Why, therefore, should you not give yourself up freely 
 to the joy which this new revelation of God in you causes 
 you ? Your mind is fresh and young, and why should you 
 not enter life thus? Is it not this very youthful freshness 
 in you that I love? Is not this exactly what I require? Is it 
 not this which, during the whole course of our acquaintance, 
 has had a determining influence on us both? Think of it as 
 a sweet possession which we hold in common ; think of it 
 as mine as well as yours. Be ever willingly the youthful 
 mother of your dear children — the youthful, youth-imparting, 
 daughterly wife of your Ernst, your dear old father. 
 
 Dear, sweet Jette, I clasp you to my heart, and with the 
 tenderest caresses invoke a blessing upon you, that you may 
 ever retain this lovely freshness. Sorrow you no longer need; 
 Ehrenfried will no longer fail you. In the same measure as 
 we feel certain of our happiness, we rcmst feel certain of his 
 joy, and his joy must and ought to dispel your grief. But if 
 we were ever to cease to live with him, and to let him live 
 with us, then also we should cease to love each other with the 
 same love as now. But this cannot be; and, therefore, the 
 fluctuations which you so naturally experience will gra- 
 dually cease, and the past and the present will blend into 
 one. 
 
 What happiness it is to me, my dear, sweet life, that you 
 have such confidence in me in regard to the children also ! I 
 have the same; but try to feel that all this is not mine only, 
 but belongs to us in common. Eormerly I had no liking for 
 very young children, and did not in the least understand them. 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 113 
 
 It is only through our children that I have come to this ; and 
 the talent thus developed is to me part of our love, its first 
 sweet fruit, growing out of the peculiar happiness of becoming 
 at one and the same time lover and father. 
 
 You must now look upon yourself as fully initiated into my 
 entire life ; there is nothing in it which does not belong to you, 
 which you have not a right to share, and which it will not be 
 ;i gratification to me to open up to you. As to your not un- 
 derstanding, there is no fear of that, in regard to anything that 
 is essential to you. There is nothing in my life, or in what I 
 am striving for, the spirit of which you will not be able fully 
 to comprehend ; otherwise, indeed, you would not be able to 
 understand myself, and would not be fully mine. On the con- 
 trary, it is in the nature of things, that you will ever be the 
 first to understand, because you Avill be the one to whom my 
 whole life and my whole being will ever first and most imme- 
 diately reveal itself, and the will to vuiderstand will not be 
 wanting. I know you too well to fear that. It Avovdd, indeed, 
 grieve me should there ever be anything that was important 
 to me, which could not, in its essentials, have an interest for 
 you. But as regards matters of detail, and worldly affairs, 
 there others are in advance of you, and in relation to these 
 you must be guided and controlled by the amount of leisure 
 you can command, by your inclination, and by the natural bias 
 of your talents. 
 
 In what is at present occupying me and agitating me, you 
 must also take part; and should Henrietta Herz not have 
 communicated to you what I wrote in my last — which she 
 may not have done, because of her unwillingness to disturb 
 your first joy by anxieties — then request her to do so. I 
 depend upon your courage and upon your confidence in me. 
 I have no foreboding of danger, therefore be you also without 
 fear ; I shall tread no other path than that of my vocation, 
 and moderation and prudence neither fail me nor those who 
 are to direct my special undertakings. The part that I have 
 to play is worthy, beautiful, and blameless; and what can be 
 more gratifying than to feel that I am actively helping to direct 
 VOL. II. I 
 
114 LIFE OF SCHLEIEKMACHEE. 
 
 and prepare the state of things on which depends the happi- 
 ness of our lives ? Heaven grant that things may but take 
 such a course as to render possible the execution of what has 
 been planned, which ought not to be attempted except under 
 conditions that render failure almost impossible!* Pray that 
 God will guide me, bless me and protect me, as I pray that He 
 will strengthen your courage and your energies. Do every- 
 thing for yourself and the children for my sake, and be assured 
 that for your sake I will take proper care of myself, and that, 
 amid all occupations, cares, and labours, you will ever be in 
 me and with me. 
 
 One thing more. It may be that I shall have to go to 
 Königsberg. However, though I wish much that this may 
 take place, it is as yet uncertain. Longer than three weeks I 
 shall hardly be absent. Should I be obliged to start soon, 
 Nanni shall immediately inform you. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleier macher. 
 
 [cccv.] 22nd August. 
 
 My beloved Ernst, a thousand thanks for your dear 
 letters — but I am so full of anxiety. . . . Try to conceive 
 all that I would fain say to you — how dreadful I feel since I 
 can no longer look with undoubting certainty towards the ful- 
 filment of our sweet hope — how, in the midst of the most cheerful 
 anticipations and the sweetest dreams, I am startled by that 
 thought which opens such a wide field for the gloomiest fore- 
 bodings, to which I do not, as you know, abandon myself, but 
 which, nevertheless, make it impossible to go on picturing 
 to myself with certainty our future life. My beloved Ernst, 
 must you then do this ? Alas, if you feel that you must, then 
 I have nothing to say, then I dare not implore, dare not hold 
 you back, and then also I know that it would be of no avail to 
 attempt it. My dear, dear Ernst ! Ah, were I but near you 
 — I have never longed so much for this, as since I know that 
 you may be exposed to danger. Ah, what would I not share 
 * What undertakings are here alluded to, is not known. 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 115 
 
 ■with you ! and yet I am to share nothing, shall not even have 
 accounts of you. Oh, my Ernst, God grant that it may not 
 come to this — may a merciful Providence soon send a change! 
 However delightful it would be to be with you already, I 
 nevertheless find it quite natural, that it was not thus resolved 
 at the time, and indeed I do not know that I shovdd will- 
 ingly have consented, as there was then no question of neces- 
 sity, and it seemed probable that next spring we should be 
 able to begin our life in peace and quiet. Without some pre- 
 dominant reason, such as I admit that of a long period of 
 uncertainty is, but which you did not then foresee, I should 
 hardly have been willing to leave my relatives here so suddenly. 
 No, dear Ernst, I do not think that this very natural delay can 
 be considered a weakness on your part. You wanted to pre- 
 pare everything so nicely for our happy life, you dear love. 
 Though you may feel pained at my not being near you now 
 — as it also pains me — do not reproach yourself, you have no 
 reason to do so. My Ernst, your letter has not perplexed me, 
 for I also see but too clearly what you have not ventured 
 openly to express, and what, in spite of any heroism that I may 
 possess, is terrible for me to contemplate. . . . When I 
 reperuse your letters, I rejoice at every word from your heart 
 which assures me of your love. Yes, I am entirely yours. 
 Oh, dearest, endeavour to feel, as I do, how blessed I am at 
 this moment in the full certainty that you really love me, in 
 the holy and unbounded trust with which I give myself up 
 to you. I fancy myself seated beside you stroking your cheek 
 and kissing your dear forehead and eyes. Ah, and I cannot 
 believe that we are not really soon to be united. Yes, my 
 Ernst, nothing on my side shall prevent my being yours as 
 early as it may be possible. Write to me without delay, 
 and if you can, say sometlnng reassuring, but only in case 
 you really feel it yourself. 
 
 As punishment for my naughtiness, I will confess to you 
 that I had filled some sheets of paper for you, principally 
 with retrospective glimpses of my past life; but that I had 
 not the courage to send them out into the wide world to seek 
 
 12 
 
116 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHEE. 
 
 for you, nor did I like to keep them, so I have burnt them. 
 Forgive me, for I am already sufficiently punished by having 
 failed to impart to you what I would so willingly share with 
 you. How happy I have been since we met, I cannot 
 prove to you better, than by telling you that with me it is 
 always a proof of the presence of an unclouded, cheerful state 
 of mind when I sing much, and that of late I have been con- 
 stantly singing with all my heart, sacred melodies as well as 
 others. Upon the whole I am very brisk and lively after 
 my fashion, and have cut off some of my sleep, in the hope 
 that I shall at last get accustomed to need very little. Oh, 
 my beloved, if I may but make you truly happy! One hearty 
 kiss, and then good night ! 
 
 23rd. 
 This morning I am far more tranquil than last night. 
 It seems so unnatural to me to think of you surrounded by 
 danger; besides, on consideration, you write with so much 
 calm confidence about our living together, as you could not 
 possibly do, I think, were matters such as I imagined. My 
 Ernst, were I but safely and tranquilly in your arms, or even 
 if not safely and tranquilly, were I but with you ! Were it 
 not for the dear children, nothing should prevent me from 
 joining you, just because of the suffering we might have to go 
 through. As it is, however, I see that it is better that you 
 should stand alone, than that you should have double cares 
 upon you. 
 
 Farewell, my dearly beloved Ernst ; God protect you in all 
 that you undertake. Remember how my whole heart clings 
 to you. 
 
 [cccvi.] 2ith August. jJJ 
 
 My beloved Ernst, does it give you a little pleasure 
 to get a letter from me unexpectedly? The whole week 
 through I am longing for the day that is to bring me a 
 letter from you. I meant not to have written until next 
 post-day, but I long so to chat with you, that in spite of all 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 117 
 
 obstacles I am determined to do so. Do yon know how 
 I manage to live constantly with you in thought, and to 
 become ever more familiar with your mind ? I have been 
 reading once more your Monologues, and with renewed love 
 and renewed interest, now that the glorious soul that reveals 
 itself therein is mine. Oh, Ernst, dare I really say mine? 
 Is it really love that has made you mine ? Yes, my feeling 
 tells me that it is so, but my thought cannot comprehend it 
 when I consider what I am, and I am ready to weep bitter tears 
 at the emptiness of my mind and the poverty of my heart. I 
 see clearly what a woman should be, to be worthy of being 
 your wife ; but, alas ! not only do I feel myself far from this 
 perfection, but many of the traits in the picture have been 
 so utterly denied to me, that it would even be useless and 
 wrong in me to struggle to obtain them. 
 
 When I have a quiet hour to myself, I read one of your 
 sermons, and I cannot describe to you the pleasure which 
 I experience, when I find that that which you explain so 
 well and so beautifnlly, is entirely in accordance with the 
 views on the subject which I entertained previously — when I 
 see that I have found the truth for myself, and that through 
 you it becomes thoroughly clear to me. I read yesterday 
 the sermon : " The wholesome advice to possess as though we 
 did not possess." I did not know beforehand what it con- 
 tained, and how far it might be applicable to my state. It 
 has strengthened me very much, and has made me feel that 
 my love to you is of the right kind, and that even if it were 
 to cost my whole happiness and my fife, I coidd not wish 
 that you should do otherwise than your holy zeal impels 
 you to do. I have thought with anxiety that my former 
 letter might, perhaps, have seemed to you to convey a dif- 
 ferent feeling. But it was not so; I only meant to express 
 to you a solicitude which is not incompatible with joy in 
 you and in your noble undertaking. 
 
 Oh, my Ernst, how deeply do I feel that for no price would 
 I miss the least particle of the beauty of your soul ! How 
 happy it makes me to think of what a glorious being you 
 
118 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIER. 
 
 are ' Should the felicity really be reserved for 
 
 me, -when all suffering and danger lie behind us, and our 
 fatherland has been resuscitated, to live tranquilly at your 
 side, beloved by you and yours — oh ! my God, it will be 
 something unutterably great ! When the sweetness of such 
 a life appears before me in its small details, I feel as if I 
 could, indeed, make you happy, as if my love, the entire 
 devotion of my being, which will never wish for more than 
 to live for you and for the dear children, might bring joy 
 into your life. My dear little father, I press your hand to my 
 bosom and cover it with the tenderest kisses. 
 
 Do you know, dearest, what my relations accuse me of ? — 
 that I idealize my friends so much at first, that I must neces- 
 sarily in the end lower my tone a little, and thus cause them 
 pain. I do not believe it is so, dearest ; do you ? In refer- 
 ence to you, it is true no one ever said so. I confess that 
 the beautiful always affects me at first somewhat passionately; 
 but when that from which such an impression is received is 
 in truth beautiful, there is, I think, no reason to fear that the 
 love it inspires will be evanescent. There have been times, 
 for instance, when the intimate interchange of thought be- 
 tween myself and Lotte Käthen and P has ceased ; but I 
 
 always come round again. Nay, at times I do, indeed, even 
 grow cold towards my friends ; but I am conscious all the 
 while, that this is only a passing state, and in reality my 
 previous enthusiasm soon returns in all its pristine fresh- 
 ness 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cccvn.] Königsberg, 29th August. 
 
 Since Thursday evening I have been staying with 
 my excellent Wedike, who is the same in all his ways and 
 manners, in spite of the great change from a country life to 
 a town life, and his removal into a far wider sphere of activity. 
 The joy that he and his wife evinced when I arrived, drop- 
 ping down from the clouds as it were, you can hardly picture 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 119 
 
 to yourself. At first I was really painfully affected by it, 
 because it was so evident that they attributed my coming 
 entirely to the wish to see them, while I was conscious of 
 being brought hither by business which I should be obliged 
 to conceal from them, and which I must now manage to 
 transact as well as possible without awakening attention, 
 though it will take up much of my time. But as it cannot 
 be otherwise, I must leave matters as they are. Another 
 family from Halle, who had been participators in all the 
 misery there, was so rejoiced at seeing me again, that the 
 wife, contrary to her usual reserve, fell upon my neck, and 
 she and her daughter well nigh wept for joy. In addition 
 to these friends, I have seen the royal children, and to my 
 great delight have found them in good health and going on 
 well. I have also learnt to know some of the leading men, 
 on whom the hopes of my country rest, and I expect to have 
 a good deal of intercourse with them. But I ever return 
 with renewed pleasure to the home of my dear friends, and 
 thoroughly enjoy every quiet hour that I spend with them, 
 anticipating with delight, while witnessing their happy life, 
 what ours will be in future. In this house rules a spirit of 
 love, of cheerfulness, of calm contentment, of indifference to 
 the world in general, and of hearty friendliness towards every 
 one who draws nigh of himself — in short, it is a little heaven 
 on earth. To me this home-life appears even more complete 
 and more pleasing than formerly, now that Wedike has a 
 sphere of activity more suited to his capacities, and exer- 
 cises a greater influence on the world. But I think he is 
 not sufficiently interested in his vocation, and the heaven he 
 dreams of and longs for is still a kind of Arcadian life. How- 
 ever, this is only a tribute that he pays to his weakness and 
 to his want of interest in the great affairs of the world ; all 
 that he has to do, he, nevertheless, does well and ably, and 
 even with a relish, when the nature of his work will admit 
 of it. I shall hardly have an opportunity of hearing him 
 preach, which I much regret; it was not his turn yesterday, 
 and next Sunday the people want me to preach for him, which 
 
120 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 will give me no pleasure, except in as far as regards the court 
 and a few other persons 
 
 Do you know, my own Jette, that it seems to me an 
 eternity since I heard from you ? It is true it is only a fort- 
 night; but when such unwonted events take place, as this 
 journey is to me, and one is removed out of one's usual 
 sphere, time always seems long. I still continue to count the 
 Mondays, and to-day I have celebrated the sixth since I 
 entered upon a new life. This life came into being at the 
 moment that you placed your hand in mine ; but I also 
 recall to mind with heartfelt joy and gratitude the previous 
 happy moments, during which I revelled in the presentiment 
 of what was coming. The same composure, the same feeling 
 of security and of inward happiness which dwelt in my heart, 
 when I led you out of the summer-house and along the path 
 that day, and which would probably have prevented any one 
 from perceiving that something great and extraordinary had 
 just happened to me, still pervades my heart; and so, like- 
 wise, the same yearnings, the same passionate exultation, and 
 the same mournful remembrance of our dear departed, but also 
 the same happy consciousness of his approval and his blessing. 
 
 Darling child, here I witness daily what a glorious thing 
 wedded life is — a happiness with which no other can be 
 compared. And you will prepare this life for me, you will 
 bestow upon me the happiness I had long ceased to hope for. 
 I see my way so clearly through all the storms which may 
 perhaps beset us before the spring, that they do not cause me 
 even the slightest anxiety ; and you, my brave heart, I do 
 not doubt feel as I do. Heaven will be with us, as it is 
 in us and around us 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [cccviii.] No date. 
 
 . . . What a joy to receive your dear, glorious 
 letter ! But, seriously, I feel slightly hurt at your making 
 so little of my gratitude, though in doing this you would 
 
LOVE LETTEN S. 121 
 
 indeed be quite justified, had I meant it as you have under- 
 stood it. I do not remember having said that I felt great 
 gratitude towards you ; but that this feeling had been 
 absorbed in the one great sentiment of love, which has 
 made all that is yours mine, and all that is mine yours. 
 . . . . My Ernst, I never believed either, that you 
 concealed anything from me, or that there was anything 
 pre-calculatcd in your conduct. At the moment that 
 your manner spoke to me of real love, this love deve- 
 loped itself in me, and so it was at all times. My heart 
 ever re-echoed what was passing in thine ; and so it will 
 ever be. Oh, my Ernst, I am indescribably happy ! Yes, 
 truly, Ehrenfried will ever live with us and in us. How 
 often you remind me of him, even without calling up any 
 distinct thought of him, for his image, dear never-to-be- 
 forgotten man, lives deep in my heart. I am also quite 
 reassured now as to the happiness I feel, and give myself up 
 to it without restraint 
 
 [cccix.] Ath September. 
 
 Dear Ernst, so you are now really in Königsberg? 
 Believe me, I am quite alive to the grandeur of the thought 
 that our fate is so intimately linked with that of our country — I 
 feel myself great in you. My entire being is elevated through 
 you. Oh, dearest, how proud I am of you ! Jette is right 
 Avhen she says that even to perish in such an undertaking 
 is sublime. I would, therefore, wait calmly for the issue 
 without complaining, could I but say : " Where thou art, 
 there will I be ; and whithersoever thou goest, thither will 
 I go." But if that, which is too dreadful to think of, should 
 befall you, I should be obliged to continue to drag on a miser- 
 able existence: for could I follow you and leave the children 
 alone ? But why dwell on a thought that my mind shrinks 
 from ? God be with you, my Ernst, as my prayers are with 
 you. The consciousness that you are mine, that you love me, 
 makes me so happy, that it will enable me to bear a great 
 deal. My feelings are in a state of strange fermentation; the 
 
122 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIEE. 
 
 past is again drawing nearer to me, and all its memories are 
 awakening with renewed strength. You know how significant 
 to me is the 5th of September. I have again, as it were, 
 drawn closer to Ehrenfried ; I feel deeply that I could not 
 exist without keeping his image alive within me, without 
 keeping my remembrance of him ever fresh ; yes, how neces- 
 sary it is for my happiness that I should ever be sure of his 
 love and his approval. 
 
 I must confess to you that his image has not at all times 
 been thus interwoven with the feelings you have awakened in 
 me ; not unfrequently I have quite forgotten him, or a fleeting 
 thought of him has merely glanced through my mind, when I 
 have felt so indescribably happy in the present. But in 
 moments of cahn quietude I pray to him as to a patron saint, 
 and thus it is I live with him. It is not always, however, 
 that I enjoy such equanimity of feeling as at present, for 
 I am just now calmly happy in all my relations — in my 
 relation to Ehrenfried, to you, to my children, to my sisters 
 and brothers, and to my friends 
 
 [cccx.] IStJi September. 
 
 Dear Ernst, Ehrenfried's sisters and brothers all rejoice 
 sincerely in my happiness, and, indeed, how could they do 
 otherwise? and, yet, though not a soul has ever uttered any- 
 thing of the kind to me, I have often a vague fear that they 
 and his nearest friends must feel hurt and surprised at my 
 attaching myself to you so soon after his loss. Yea, some- 
 times even the doubt arises in me whether Ehrenfried him- 
 self, of whose approval I feel upon the whole so assured, and 
 who, I believe, looks down upon us with a blessing, might 
 not wish this to have been otherwise ; and why is it that I 
 cannot always feel free and happy, btit am oppressed, as if I 
 had not acted rightly? At this moment, however, I feel quite 
 happy, and press you with indescribable love to my heart. 
 Oh, Ernst, I often think that I love you even more than you 
 love me ; say, is it really so ? 
 
 Dearest, forgive my begging you, if you should ever find 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 123 
 
 anything in my letters -which you think deserves reproof, to 
 administer it as gently and in as kindly a tone as possible. 
 I am very sensitive, therefore promise me this. 
 
 14th September. 
 Dear Ernst, look upon that which I wrote last night 
 as nothing more than the product of a passing mood. To-day 
 I feel so light, and everything in me and around me is bright ; 
 but, nevertheless, I do not wish to withhold those pages from 
 you, for I want you to know everything in me, that which is 
 
 not good as well as that which is good The 
 
 transition from the previous delightful relation between us 
 to the still more intimate and tender one, was so imper- 
 ceptible that I could not say how or when the change took 
 place ; and, in reality, it is now, as before, filial love that I 
 feel for you, only infinitely increased. You may be right in 
 saying that it is out of filial love that I devote my life to you ; 
 but do not call it a sacrifice, for this love is in itself my highest 
 and my only happiness. 
 
 Although my joy in the happiness of the children by far 
 outweighs my joy in my own, I believe, nevertheless, that 
 no prudential considerations for their weal would have in- 
 duced me to lay my hand in yours, had not my whole heart 
 followed it. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cccxi.] Königsberg, 11th September, 1808. 
 
 Yes, my heart's own Jette, your last letter caused me 
 great and unexpected pleasure. You are indeed most kind 
 to have stolen the time for Avriting it, and to have written so 
 circumstantially about our little daughter. That I had not 
 misconstrued your former letter, you will by this time have 
 learnt from my last .... That which first drew my 
 heart towards you, four years ago, was the beautiful combi- 
 nation of sweetness and deep feeling with cheerful lighthead- 
 edness, strength, and courage. Could I but describe to you 
 
124 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEE. 
 
 what passed within me when I saw you for the first time at 
 Götemitz, and when we were strolling on the sea-shore at 
 Stubbenhammer. I felt such delight in you, and in your 
 love to Ehrenfried, that my whole being seemed absorbed in 
 it ; I attached myself to you in a peculiar manner, and with 
 a feeling that you belonged to me also, though in a very 
 different sense from that in which you belonged to Ehren- 
 fried. The tenderness which I felt for you was that of a 
 friend, a father, and yet no other love could have exceeded 
 this feeling in intensity ; and ever when I was most conscious 
 of my affection for you, it was your moral strength and 
 courage which stood most vividly before me, and in which I 
 rejoiced the most. And it was these qualities in you that 
 comforted me the most when I first heard of our dear Ehren- 
 fried's illness, and when I anticipated, and ultimately heard 
 of, his death. You were ever my own strong daughter, strong 
 in the Lord, and in the power of your noble life. In like 
 manner you are now my strong and courageous betrothed ; and 
 in your expressions I have seen naught but the utterances 
 of your love taken by surprise. I knew at once that your 
 courage would not fail you, and that you would soon recog- 
 nize that I could not act otherwise than I have done, and that 
 you would not wish to see me animated by different senti- 
 ments, or adopt any other principle of action. This it is 
 that makes you mine, entirely mine ; and it is because I am 
 what I am — because I take possession of a different side of 
 your nature from that which Ehrenfried's character and 
 career rendered it possible for him to touch — that you can love 
 me after him, as you do love me, sweet dear. 
 
 But now tell me, have you full confidence in my prudence 
 and my discretion? do you feel that, from what you know of 
 my actions in daily life, you can judge of how I will act on 
 more important occasions, and relative to greater under- 
 takings ? For if so, you must feel assured that I will not 
 foolishly or unnecessarily increase the dangers which I am 
 exposed to. You will require to have this assurance, dear 
 Jette ; but it seems to me that, if you will but think of my 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 125 
 
 love for you and for our little ones, you must feel certain that 
 this love alone would suffice to inspire me with the requisite 
 amount of prudence and circumspection. I have no mis- 
 givings ; and the coincidence between these outward circum- 
 stances and our union gives me a feeling of exultant happiness 
 which I cannot describe. Each acts upon the other, and 
 establishes the proper relation between the two. Were I not 
 able to carry through that in which I am now engaged, and 
 which 'I am so confident that I can carry through, I shoidd 
 not feel so certain that I had a right to claim you as my own, 
 to take possession of your entire existence and of your chil- 
 dren. And, on the other hand, were you not mine, I shoidd 
 not have felt so conscious of how true is my patriotism and 
 my courage. As it is, however, I know that I may place 
 myself on a level with whomsoever it may be, that I am 
 worthy of having a country I can call my own, and that I am 
 "worthy of being a husband and a father. Therefore, keep 
 alive courage and hope, my sweet pet, as I do, and rely upon 
 it, that that which does us inwardly so much good, will also 
 outwardly succeed. Be ever assured that I am not with- 
 holding anything from you, and that I will not fail to inform 
 you as soon as cause arises for well-founded alarm. 
 
 What I find more especially delicious in your letter is, that 
 no sooner have you made some strange assertion about your- 
 self, than by your own words you refute it : thus you tell me 
 about the poverty of your heart and mind, and of the riches of 
 mine, and yet, the next moment, you show me that all my 
 views were yours, even before I expressed them, though they 
 did not appear to you in so clear a light. Now, this is just 
 my vocation — to represent more clearly that which dwells in all 
 true human beings, and to bring it home to their consciousness. 
 But between you and me there must be greater agreement 
 than between me and others, because were not that Avherein 
 consists my real individuality familiar and perfectly compre- 
 hensible to you, you could not be mine as you are. Let it 
 then be so, and place yourself on a level with me, as it 
 beseems man and wife, and be perfectly assured that you 
 
126 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 make me surpassingly happy, and that your love satisfies all 
 my wishes and all my yearnings. This need not prevent you 
 from admiring in me that which belongs more especially to 
 man — the independent light of knowledge, and the controlling 
 and formative power ; just as I admire in you all that is most 
 peculiar to woman — the native and undimmed purity of feel- 
 ing, the self-sacrificing, tender, nurturing skill, that brings 
 forth and develops. And thus we shall ever be as one, and 
 will not inquire if or why the one is superior or inferior to 
 the other. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [cccxu.] Königsberg, lhth September, 1808. 
 
 Dearest, best of friends, it is, in fact, not very long 
 since I parted from you ; yet it seems to me a little eternity, 
 and I feel painfully the almost total silence that has been main- 
 tained between us during this interval. You know, indeed, how 
 I am getting on, as, upon the whole, I also know how your life 
 proceeds ; but it was such a delight to me, when with you, to 
 sit on the sofa, and have an hour's cozy chat with you alone, 
 that it has become quite a necessity to me to renew these 
 conversations from time to time. If you can find leisure, do 
 pour out your heart a little to me. As yet, you have not, 
 perhaps, got through the bustle of the harvest. I do not 
 know how it has turned out ; but I hope that Kathen's and 
 your own joy at the new blessing promised to you, will make 
 every burden and trouble light. However, I remember that 
 you have told me that you are seldom in good spirits during 
 these periods, and this makes me anxious. I envy our friend 
 
 and L the sweet privilege of helping you to bear and 
 
 endeavouring to cheer you, and most sincerely wish that I 
 could share in it. And when I then think that the time 
 will soon come when I may experience these joys and devote 
 myself to these cares in my own home, in connection with 
 my beloved Jette, dearest sister, I cannot tell you in what 
 an atmosphere of rapture and hope I live, and I can feel 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 127 
 
 naught but this, though I know that fearful storms may arise 
 before I am able to run into port. At all times I see the 
 sweet happiness before my eyes, and feel it in my heart, and 
 it is to me as if I must pour out my inward joy and bliss on 
 every one who knows of it, or who ought to know of it. 
 Dearest Lotte, pray keep up your spirits, and, when you feel 
 depressed, inspire some draughts of our atmosphere of hope, 
 and place before your eyes the picture of my happiness and 
 that of your beloved sister, and refresh yourself with the 
 sight. 
 
 In as far as regards my impatience — for I plead guilty 
 to a certain amount of this — the change caused by my 
 journey hither has been a relief ; but, on the other hand, I 
 regret that the increase of power and energy, which I feel 
 within myself, should not at once be brought to bear on some 
 regular sphere of activity. I have some hope that my coming 
 hither may prove of advantage to you also. A young man, 
 who, during the period of his academical studies, was an in- 
 mate in the family of my friend Wedike, seems not disinclined 
 to join you. 
 
 About my remembrance of the delightful time I spent in 
 Eugen, and how I thank God for what He allowed me to find 
 there, I shall say nothing. I become daily more familiar with 
 the thought of my happiness, and everything and everybody 
 that is connected with it becomes dearer to me, and all are 
 welded together in my heart into one inseparable whole. In 
 like measure as I long for Jette, I long for the sweet children 
 and for the paternal life I shall lead with them. Not a shadow 
 of fear or misgiving dims my joy, but, on the contrary, I look 
 forward with the greatest confidence to next spring as the 
 unfailing commencement of my true life. God be with you, 
 dear Lotte ! Let me soon have a few cheering lines from you. 
 
128 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [cccxiii.] ISth September. 
 
 My heartiest thanks for your letter of the 5th. Ah, 
 if you but knew what joy these letters are to me — how I 
 dwell upon each word of endearment — how I feel your love — 
 how it thrills through me even as if you were sitting by my 
 side! My sweet Ernst, with what devotion I cling to you, 
 and how my being is stirred when it comes home to me so 
 forcibly how truly you love me! I never doubted it, and 
 yet it is as if each day brought me greater certainty. 
 
 How is it that each time I write to you, I seem to love you 
 better, and to want to address you in new terms of endear- 
 ment, and yet I can find none ? For my heart is already so 
 entirely thine, that it has nothing more to give. But I know 
 that when we meet again, I shall be able to interchange 
 thought and feeling more freely with you than when you were 
 here last. How delightful it is that love's sweet action can 
 continue so undisturbed, even from afar! 
 
 Dear Ernst, how gloriously all the ideals which I dreamt 
 of in early youth have been realized, and even more than 
 realized! How often I used to think, Is it, then, not possible 
 that life might be as beautiful as I figured it to myself? 
 Now I know that it can be so. Happy, most happy, my life 
 was already with my clear Ehrenfried ; but with you, it will 
 be richer still in beauty. To you, I may say this; for you 
 know how truly attached I was to the never-to-be-forgotten 
 departed, and how I still cling to his memory. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cccxiv.] Königsberg, 18th September, 1808. 
 
 . . . . I was a changed being directly after the 
 receipt of your unhoped-for letter. Fresh life and glad- 
 ness streamed through me; for it is a glorious tiling to get 
 a letter from you, my darling Jette. If it were possible, I 
 might say, that every word that you utter makes you dearer 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 129 
 
 to me; but I knew beforehand that 3011 would soon learn to 
 regard our whole position with more composure, as, altogether, 
 there is nothing that may occur in our future life, in respect 
 t" which I do not confidently anticipate that you will ever do, 
 and be, what is right and good. But to see the reality face 
 to face, in addition to this inward knowledge, this firm faith, 
 what mure can life bestow ? 
 
 It is hardly possible, dear child, that a human being can 
 at all times live consciously in that state of happy balance 
 of mind that arises occasionally when his whole nature is 
 powerfully stirred, and each relation of his life is felt and 
 enjoyed; these are exceptional moments, during which heaven 
 indwells in the heart, and time embraces eternity; but it 
 has given me great satisfaction to find that you can confess, 
 without any sign of dissatisfaction, that you are not always 
 in this state of equipoise. I trust that your fits of discontent 
 ■with yourself will become of ever rarer recurrence, and that 
 you will ultimately cease to feel disheartened in reference to 
 what you desire to be, and ought to be, in the happy future. 
 
 This reminds me of what might, in fact, cause me some 
 discouragement. I mean what the others say about your 
 tendency to idealize yonr friends; for if they do not accuse 
 you of it in reference to me, this is only because in this ease 
 they are themselves labouring under the same malady. This 
 is owing to the Monologues, in which I idealized myself, and 
 now the kind creatures think that I am in reality what I 
 therein represent myself to be. And, in fact, so I am; for 
 what 1 express in that book, are my inncmiost sentiments, 
 my true spirit. But the innermost being is never clearly 
 manifested in phenomenal life, but always appears veiled in 
 obscurity in this imperfect world ; when as this obscuration 
 is not reproduced in the Monologues. Therefore, pray beg 
 Henrietta J biz to tell you all the evil she can about me — 
 she knows a good deal, and has suffered under it — and then 
 reflect, that you will have to bear it all. I am telling you this 
 so honestly, as it appears; and yet not only sincerity, but also 
 the vanity, or rather the flattering hope of love is concealed 
 
 YOL. II. K 
 
130 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 "behind it. The fact is, I imagine, that after all, you will not 
 think it so bad ; and that you will see that your love and our 
 marriage will be the very best means for working out and 
 bringing forth my true nature in an ever purer form. Should 
 you, therefore, in reality find that I am not so bad as Hen- 
 rietta Herz depicts me, Avhen she is very eloquent on my 
 odious qualities, then look upon the improvement as your 
 work. For the rest, I must tell you that I never heard any 
 complaint of your tendency to idealize, though I have heard 
 something about your tendency, when your heart is full of 
 one friend, to forget and abandon another. But I have 
 always felt just as assured that this was only an appearance, 
 only an evanescent mood, as you expressed yourself to be when 
 you wrote to me about it recently. It is just the same as with 
 the various occupations which we are called upon to attend to 
 in fife, and which we really do attend to, though at one time 
 we take very energetically hold of one, and then pass on to 
 another, without, therefore, having forgotten or abandoned the 
 previous one. 
 
 [cccxv.] Berlin., 1st October, 1808. 
 
 Here I am again since yesterday morning, dearest 
 Jette, having already rested well after the fatiguing journey, 
 having provisionally communicated with my friends, and 
 having feasted on the letters which I found awaiting my 
 return. Yes, verily, the life of love goes on fresh and un- 
 disturbed in spite of distance ; it breathes its own ever new 
 life into the dead letter, and imparts light and colour to it. 
 How vividly you stand before me, while I am reading your 
 letters ; I see you playing with the dear children, and every 
 word recalls to me your sweet voice, which thrilled through 
 me in so peculiar a manner the very first time I heard it. 
 Yes, verily, ours will be a glorious life ; my greatest trouble 
 is, that I mast in full earnest begin to break myself of the 
 laziness, which is one of my principal vices; how shall I 
 otherwise find time to enjoy all that there will be to enjoy, 
 and to do all that there will be to do ! For if my dreams 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 131 
 
 and my presentiments do not prove false, a very active, and 
 I trust, -with God's help, a very useful life lies before me. 
 And you will enter into it all, will share in it all, and what- 
 ever I effect will be your work. Yes, from this point of view, 
 my beloved, it may be that your new life will be even richer 
 than your former life. Do you feel distinctly, are you quite 
 conscious of how entirely you enter into all my being and 
 doing ? In every relation in life I stand forward at present 
 with greater freedom and with greater power. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [cccxvi.] Zrd October. 
 
 Oh, dear Ernst, how much delight you have bestowed 
 upon me ! no less than two dear, sweet letters I have from 
 you. I suppose Jette has before this written to you about 
 the enclosure which was added to one of your letters ; and 
 probably she has also told you that all my letters have arrived 
 cut open, but that none have come open by chance, and that 
 no one, except Jette and myself, is acquainted with your 
 secret. Dear Ernst, upon the whole I am tranquil, and always 
 full of unbounded confidence in you in every respect. But 
 you may conceive how very easily even an insignificant circum- 
 stance upsets this tranquillity. However, I thank you heartily 
 for not concealing anything from me ; for it is an inexpres- 
 sible comfort to me to know everything concerning you . . 
 
 I feel -with you how much satisfaction you must derive 
 from the extensive sphere of your activity, more especially as 
 you are so confident of success. I am now so closely bound to 
 you, that everything that moves you goes over into my being 
 also. The intensified feeling of life, awakened in you by the 
 consciousness of the greatness of the results which you will, 
 in some measure, be instrumental in bringing about, reacts 
 upon me, and I feel myself of greater significance. Oh, my 
 Ernst ! now that you love me, and that I am one with you, I 
 am so proud, and feel myself of so much importance, in spite 
 
 K 2 
 
132 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 of the deep humility which still dwells in me, and which I 
 never can or ought to renounce. 
 
 I had still a kind of vague feeling, as if it were not so 
 much that you were thoroughly happy through me, as that 
 you desired to make me and the children happy ; but now 
 your dear letters have given me the blissful assurance that 
 you really love me with all your heart. This feeling is too 
 delightful ! See, during the whole of our acquaintance I have 
 ever felt as if I ought not to attribute to myself the peculiar 
 love which you bore to me, for that it was in reality the 
 beautiful relations and circumstances amid which I lived, and 
 which you longed to behold, that attracted you towards me. 
 I never could believe that my simple self could be so dear 
 and so interesting to you 
 
 Yes, my Ernst, most Avillingly would I have been at your 
 side during the period of tumult and danger, and I felt it a 
 privation not to share all with you. But as this cannot 
 be, let us wait patiently for the time when you will be able 
 to make the necessary arrangements without exerting your- 
 self overmuch, and be assured that the sweet hope in my 
 heart restrains all impatience, and that, though parted from 
 you, I shall feel cpvite content here, while I live through 
 your life with you, and enjoy in advance all the delights of 
 the future. Do not understand what I have said as arising 
 out of anxiety lest you might be imprudent in this respect, 
 but merely out of the desire that you should not exert your- 
 self to hasten our union more than you would otherwise have 
 done, because of the longing I expressed. I would not have 
 written this, had I not promised my sympathizing sisters to 
 advise you not to do anything precipitately. I, for my part, 
 know how unnecessary this is, and there is not a thing regard- 
 ing which I have not the most unbounded confidence in your 
 prudence and your judgment. 
 
 [cccxvn.] 7th October. 
 
 . . . . How Jette and I have laughed at your 
 odious qualities, with which she was to make me acquainted ! 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 133 
 
 As yet I have not been able to get anything out of her, and if it 
 be nothing more than what I have sometimes heard others com- 
 plain of, namely, your quickness of temper and the short way 
 in which you answer when any one says anything that you 
 disapprove of, I look upon this as one of my little delights ; 
 for in real earnest you never can be angry with me, and in 
 real earnest I can never be hurt by what you say, but I shall 
 pretend to be so, and then will follow a reconciliation in the 
 
 grandest style, and that will be delicious 
 
 I often think of Eleanore with deep emotion. The thought 
 that your Avhole heart was given to her moves me strangely, 
 and you will readily believe that everything which at that time 
 constituted your deepest life, and filled your whole soul, is very 
 sacred to me. It sometimes occurs to me that you must feel 
 that the happiness which you look forward to in union with me 
 cannot be so great as that which you woidd have enjoyed had 
 she become yours at that time ; and though it would be a far 
 greater delight to me had you not this feeling, nevertheless, 
 should it in reality exist, it will not distress me. I do not 
 know how it is, but I have a firm conviction, which makes 
 me thoroughly happy, that at present no one is nearer and 
 dearer to you than I am. I feel as if Eleanore would not 
 have belonged more entirely to you than I do, but you loved 
 her with the fire of youth, and with an ardent desire to 
 save her. 
 
 [cccxvm.] 17th October. 
 
 . . . . I cannot express to you what pleasure 
 you give me by what you say of your love for the children. 
 Oh, I can quite conceive it, for I feel how I should love your 
 child, had you one — and how I love our children, more espe- 
 cially because they are Ehrenfried's, and because in them only 
 he still lives to us ! What a felicity that you are to be 
 their lather ! but how can you speak of thankfulness towards 
 me ? what shall I, then, do with all the thanks with which 
 my heart is overflowing, and which you refuse to accept? 
 
134 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEK. 
 
 . . . . Oh, Ernst, what overwhelming maternal anxieties 
 I should feel, were it not for yon ! 
 
 It is so delightful to hear you say that I already contribute 
 my share to all that is beautiful and excellent that emanates 
 from you, and I take it quietly, feeling that I can accept it in 
 all humility and without contradiction, because it is not to 
 me personally that it is owing, but to that which is really 
 divine in our love. Yes, Ernst, I will take a deep interest 
 in everything that occupies you as soon as I am able to 
 comprehend it. 
 
 I received yesterday a few very hearty lines from Hermann 
 Baier. He said that he coidd not return the greeting I had sent 
 him through his mother, Avithout a feeling of reverence for the 
 providential manner in which my life had been guided, and 
 that the serenity and composure which had borne me through 
 all my trials must have been more than what the world calls 
 faith and prayer. Dear Ernst, I do not exactly understand 
 what he means by more than faith and prayer. Does it not 
 seem as if he were speaking of an immediate working of God 
 in the soul, of strength and tranqxiillity given, not in the 
 manner in which they are given to every pious, yearning 
 soul, but as if actually let down into the heart from on high ? 
 Perhaps what I am saying is somewhat confused, but I am 
 determined not to be diffident any more in speaking to you. 
 Do tell me if you think he can have meant that, and if you 
 also believe in such workings of grace, not as a general benefit 
 open to all, but as a special gift bestowed upon a few? .... 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [cccxix.] Berlin, 20th October, 1808. 
 
 Dearest Lotte, just as you picture to yourself my life, 
 happy and beautiful as it Avill be in future, without the dis- 
 tance in time impeding you, so also, I believe, I can take a 
 correct view of yours, without being misled by the fluc- 
 tuations which occur in it. I fully understand that these 
 have in reality their immediate source in your nature and 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 135 
 
 in your position, and I agree with the opinion that, although 
 the evil may be mitigated, it cannot be cured. But for this 
 very reason, dear Lotte (I am sure you will not misconstrue 
 -what I am about to say), although I sincerely sympathize 
 in all your pains and troubles, I have never, in thinking of 
 you, said to myself, " poor Lotte," except in regard to those 
 matters which might really be improved, and which, I believe, 
 you have now improved, as you have given the care of your 
 house-keeping into other hands. "When we subtract these 
 and other such cares, dear friend, you are to me with all your 
 woes — of which, indeed, a sufficient number remain — a new 
 proof of the fact, which I have often observed in general, and 
 which is constantly being confirmed by special experiences, 
 that the fate of each individual, when we take a compre- 
 hensive view of it, is in immediate harmonious relation with 
 his inner, most individual being ; and I should not, therefore, 
 wish it to be otherwise in your case. To all those Avho arc 
 capable of understanding you, your entire nature develops 
 itself most beautifully in the position in which you are placed, 
 and I, for instance, can very well imagine you placed in 
 different circumstances in which I should not have learnt to 
 know you so thoroughly as I do now. But, above all things, 
 do not lose patience, more particularly not with yourself, and 
 begin as early as possible to carry out your prudent reso- 
 lution to spare yourself. 
 
 About myself I have nothing to tell you, except that I am 
 full of joy and happiness. I feel every day more and more 
 what felicity is mine now, and will be mine in future ; and in 
 regard to all outward matters, I entertain the most perfect con- 
 fidence and trust. I have never complained : as soon as I had 
 recovered from the first heavy blow, I felt, thanks to all you 
 dear ones, that my life was still very rich in blessings ; but 
 what were they compared to what I now possess! And how 
 many times multiplied is not my present happiness, by the 
 satisfaction with which it is regarded by all who love us. 
 Yet when I think of all that I ought to do, all that may be 
 expected of me, now that a happiness has been bestowed upon 
 
136 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIER. 
 
 me, so far beyond my deserts, and so much greater than I 
 had ever hoped for, then, indeed, I am a little alarmed. But 
 not much : for, in reality, I feel more vigorous and energetic 
 than ever, and it seems to me that everything I undertake 
 must succeed. To think that it is already a quarter of a year 
 since, and that another half year must still elapse ! Since this 
 new epoch in my lifetime seems to fly doubly as quick as 
 before, and I can quite fancy that when Jette and I have 
 grown old and gray, we will still feel as if only a few days 
 had gone by. Dear, precious sister, you will derive much joy 
 from witnessing our life, not only in case, as I look forward 
 to with confiding faith, God showers blessings and grace upon 
 us, but also, should life now and then turn its shadowy side 
 towards us. Care and sorrow also belong to life. Indeed, 
 did I not begin by giving Jette anxiety ? Causeless anxiety, 
 it is true, but it was delightful to see how she bore it ; and 
 now I know as well as if Ave had lived through all kinds of 
 troubles together, what she will be to me in every trial and 
 every emergency You have, by this time, pro- 
 vided well for all your elder children, dear friend; that is 
 capital ! and you may now give yourself up the more freely 
 to the little ones. Regards to your whole house, from your 
 
 Schleier. 
 
 Schleiermaclier to Henrietta Herz. 
 
 [cccxx.] Berlin, 20th October, 1808. 
 
 . The little excursion proved very pleasant, 
 though undertaken without the ladies. At first Reimer and 
 I determined to go on foot ; but as a Mr. Von Liitzow, a 
 friend of Fritz Dohna, and a delightful man, joined our party, 
 and he had luggage with him, which we could not possibly 
 carry with us when on foot, we took a carriage. Steffens and 
 Blanc we met in Dessaii already, and you may suppose that 
 our joy was great. Steffens was more lively and in better 
 health than he had been for a long while, and he had left his 
 wife and child in equally good health. We were just the i 
 
LOVE LETTERS. l.°>7 
 
 same to eacli otlicv as ever, and rejoiced at the prospect of 
 living near each other in future, and talked over all that we 
 ■would do if necessary, to promote the plan. We spent a whole 
 day very pleasantly in Worlitz, though it rained : on the way 
 thither I told Steffens about Jettchen. You know him, and 
 can therefore picture to yourself his heartfelt satisfaction. He 
 also thought that it was the happiest thing that could have 
 befallen me, and that it had come about just in the right, 
 Avay. We traversed the garden in all directions, and in spite 
 of the rain, we much regretted that we had not all those that 
 Ave loved gathered together in that beautiful spot. Liitzow, 
 who had business to transact with the hereditary prince, and 
 also other matters to attend to, could not be with us the 
 whole time, but, to my great delight, he has fallen over head 
 and ears in love with »Steffens. We could get no private car- 
 riage to take lis back again, and I did not venture to under- 
 take the journey on foot in the bad weather, as I was to preach 
 early on Sunday morning, and under the most favourable cir- 
 cumstances, we could not in that Avay reach home until late on 
 Saturday evening. We Avere in consequence obliged to travel 
 post in an open caleche, and during a very cold night. From 
 Potsdam we contimied the Avay on foot, in order to get our- 
 selves Avarm again, and thus Ave arrived half a day earlier 
 than Ave had expected. Poor Nanni had looked forward Avith 
 great pleasure to this journey, yet she bore the disappoint- 
 ment beautifully. I am pleased to find that she has made 
 so much progress in your affection ; she is in truth develop- 
 ing herself more satisfactorily every day, and her inner 
 being Avould certainly never have been brought out in this 
 Av;iy in Pless. We get on admirably together, but more 
 especially since our visit to Rügen, Avhich has giA r en a new 
 impetus, as it were, to everything that is good and beau- 
 tiful But tell me, my most precious old lady, 
 
 is it not also owing to Jettchen, and because since my engage- 
 ment to her I have been taken more especially into your good 
 graces, that you A'alue my odious qualities so A r ery lightly ? 
 Have you forgotten the black looks which you all used to 
 
138 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEK. 
 
 accuse me of, and my levity in regard to economical matters, 
 and many other defects ? But now let me read you a lesson, 
 dear Jette, in reference to what I find very strange, namely, that 
 you should think that I was doing you injustice, when I said 
 that you discerned my foibles more clearly than any one else. 
 Must not the most intimate friendship lead to the most inti- 
 mate knowledge, and is it not one of its great advantages, 
 that a friend loves a friend with all his faults, whereas by 
 others he may be loved merely because the faults have not 
 been discovered? What a strange impression it makes upon 
 me, dear Jette, to hear you call me great, I cannot describe. 
 You know that I hate so-called modesty, and that I know 
 pretty well what I am worth ; but greatness I must confess I 
 cannot discover in myself. .... 
 
 I wonder whether I shall show any talent for educating 
 children — I, who know not in the least how to educate myself 
 or to make anything out of myself ! I trust exclusively in 
 God and in love, which are but one. Yes, if God keeps His 
 promise in regard to me also, and gives me understanding 
 with the office, the children will be the joy of our lives — 
 these children — and, perhaps, others. Shall I confess to you, 
 dear Jette, that I cannot get rid of the strange presentiment 
 that I shall never have other children than these? A thou- 
 sand times I have repeated to myself that this presentiment 
 originates in my old habit of looking upon my union with 
 Eleanore as one that would be childless. A hundred times 
 I have laughed at nryself for entertaining it, and yet I cannot 
 get rid of it. Can you picture to yourself a little Schleier- 
 macher? Sometimes when I succeed in doing so, I am ready 
 to go crazy with joy. 
 
 Sclileiermacher to Henriette von WillicJu 
 
 [cccxxi.] Berlin, 22nd October, 1808. 
 
 It is rather late, yet I must chat away the midnight 
 hour with you. Scold you I Avill not ; indeed, I feel more in- 
 clined to tell you, that Avere it possible, your last two letters 
 
LOVE LETTERS. I 39 
 
 would have made you even dearer to me than before, because 
 of the beautiful manner in which you have given expression 
 to the essential nature of love, and have shown how the 
 greatest and the smallest, the most solemn earnestness and the 
 sweetest sportiveness, are therein blended ; and how each 
 mood-the devout, and the pious, and the self-devoted, in 
 which one would willingly encounter death for the other, or 
 both would willingly die together— bears at the same time in 
 itself the full consciousness of all the sweet delights that have 
 been enjoyed during the brightest and most light-hearted 
 moments of life ; just as, during the latter, we feel with un- 
 mixed earnestness all the energy, the fulness, and the depth 
 of existence. Yet after all, my glorious Jette, there is no 
 truth in this havins made you dearer to me, for I always 
 knew that these feelings dwelt in you. Nevertheless, each 
 new revelation of your life is to me a new addition to my life, 
 my joy and my happiness ; and the same, I trust, you will 
 feel as regards me, only in a different way. Do not, there- 
 fore, imagine that our blessed married life is to be all in all 
 to you, but that it cannot be so to vie, because science also 
 has claims upon me. Herein you are quite mistaken. My 
 life, in connection with science and with the Church, and, if 
 God gives His blessing, as I trust He will, also in connection 
 with the State, must not be separated from your life or be 
 foreign to you; but you will and ought to take the greatest 
 interest in it. Where this is not the case there is no true mar- 
 riage. This will not, however, necessitate your understanding 
 all°the sciences and the terms belonging to them; but my en- 
 deavours and the results of them you will always be able not 
 only to witness and to understand, but also to share in, so that 
 it may be said that nothing has succeeded without you, nothing 
 has been completed without you, that you have borne your 
 part in all that I have accomplished ; and thus you will be 
 able to rejoice at my activity in the world as if it were your 
 own. You will witness and feel, how at times I am more, 
 and at others less, successful ; how sometimes thoughts well 
 forth in abundance; how, at other periods, indolence holds 
 
140 LIFE OF SCHLEIEEMACIIEK. 
 
 me spell-bound. You will quicken and refresh my slum- 
 bering soul, and I will let it flow into yours and fill you with 
 its abundance. For this reason, I should be much pleased 
 if I could manage to have my study and your sitting-room 
 contiguous and communicating by a door, so that we could 
 always be near to each other. 
 
 Shall I begin from the present to give you from time to 
 time an account of what I am doing ? At this moment matters 
 are proceeding rather irregularly ; on one side I get on pretty 
 well ; on another, very badly. I have just finished the trans- 
 lation of a dialogue in Plato, and am engaged in revising it, 
 and in smoothing and polishing particular passages. This is 
 a wretched business ; for I seem to have worked with less 
 attention than usual, chiefly because of the many inter- 
 ruptions that occurred, and which prevented me from keeping 
 the preceding parts sufficiently clearly before me. And now 
 the correction goes on very slowly, because I find it so tire- 
 some, and I must take care not to sit at it too long at a time, 
 lest I should do the work negligently. This arises from the 
 fact that I have never known, and never shall know, how to 
 exert myself as energetically as other people in my position 
 do. In addition to this, I feel at present specially called upon 
 to elucidate and complete for my own satisfaction my thoughts 
 and views relative to the state and the social community in 
 general. These thoughts are, therefore, for ever commingling 
 with my other occupations, and give me a glorious conscious- 
 ness of life and productiveness. I also feel a strong inward 
 inducement to deliver lectures upon this subject ; this is 
 always my first resource ; for in so doing, the entire matter 
 presents itself most distinctly before me, and gradually works 
 itself out ; and I will, therefore, make arrangements to com- 
 mence the lectures in three or four weeks. Then I shall 
 be again in such full activity in the cathedra as I delight in, 
 and you will see how well I shall get on. As yet I have 
 only preached here once, but in future I believe I shall do 
 so more frequently I have a strong presenti- 
 ment that I shall remain in this place ; and. under such con- 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 141 
 
 ditions as I expect soon to see established, I should much 
 prefer it. I picture everything to myself in very rosy 
 colours, though I will not deny that I can imagine something 
 more delightful still ; but, perhaps, that also Avill come by-and- 
 by. . . . 
 
 I dare say Hermann Baier meant no more by what he wrote 
 to you, than that it was something higher than what the world 
 calls faith and prayer ; for can there be anything higher than 
 true faith and prayer ? It is true the divine dwells in man in 
 very various ways ; in some individuals it manifests itself 
 more spontaneously and energetically than in others ; and even 
 in its highest and most glorious manifestations it appears very 
 differently under different circumstances, sometimes rather as 
 induced, at other times more as immediately given ; but even 
 that which is immediately given must always be based upon 
 what the individual has spontaneously created in himself; it is 
 the blessing that attends faith and prayer. Everything divine is 
 the common good of all mankind ; but to some it comes through 
 others, and to all it comes at one time differently from another. 
 Any other distinction I do not know. But we will speak a 
 good deal about these matters on future occasions, my sweet 
 daughter, and your father will explain to you as much as he 
 himself knows and feels. 
 
 Have you given Hermann Baier a very friendly message 
 from me? I cannot tell you how much I like him. He 
 pleases me very much, and I have taken him completely into 
 my heart. I do not know whether he feels the same towards 
 me; but .never mind, a little fond of me, I dare say he is, and 
 I look forward with great pleasure to a letter from him, if he 
 
 will be true to his word. In regard to dear old Mrs. B , 
 
 I have no doubt you will know how to take my place, for you 
 are aware of how much I love and honour her. The bond 
 that exists between us is a peculiar one, and has been knit 
 without our having interchanged many words ; I might almost 
 say there is something inexplicable and mysterious in it. . . . 
 
 I am at present full of hope, feeling as if it would be given 
 to me to effect a great deal, and as if my outward life also 
 
42 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEE. 
 
 ■would be full of pleasantness and sweetness. This is, because 
 I believe that with you I shall obtain every blessing that 
 Heaven can bestow upon me, and because I cannot picture to 
 myself your sweet nature and my life with you, as in any way 
 troubled. Sweet heart, how I shall dote upon you, how I shall 
 carry you on my hands, and yet, how full of earnestness our 
 life shall be ! Do you not also think, dear Jette — I am proud 
 to think so — that never have children been given into the 
 hands of a second father with greater confidence and more 
 sincere joy ? Oh, how happy I am through you ! how beau- 
 tifully the whole of our new life is based upon love and friend- 
 ship ! And Ehrenfried's love and friendship are its first and 
 firmest foundation. 
 
 A short while ago I passed a hearse; and all at once I 
 thought of my own funeral. In imagination I saw you once 
 more as a widow ; but I was not distressed ; I felt more 
 vividly than ever the hearty sympathy of my many excellent 
 friends. I knew that you would have the consciousness of 
 having made me thoroughly happy, and that I had fallen 
 asleep satiated with all the good that earth can bestow, and I 
 knew that this feeling would comfort you. It seemed to me that 
 though sad, you must feel inwardly rich and content, while 
 possessing the memory and the many mementos of the happy 
 life we had led together. Have you not also thought of death, 
 since our engagement, and in the same way ? . . . . 
 
 [cccxxii.] Berlin, 29th October, 1808. 
 
 Dearest Jette, I have just been reperusing some of your 
 letters. Tea was over, I had read a couple of songs of the 
 Iliad to Nanni; and in what more delightful manner coiüd I 
 conclude the week ? Strange to say, on this reperusal several 
 of the passages seemed to me quite new : how can this be, as 
 I have certainly never been guilty of overlooking anything in 
 your letters ? It is true, that the same happens to me in regard 
 to the books I like the best ; each time I read them over again 
 the chief impression which I receive is determined by some 
 special passage or other, and the rest remains as it were in 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 143 
 
 the background. I had thus quite forgotten that at one time, 
 poor child, you were troubled by bad dreams about me. . . . 
 Dreaming is a pleasure which I hardly know ; it is as if I had 
 barely vivacity and fancy enough for my waking life, and must 
 not therefore draw upon the store when asleep. I ever fall 
 asleep with your sweet image in my mind, but in dreams it 
 does not appear to me ; however, as soon as I awake I find it 
 there again. I was also struck by what you wrote about your 
 different states of mind, during the periods when you bore 
 your children under your heart. No doubt the ruling state 
 of mind of the mother, and the peculiar disposition which is 
 being formed in the child, must in a great measure be identical, 
 and herein, partly, lies the truth of the idea of hereditary sin, 
 which for this very reason is made to descend originally from 
 the mother and not from the father : but of criminality and 
 blame there can hardly be a question in any case, and at all 
 events in yours most certainly not. For consider, it is as yet 
 by no means determined whether it is not as much the nature 
 that is being formed in the child which is the cause of the 
 mood of the mother, as the latter, that is the cause of the 
 former. These moods seem sometimes quite foreign to the 
 mother's nature, or at least mental conditions which have 
 appeared very rarely and very vaguely, assume suddenly a 
 predominant character — or a state of mind which had not 
 been experienced for years and had been quite forgotten, sud- 
 denly reappears. A woman in this condition is placed, in a 
 very immediate manner, under the sway and the care of in- 
 finitely plastic nature. Nature cannot indeed oppose her free- 
 dom, can force nothing upon her which is in reality foreign to 
 her ; but, during this period, it rules with wonderful power 
 over the combinations and relations between the various ener- 
 gies and tendencies, and probably little more is left to the 
 mother than to introduce, as it were, a genial temperature 
 into the state that has been assigned to her, and to keep pure 
 the note that has been struck, and carry it through harmo- 
 niously by the aid of reason. Thus from the very beginning 
 self-culture and education are identical, and in regard to 
 
144 LIFE OF SCTILEIERMACHEE. 
 
 neither is it ever permitted to use force ; thus from the very 
 commencement, energetic reciprocal action is established, in 
 which each part has but to observe itself exclusively, and for 
 the rest to let holy nature rule. 
 
 Shall I tell you in what light your special case appears 
 to me ? If you were in reality so violent and self-willed a 
 child as you describe, you must be resigned if it has pleased 
 nature to develop this germ anew in your child. But do not 
 reproach yourself for this. Who would not shrink back in 
 fear from the thought of becoming father or mother, if nature 
 could be supposed to single out some one particular quality 
 in the parent's character and isolate it in the child ; and, 
 alas ! my dearest Jette, I, in whom dwells every corruption 
 without exception, would, above all others, have reason to 
 fear to be a father ; and the more you loved me and the more 
 thoroughly you adopted my being into yours, the more reason 
 I shoiild have to fear. This would, indeed, be the most 
 fearful way in which God could visit the sins of the fathers 
 on the children ; but it woidd not be just, except in those 
 cases in which nature can derive nothing but sin from the 
 essential being of the parents. Therefore you cannot impute 
 any guilt to yourself; for you cannot but see that there 
 are also in your child some of those elements in virtue 
 of which you are the sweetest, loveliest, most charming of 
 beings 
 
 The above are some points in my deepest conceptions of 
 love and marriage ; but I have never seen the matter as 
 clearly as now, that I look upon your children as my own, 
 and that I live in the sweetest, most blissful hopes. 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Scldeieiincwher. 
 
 [cccxxm.] 1st Noveinhcr. 
 
 . . . . It is quite curious how free I feel in regard 
 
 to you ; I could speak to you about anything and everything. 
 
 You are not to me as a man, but like a delicate maiden, so 
 
 innocent, so like a child, and this is to me a delicious feeling. 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 145 
 
 How delightful it is that you are living in the midst of 
 such activity, and that you feel sufficient energy to under- 
 take still more ; and what a dear you are to wish me to take 
 part in it all ! Could I but express to you how I feel all the 
 good that is flowing in upon me through you. What new 
 life dawns upon me each time I receive a letter from you ! 
 These last days I have been again rather depressed and dis- 
 satisfied with myself ; but no sooner had I read your letter 
 than the mist vanished, and all became clear and serene in 
 my heart. 
 
 Sometimes I feel overwhelmed when I think of all the 
 greatness and all the delights that await me in my new life. 
 Although it gives me infinite satisfaction to see that you are 
 neither proud nor vain of what you are, I am, nevertheless, 
 not a little so ; and I anticipate with no little pleasure 
 being the wife of a celebrated man. If only it were not 
 damped by my fear of the figure I shall cut under the cir- 
 cumstances Yes, my darling Ernst, if my room 
 
 could be next to yours, that would be charming. I shall 
 always come in very softly, and look over your shoulder at 
 what you are writing, without disturbing you, and kiss the 
 hand with which you are not writing, so as not to interrupt 
 you. Is it quite decided now that the university is to be in 
 Berlin? I must confess that the beautiful royal residence 
 has great attractions for me ; and when I think of the 
 glorious concerts and operas and other such things! Music, 
 has an extraordinary effect upon me, and is most soothing to 
 my nature. My Ernst, how much that is delightful you 
 bestow upon me, in addition to the best of all, yourself ! 
 . . . . Do not either forget the historical book. I have 
 been reading Anacharsis's Travels in Greece. What an in- 
 describable enjoyment it is to catch such glimpses of the- 
 ancient world ! I grasp <[uite greedily at everything calcu- 
 lated to enlighten me on the subject. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
146 LIFE OF SCTILEIERMACHER. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cccxxiv.] Berlin, Ath November, 1808. 
 
 A full fortnight you have not, after all, allowed me 
 to pine, darling ; for to-day, after dinner, just as I was in- 
 dulging in a lounge on the sofa, your little letter arrived. 
 It has amused me very much, though it might as well 
 have given rise to very serious reflections ; for only con- 
 ceive, it has suddenly disclosed to me a very important 
 difference existing between us. I also, it is true, hope that 
 the time between this and April will pass swiftly ; but, never- 
 theless, it seems to me tremendously long, and I feel so im- 
 patient that I would fain spur it on with vigorous deeds and 
 sweet, loving words, to make it speed more swiftly still — and 
 to you April seems so near ! Nanni — who was just standing 
 behind me, and to whom I said that I would write and 
 tell you, as I do by the present, that I supposed it was 
 because the time seemed so short to you, that your letter 
 also was so short — made a very serious face and said, " K 
 her letters become short there will be reason to fear that her 
 love also will gradually vanish, and then the best of the 
 whole will be lost, even before you ever come together." 
 But then, again, she said that she was sure it was because 
 she had preached so much to you about all that must be got 
 ready first. 
 
 Oh, you darling women, how happy you are with your 
 spinning and weaving, and linen chests, and with your 
 thoughts of all the tables and chairs, &c. that have to be 
 rubbed down, which makes time seem so short to you, that 
 you fear the joiner will never get through all the polish 
 and that your pretty little fingers will never get through all 
 the stitching until the bells are ringing for the wedding ! 
 However, do not despair ; I dare say you will get ready ! 
 But, on the other hand, think of me. I know that before I 
 shall be able to call you mine, I shall have time to deliver 
 two long courses of lectures, to make myself master of a new 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 147 
 
 science, and to translate the whole of a thick volume of Plato, 
 besides to preach numerous sermons, and, perhaps, if the spirit 
 comes over me, to write some other book. And with all 
 this you expect that the time is not to seem long to me ? I 
 entreat you, my own Jette, consider what an amount of life 
 and mental activity is consumed in all these occupations, and 
 share in my feeling ! or if this be not enough for you, con- 
 sider that if we should live together for a period only twenty 
 times as long as the time between this and our marriage, you 
 will have a husband more than half a century old. Now, my 
 child, I am sure this must make an impression ! You may 
 suppose what effect was produced upon me when I read your 
 entreaties not to hurry on matters, if it should cause me great- 
 exertion or anxiety ; and how I rejoiced at your patience 
 — rejoiced in real earnest, not in joke nor in mockery; for 
 what a delicious combination will it not be — your patience 
 and my impatience ! 
 
 My sweet Jette, you do not as yet know the extent of my 
 indolence, you do not know that I never over-exert myself. 
 Never, by any chance, do I work more or less than exactly 
 suits me at the time, than the spirit moves me or the work 
 spurs me on ; and anxiety I know not. But life is short, and 
 time is noble, and we ought to lose as little as possible. 
 All this stirred in my heart, while I was lounging on the 
 sofa 
 
 For the rest, when I tell you that I feel more secure, and 
 that I see more clearly the more freely you open your mind to 
 me, I do not mean thereby to say that I had previously found 
 any tiling wanting, or felt that there was anything obscure in 
 you; it is nothing but the ever-increasing fulness of the 
 life of love, another phase of the ever-renewed feeling of hap- 
 pincss ! 
 
 Have you also read aloud to Lotte passages from those 
 letters in which there is no poetic sentiment ? 1 hope you do 
 
 not wish me to write poetry to you Upon the 
 
 whole, place before me the letters of ten loving couples, and 
 without looking at them I will venture to wager that nine of 
 
 L 2 
 
148 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 the ten are nothing to be compared to ours. On these latter I 
 place a very high value, and am fond of revelling in my half 
 
 of the riches; and when a woman, like our excellent P , 
 
 tells me, that she has listened to you with emotion, I believe 
 her, and rejoice at it, and yet I am sure there is no sentimental 
 piping in it, but nothing but what is simple, fresh, straight- 
 forward, devotional, tender, in a word, everything like love 
 itself, and expressed without reserve, just as the pen runs, and 
 as the tongue would run. I have, as yet, seen no one here to 
 whom I could have the heart to read any parts of your letters. 
 I am somewhat avaricious of them, and would rather lose, 
 I know not what, than risk throwing away one of your dear 
 words on an auditor, through whose heart they would fail to 
 flash like joy and happiness, because he was thinking of God 
 knows what, while I was reading. 
 
 And now, good night ! You see that my hour for writing 
 to you is always a late one, in accordance with the old 
 proverb, " After labour rest is sweet;" for to me it is the most 
 delicious rest to lean against you, though only in spirit, and 
 to breathe thy fragrance, sweet blossom of my heart. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henrietta Here. 
 
 [ccexxv.] Berlin, 5th November, 1808. 
 
 Happy beyond measure I am, that is quite true, I feel 
 it; but whether a great talent would have been lost, had this 
 happiness not befallen me, that is not yet quite decided, dear 
 Jette. As regards my relations to my wife, I believe it ; for 
 I see clearly that there will be a vigour, a purity, and a com- 
 pleteness in our married life which it will be well worth 
 witnessing, and to which, I trust, I shall be able to boast of 
 having contributed my part. But whether I shall show any 
 talent in regard to the children, I know not as yet ; in great 
 matters, perhaps, yes; but, as far as concerns the petty details 
 of life, I feel still very deficient in skill and very timid, 
 although it seems to me that I am daily acquiring new light 
 in reference to the subject. 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 149 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette Von Willich. 
 
 [cccxxvi.] $th November, 1808. 
 
 . It is very extraordinary, and at the same 
 time very delightful, that our thoughts so often meet at the 
 same moment on the same subject. When you wrote to me 
 
 to beg me write to W , my letter to him had just been 
 
 sent off; and now you write to me about your taking the 
 communion, and I mentioned the same subject in my last to 
 you. However, I may boast of having managed the matter 
 better than you, for I have informed you beforehand. This 
 time, I suppose in vain, for probably you will not like to 
 commune so soon again as the 27th, though I do not see 
 why you should shrink from so doing. Should you ob- 
 ject, we must fix some other day later ; for we ought, 
 during this period of sweet expectation, to perform on the 
 same day this most touching and sublime religious act, that 
 our thoughts may dwell with each other the while. Upon 
 the whole, I trust our married life will be as pious as it will be 
 serene ; and during breakfast, or at any other time when we 
 can manage it, we will often read together in the Holy Scrip- 
 tures, or on them. What you tell me in connection herewith 
 regarding our friend Herz is a matter of great interest to me ; 
 but we can do nothing but let her follow her own bent. I am 
 convinced she feels herself the want of this beautiful commu- 
 nity.* I have often seen her painfully moved when the sub- 
 ject has been touched upon. I do not know why; but I have 
 long had a presentiment that it will be in Rügen that she will 
 take the final resolution. So much is to be said in favour of 
 the presentiment, that here many outward circumstances would 
 render the step more difficult. However, let us wait patiently 
 for the issue. 
 
 In regard to our little Henriette, it will certainly be of the 
 utmost importance that we should early develop the germ of 
 piety in her, which will be the best way of producing inward 
 
 * The community of the Christian Church. 
 
150 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEK. 
 
 equanimity, and, in consequence, outward gentleness. Yes, 
 dearest Jette, if God's blessing be not withdrawn — and why 
 should it? — we will lead a life that will be edifying and 
 strengthening to many, and a joy to all who shall witness 
 
 it 
 
 I preached to-day in the cathedral with great fire, and 
 entirely to my own satisfaction, which is by no means always 
 the case. Do you know, darling, when we are married, you 
 must not always go to my church, but also sometimes to hear 
 others. As a general rule, I shall be able to tell you pretty 
 correctly beforehand whether or not you will lose anything by 
 not hearing me. But when you are present, you must be pre- 
 pared to give me your impression of the sermon, to tell me 
 whether it has pleased you or not, and to point out whatever 
 may have struck you especially. It is a great gratification to 
 me to hear such remarks ; for if nothing is said about my 
 sermon, I am apt to think that I have preached badly. 
 However, when you are here, I trust I shall never do that ; 
 for you will always inspire me in some way, and the in- 
 creased happiness of my life will not fail to make my ser- 
 mons more animated. . . 
 
 Henriette von Willicli to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [cccxxvu.] lhth November. 
 
 . . . . I cannot tell you what a strange state of 
 mind I was in while at church ; how vividly you were present 
 to me, although my whole soul was full of devotion ; how, in 
 the moments of profoundest worship in the sanctuary, I was 
 so conscious of my love for you, that the feeling of the divine 
 character of this love penetrated me anew, and filled me with 
 rapture. One doubt, however, arose in my mind, and I deter- 
 mined to speak to you at once about it. It is whether I am 
 wrong in calling those feelings religious which are awakened 
 in me by the music in church ? For I must confess that I 
 feel quite differently Avhen the service is not accompanied by 
 music. I cannot describe to you how my soul is borne aloft, 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 151 
 
 as it were, by the tones ; what a feeling of freedom is deve- 
 loped in me, what a consciousness of the holy and the infinite 
 seems to pervade me. That oppressive weight, of which I 
 lately complained to you, and which I told you made me feel 
 as if my physical being held the spiritual in bondage, and 
 prevented it from pouring itself out in tears and sentiments — 
 that weight seems to be gently lifted off, and my soul moves 
 in unrestrained freedom. And images of the eternal and the 
 infinite, and love to the dear souls whom God has given to me, 
 fill my mind. With what tears and solemn promises I fold, 
 at such moments, our children to my heart ! But tell me, 
 my Ernst, is it in accordance with pure Christian feeling, that 
 anything external should produce such a powerful religious 
 effect on me — that I require an external agency to enable me 
 to lose myself in God ? . . . 
 
 Let me tell you, dear Ernst, that I do not quite know 
 what face to make to your question as to whether I wish 
 you to write me poetical letters ; I must confess to you that 
 I feel a little hurt at your telling me thus outright, that you 
 believe I place some value on fine phrases and nonsense. 
 . . . . About my letters you say afterwards many delight- 
 ful things. You, dear man, how can they be so valuable to 
 you? to me it seems each time I am putting one in a cover, 
 that it is hardly worth sending, and then, also, I regret not 
 having worded my thoughts more elegantly, and written more 
 neatly. But no ; the spontaneous outpouring of my thought, 
 such as it communicates itself to the pen, is after all the best, 
 when I am writing to you; and indeed I could not write other- 
 wise. And as regards the elegance and neatness, that is only 
 a joke — that is of very little importance ; but that many a 
 thought is so imperfectly expressed, that I must console 
 myself with the idea that you know me afready so thoroughly 
 that you will be able to supplement what is wanting — I am 
 often quite aware of, but I do not fret at it 
 
 Can you quite understand me when I tell you that I am 
 sometimes really alarmed when I think of the many allure- 
 ments in the great royal city ? That I fear they may exer- 
 
152 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACIIER. 
 
 eise too great a power of attraction over me, because of 
 the novelty to me, and because I have in reality great taste 
 for such pleasures as the capital affords ? Many things which 
 we might otherwise enjoy together, I shall be obliged, as far 
 as I am concerned, to forego, on account of the children. I 
 can fancy, for instance, when some interesting men are assem- 
 bled around you in our home, and you are conversing toge- 
 ther on such subjects as I am able to understand, how difficult 
 it will be for me to tear myself away, when the hour strikes 
 that I ought to go to the children. I have already experi- 
 enced this on various occasions, and have been obliged to 
 make a tremendous effort to bring my mind into the com- 
 placent state in which it ought always to be when I am with 
 the children. 
 
 [cccxxvtii.] Thursday. 
 
 . Ah, dear Ernst, in regard to the children, 
 I am sure I feel the delay even more than you do. I can 
 often hardly bear to think that the dear little creatures are 
 held back so long from their father and from the salutary life 
 they would lead with him. No anxiety can possibly exceed 
 that felt by a mother, lest she might injure her children! 
 The sweetest image I can picture to myself is, the children 
 clinging to you with loving reverence, seated on your knee, 
 or folded in your arms. Yes, my Ernst, I entirely agree with 
 you that the religious feeling ought to be early developed in 
 little Jette. How well I know from my own experience that 
 a new life, as it were, may spring from this, and I dare say 
 most people have experienced something of the kind. I was 
 a very insignificant child, dull, and without sentiments of 
 affection. But I remember with strancre delight the Growth 
 of my first love — love to the invisible Father ; and how 1 
 seemed as if born anew, and my feelings were so unerringly 
 directed towards what is good and true, that even now when 
 I recall to mind what was then stirring within me, I can find 
 nothing with which 1 do not agree, or which I would reject as 
 false. I felt that the higher life that was born within me was 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 1^3 
 
 a gift of the grace of God. I clung to God with indescribable 
 love and yearning, and I often shed the most delicious tears 
 over a simple hymn of Gellert's, or when singing to an andante 
 or an adagio on the piano Avords of my own composition, 
 which Avere always of a religious character. As often as I 
 laid bare to God my heart and my life, I never offered up any 
 other prayer than that He would purify my heart, and inspire 
 it with new treasures of love. I was so entirely resigned 
 to His will, that I would have received with equal joy the 
 promise of a life of suffering as of one of happiness. And 
 how strangely secret and mysterious this inner life was ! for 
 there was not a soul who would have cared to share it with 
 me. I have often thought of late, how would it have been 
 had you then already been my dear father? 
 
 . . . . I fancy the house must be very pretty, and am 
 not a little pleased at this, and I already enjoy in imagi- 
 nation the delight with which I shall enter your room, either 
 for a little chat, or to dust your books, merely for the sake of 
 being about you. For you must try to have all the books 
 in the room. Why should you not line all the walls with 
 shelves ? In the study of a scholar, it seems to me, that there 
 can never be too many books. And then I picture to myself 
 the twilight hour, when you will have the children on your 
 knees, and will be telling them stories, and instructing, while 
 amusing, them. And then the evening, when everybody else 
 has retired, and you live for me alone, and we sit a good while 
 longer in confidential chat, you telling me about former times, 
 before I knew you. 
 
 Upon the whole, I think everything so well arranged, that 
 nothing is left for me to wish. On the subject of the doubts 
 you all entertain of my talent for housekeeping, I have had a 
 long talk with Jette Herz, and have done what I could to 
 remove hers. For, indeed, she does me injustice; and should 
 you have felt any little uneasiness on this head, let my earnest 
 assurance that it is groundless comfort you. But there is one 
 defect in me, that may seem to you intolerable, if I do not 
 succeed in gradually conquering it, and that is, my dreadful 
 
154 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEK. 
 
 forgetfulness. It is abominable, and I give you leave to 
 punish me whenever you detect it 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cccxxix.] 21st November, 1808. 
 
 I have commenced my birthday, my own dear Jette, 
 with earnest prayer that it may please God to fulfil the sweet 
 promise of happiness held out to me, and to continue it to me 
 when it has in reality become mine, and to purify and sanctify 
 me through and through, so that I may worthily enjoy it and 
 use it ! I have lifted up my heart to Him with deep-felt gra- 
 titude for the wonderfid way in which He has guided me 
 through bitter suffering, and through periods of hopelessness, 
 to the purest and highest bliss ! And, with profound humility, 
 I have felt that I am far too unworthy of the mercy which 
 the Lord has shown unto me. You see that )^ou were included 
 in my thanksgiving and in my prayer, for how could I thank 
 and pray except with you, and for you, my treasure, my price- 
 less jewel! I have sought support in you to-day as I shall 
 seek it in you the whole of my life. On your bosom I have 
 wept the sweetest and most pious tears ! "When 
 
 subsequently I went in to breakfast, Nanni brought me, from 
 the other room, the beautiful presents on a little table, the 
 whole being wreathed round with the lovely garland. I 
 cannot tell you how fresh it was, and how prettily the little 
 immortelles peeped forth from the moss ; and they were 
 gathered at the Brunnenau, in the traces, as it were, of the 
 first footsteps of our love. Yes, everything that shall grow 
 out of this shall ever be to us as immortal flowers. 
 
 You wish to know what I am doing : ah, dearest, tliis time 
 I am a little ashamed to answer your question ; I am doing 
 little or nothing, and have, perhaps, more reason to be dis- 
 pleased with myself than you have. It grieves me that you 
 should again have had one of these fits of despondency ; but 
 it gives me great pleasure and great hope for the future, that 
 you attribute to my letters the power of banishing them. 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 155 
 
 How much more effectually shall I not exercise the power 
 when I have you here ! When you feel depressed, come to 
 me at once, and I will comfort and cheer you. But to return 
 to myself— I have to complain of the fact that the new con- 
 nections I have formed rob me of an amount of time which 
 is out of proportion to the little good I can effect, though I 
 do indeed often keep matters straight, and prevent many a 
 precipitate step. In addition to these occupations, I shall now 
 have the lectures. As regards these, you will have many 
 opportunities of observing how much time they rob me of, 
 when they first begin and before I have got into the vein, 
 though, in fact, the time is not spent upon them, but is wasted 
 in irresolution as to the plan to be foUowed. But the further 
 I advance in the exposition of my subject, the more secure I 
 feel, and afterwards everything seems to go of itself. In Plato 
 I have not for a long time done anything worth speaking of, 
 and the other matters which I intended to take in hand have 
 also remained in abeyance. But things shall not be left long 
 in this state. However, follow my example, and do not de- 
 spond. It is not given to everybody to be equally full of 
 energy, and to have the same freshness of feeling at all times ; 
 and more especially it is not given to a man who is still 
 single. I know that in regard to myself, also, many things 
 will be improved as soon as you shall be here. But tell 
 me, why do you demand that religious emotion should always 
 express itself in flowing tears ? Dearest Jette, I like better 
 
 the tears that merely suffuse the eye 
 
 Do you often kiss the children for me? Do you tell them 
 under what circumstances I shall love them best, and under 
 what others I shall be displeased with them ? . . . . 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henrietta Ilerz. 
 
 [cccxxw] Berlin, 21st November, 1808. 
 
 Not until now, that all have gone, and the day has 
 reached its utmost limit, have I been able to sit down to write 
 a few hearty words to you, my dear, faithful old friend, and 
 
156 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEE. 
 
 to thank you for your affectionate remembrance. Yes, in 
 truth, I did wake up in a very different mood, and have felt 
 very differently the whole day from what I ever did before. 
 Such sweet and such certain hope, that it is in fact as good as 
 delightful reality ; such firm trust, such a rich and full life : 
 dear Jette, how shall I render myself worthy of it ? and 
 what account shall I be able to give of it to God and men ? 
 Well, I will do my best ; it is to be hoped that a door will 
 soon be opened to me for new and extensive activity : and 
 then there are the sweet children whom God has confided to 
 me, and to whom I hope to be a loving and rational guide ; 
 and then I have all of you, my friends, whose lives I am to 
 help to make easy and happy, and with whom I am to share 
 the rich treasures of my life. In short, if God's grace be not 
 withdrawn from me, I shall be one of the richest of mortals. 
 And you are right : I may, with thankful and devout humility, 
 accept the paradise God has opened to me, as something to 
 which I have a claim. I have taught so much about the 
 beauty and holiness of family life, that I ought to have an 
 opportunity of showing that what I have taught has been to 
 me more than empty words, and that the doctrine has in truth 
 sprung from my deepest feelings and from my inward energy. 
 And this I have more especially to show, that wedded life, 
 such as it ought to be, interferes with no duty, does not pre- 
 vent friendship, devotion to science, or the most self-sacrificing 
 life for the fatherland. What a magnificent opportunity do 
 not the existing circumstances afford me for showing this, and 
 how beautifully Jette acquiesces in my views and helps me to 
 carry them out ! 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willlch. 
 
 [cccxxxi.] Berlin, 27 th November, 1808. 
 
 You have not, I suppose, been able to take the com- 
 munion to-day, dear heart ? Well, at all events, I was united 
 with you in spirit, and thought of you most tenderly. I 
 prayed for us both, and was in a very devout and exalted 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 157 
 
 mood. I had preached upon the Song of Praise to the 
 Virgin Mary, and very much to my own satisfaction, although 
 I had hardly had time to prepare myself until the morning. 
 But very frequently I am most successful imder such circum- 
 stances, provided there be not any inward drawback. Dearest 
 Jette, I look forward with intense satisfaction to the time 
 when you will receive the Holy Communion from my hands; 
 for the regulations here will not allow of our partaking it 
 together. The latter would, indeed, also be very delightful; 
 for in this performance of the holy act in common, the 
 wedded union is more distinctly expressed. But it will, 
 no doubt, make a peculiar impression on you, when you 
 see me standing before you as the proclaimer of the grace 
 
 of God 
 
 I have been much touched by a letter from Steffens, in 
 which he speaks of the prospect there is of his living near 
 us, and of participating in our life. I have spoken to you 
 about Steffens, and of the great love I bear to him ; but 
 you can hardly be aware of what importance he is to me in 
 regard to my Avhole sphere of activity, and how, in regard to 
 the young people whose minds we have to work upon, he and 
 I seem necessarily to belong to each other, and how he stimu- 
 lates me and carries me forward, more than any other man 
 I know 
 
 [cccxxxn.] Wednesday Evening. 
 
 Though I have not been able to write, my thoughts have 
 been constantly occupied with you. I have been sitting for 
 my portrait at the request of a friend. Before me, as the 
 point of direction for my eyes, I had a very good copy of 
 Iwiphael's glorious picture of John the Baptist in the Wilder- 
 ness. The picture inspired me with earnest and devotional 
 feeling; and as this made me think of what you wrote to me 
 about the vivifying effect of art on the religious sentiment, 
 you were brought very vividly before my mind. Dearest, be 
 not over anxious, and do not try to separate what God him- 
 self has intimately united. Religion and art belong together 
 
158 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 as soul and body. When your inward feelings are strongly 
 moved and seek an outward expression, they, no doubt, pour 
 themselves out in song, in consequence of your natural talent 
 for music ; and so also in the church, music and singing are the 
 common bond between, and the proof of the emotions stirring, 
 in all, and this community of feeling again heightens the 
 emotions of each individual. I should be quite sorry if you 
 were indifferent to the music and the singing in the church, 
 and if you believed that the same feelings could be awakened 
 without their help. The organ, more especially, is an in- 
 vention that entirely belongs to Christianity ; so much so, 
 indeed, that it is hardly used for any other service. In 
 the church in Avhich I am to preach in future, the organ has 
 unhappily been destroyed by the French, and the accompani- 
 ment to the singing is at present merely played upon a little 
 hand-organ. It has always been one of my dearest wishes to 
 have a hand-organ in my house, so as to be able to play 
 choral hymns morning and evening. As regards paintings, I 
 am very sorry that they have been in so great a measure 
 banished from our churches; but the time for restoring them 
 has gone by, and we must resign ourselves to the fact. It 
 is true that through art, feelings may even be awakened in 
 such persons as are not in the least pious, and which they 
 are, nevertheless, deceived into believing truly devotional ; 
 but the heightened feeling with which they inspire the pious, 
 is, no doubt, really religious. To those who are receptive for 
 their influences, there must be something truly divine in 
 them ; for it is the innermost living spirit of nature that 
 speaks through them. And when you rejoice at the thought 
 of the concerts at the Singing Academy, you may do so 
 doubly, because they perform almost exclusively grand, sacred 
 music. I go there every Tuesday with great pleasure ; so, on 
 those evenings, between six and seven o'clock, you may 
 always knuw where to send your thoughts in quest of me. . . 
 I had a great deal more to say to you ; but what happened ? 
 A carriage stopped at the door, a French officer alighted, 
 came up, and requested me to accompany him to Marshal 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 159 
 
 Davoust. I found two other gentlemen in the carriage be- 
 fore me, and the upshot of the whole was that the Marshal 
 made a speech to us, in which he informed us that we had 
 been marked as fiery heads and provokers of disorder, and 
 more of the same kind. To me, it all seemed very amusing ; 
 but, though obliged to play the part of interpreter for the 
 others, I behaved with proper decorum. Do not be alarmed, 
 for the whole affair is a mere nothing. The other men were 
 perfect strangers to me, and are in no way connected with my 
 friends ; the latter, happily, are (mite unknown ; and it is 
 merely some silly rumour about my sermons that I have to 
 thank for the honour of having been called up. 
 
 [cccxxxm.J Berlin, 4th December, 1808. 
 
 I am vexed with myself for allowing myself to be 
 so absorbed by outward matters, when 1 have so much to 
 say to you that is far more important. Yet, in saying this, 
 I feel again as if I ought to make an amende honorable to 
 the external things; so true it is, that when one is initiated in 
 the secrets of love and marriage, one gets quite a new feeling 
 of respect for them. The whole house, with everything that 
 is in it, becomes a sanctuary. Chairs and tables, all parti- 
 cipate in the life that surrounds them — you sit upon the 
 former, you work at the latter, in the wardrobes are the 
 clothes in which your beloved person is clad, and then the 
 sofa on which we are to sit and sulk ; in short, before I go 
 further, I desire, in consideration of all this, to make the 
 most ample apologies to the outward matters. 
 
 You say you like so much to know what I am doing. I 
 am sorry to have to answer that at present I am doing very 
 little, and I am longing heartily for a more regular state of 
 things. I am so often interrupted, particularly by the men 
 engaged in the undertaking you know of, that I find that I 
 made a tremendously false calculation when I reckoned upon 
 finishing a volume of Plato before the close of the year. My 
 lectures, however, are already giving me great satisfaction. 
 "With the first two or three of the series, it is true, I am 
 
160 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEH. 
 
 rarely pleased (and this time made no exception), as also I 
 am seldom pleased with the exordiums to my sermons. But, 
 by this time, I have got well into my subject, and so have 
 my auditors ; and the whole is taking more distinct form in 
 my mind ; and the truth having thus seized me, my task 
 becomes more and more easy ; so that sometimes, in the 
 midst of a lecture, some special matter suggests itself to me 
 unexpectedly, without my having previously thought of it, 
 and in this way I myself almost invariably leave the lecture- 
 room with increased knowledge and insight. I cannot describe 
 to you what a delight it is to feel this ; and in addition to 
 this, the subjects that I am treating of are so exalted. To 
 explain to the young men the nature of Christianity and of 
 the state, is, in fact, to give them all that they need to elevate 
 the future above the past. Dearest Jette, when hereafter I 
 shall come from the lectures so full of joy at my success, and 
 fly into your arms, so different from when I left home, ab- 
 sorbed in speculation, with wrinkled brow and doleful 
 look, I am sure you will feel delighted. But does it not 
 strike you, as it does me, in connection with what I have 
 just said, that all my beginnings are bad ? Now, suppose 
 this should be the case with my married life also ? Yes, 
 sweetheart, I cannot guarantee that it Avill not be; but, 
 if so, do not allow yourself to be alarmed, but feel sure that 
 a better state of things will follow. Displeased we may at 
 times be with each other, just as we are sometimes displeased 
 with ourselves. But this cannot, I think, be expressed in any 
 other way than either by my laughing heartily at your mis- 
 deeds, or, if I see that this seriously annoys you, by my laying 
 your little head upon my bosom, and coaxing you and pitying 
 you. How you will treat me under the circumstances I do 
 not know, but discord between us there can never be. . . . 
 Is it not strange that, as a child, I was exactly as you de- 
 scribe yourself to have been ? "Without affection, and without 
 sensibility. Love and religion are indeed identical, and, 
 therefore, to me also they both came «at once, though I cannot 
 exactly say how; and even subsequently I experienced great 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 161 
 
 fluctuations, having fallen back into my original obtuseness 
 for long periods at a time. Strong in my own experience on 
 this point, I have often been able to console parents whose 
 children have lived on in this seeming insensibility, with the 
 assurance that the good would at length awake in them, and 
 hitherto my prediction has always been verified. Our chil- 
 dren must, at bottom, be of noble nature, and where this is 
 the case, the life of piety and love which surrounds them, 
 must sooner or later awaken sentiments in accordance with 
 itself. .... 
 
 [cccxxxiv.] Berlin, 15th December, 1808. 
 
 - . . . That you cling to me with all your heart, 
 that you have such unbounded confidence in me, I cannot 
 hear too often, dearest Jette; and each time you repeat it, I 
 am filled with new joy and delight, and with new gratitude 
 towards God. Were you but already here, that I might share 
 each moment of gladness and of sorrow with you, and seek 
 refuge in your bosom against every trouble ! I stand sadly 
 in need of this just now. There are moments, at present, 
 when I long for you with a very different longing from that 
 which I have felt heretofore — with a longing to pour out my 
 griefs and anxieties to you. I am very much depressed bv 
 various matters, not concerning my own affairs, but those 
 of the nation. Our good king has allowed himself to be 
 taken by surprise by a contemptible party, and to be led 
 into a step which will again bring matters out of the safe 
 direction in which they were progressing. It is true, there 
 are still excellent men at the head of affairs ; but who 
 knows how long they will be able to maintain their posi- 
 tion against the assaults of the despicable individuals who 
 have again ensnared the king in their meshes ? and thus the 
 country may a second time be brought to the brink of an 
 ahyss from which it may not be possible for the well disposed 
 to save it, without having recourse to measures of a very 
 ] * rilous nature. Even were I quite secure against all accidents, 
 it would not be possible for me to communicate these matten 
 
 VOL. II. M 
 
162 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 in detail in -writing; but I feel the need of speaking to you 
 in general of everything that weighs heavily upon my heart. 
 For some days these thoughts have absorbed almost the whole 
 of my time ; and morning and evening, when undisturbed in 
 bed, I do nothing but pour out my complaints to you. All 
 my occupations are upset, for I am constantly involuntarily 
 interrupting myself to reflect upon the present state of affairs 
 and upon means for ameliorating it. In the pulpit and the 
 cathedra, alone, I do my duty properly. Nevertheless, I do 
 not consider the time devoted to these reflections as lost, for I 
 hope my brooding will result in clear and correct views, and 
 will, perhaps, lead to the development of some useful and perma- 
 nent activity. You must not, however, picture things to yoxu- 
 self in too dark colours, my heart's beloved ! Never, I trust, 
 shall you be pained by seeing me utterly dejected and despond- 
 ing. That would, it seems to me, be the worst that could 
 happen to you, for it coidd not fail to diminish your esteem 
 tor me, and this, I hope, I shall secure for ever. My present 
 anxieties and my present grief have by no means assumed the 
 character of hopelessness ; on the contrary, I am greatly excited, 
 and do not only appear full of life and animation wherever I 
 show myself, but I am so in reality. And if I were able to 
 talk matters over with you, I am sure your looks and your 
 sympathy wonld inspire me Avith even greater courage. You 
 see, dearest Jette, that it would not be possible for me ever 
 to keep anything secret from you. It is essential to me 
 that you should know all that is passing in me, all that is 
 stirring my feelings ; and I cannot help pitying those poor 
 fellows who feel themselves obliged to keep many things 
 from their Avives; their marriage seems to me not to be a 
 true one. But it is, in truth, folly to say that Avomen cannot 
 be depended upon for silence. I shall trust implicitly in 
 yours AvheneA'er I recommend it to you, and I feel con- 
 vinced that no fear Avould wring a secret from you that 
 I had confided to you. But just because it is a necessity 
 of my nature to confide and communicate everything, I 
 require such a strong, energetic, courageous, and trustworthy 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 163 
 
 wife as you will be. Thus ought all German women to be, 
 and .such the best among them have ever been 
 
 .... In my choice of a historical work for you, I was 
 guided by the very lively interest I once heard you express in 
 the history of antiquity. It is the oldest work on history from 
 that period; and, I trust, that the more you read of it, the 
 better you will like it; and I reckon upon our reading many 
 passages of it together some day. Upon the whole, we will 
 dwell much in antiquity, which is nearer, as it were, to us 
 < rermans than to any other nation. Should the civil commu- 
 nity around us be organized in the admirable way that I 
 looked forward to a short time ago with more hope than af 
 present, then the comparisons we may institute will be still 
 more interesting. Should matters take a different turn, then 
 the contemplation of antiquity will afford us the best and the 
 noblest consolation. This reminds me that you had begad 
 to read Plato with Ehrenfried. How far did you get ? In 
 the volume which is about to appear, the Phaxlon Avill strike 
 you as inexpressibly beautiful; it is just suited for such a 
 meditative nature as yours. This delightful work will con- 
 tinue long through our wedded life. 
 
 . . . . I cannot write much more to-day, yet must give 
 myself time to scold a little, because you do yourself such 
 abominable injustice, in saying that you cannot express in 
 your letters all the fondness that you feel. My own Jette, your 
 religious feeling and your tenderness, and the intimate con- 
 nection between both, which is the most beautiful thine- in 
 the world; speak out so bewitchingly in your sweet words, that 
 in reading them I can never help feeling that you cannot pos- 
 aibfy derive the same satisfaction from my letters as' 1 do from 
 yours. Altogether, women are the true letter-writers; we 
 men are mere bunglers in the art. And a? t;»r writing love, 
 what man c:in do this as women can, and how few women 
 even can do it as you do, love ; so pure, so deep, so lively, 
 and so sweet ! 
 
 U 2 
 
164 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIKK. 
 
 Henriette von WiUieh to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [cccxxxv.] 19th December, 1808. 
 
 . . . . How I shall feel when I have been forget- 
 ful and you laugh at me, I cannot as yet say — but that I shall 
 not feel hurt, that I know — though I may be vexed with 
 myself even unto tears. But I must tell you I am not so bad 
 as to forget something every day. Probably you will only 
 have occasion to enjoy your laugh about once a week. 
 
 It must indeed be a glorious enjoyment to feel as you 
 do, that you are gaining knowledge and insight for yourself 
 while imparting it to others. I shall most heartily partici- 
 pate in it, and I know that a share of all that is great and 
 beautiful in you will always devolve upon me. Dear Ernst, 
 with what tenderness your wife will receive you when you 
 return home, and how the little ones will cling around you ! 
 God grant that I may ever on these occasions be able to read 
 in your eyes, that it is happiness to be with wife and children 
 — but how could it be otherwise ? 
 
 Ah ! my Ernst, words seem ever poorer, and less capable 
 of expressing how very dear you are to me. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von WiUieh. 
 
 [cccxxxvi.] Berlin, '2öth December, 1808. 
 
 Last night, at Reimers, in the midst of the Christmas 
 festivities and joy, I was seized with dreadful cramps in the 
 stomach, which kept me in torture all night ; I got up this 
 morning with a remnant of pain, and very exhausted and 
 miserable, and went thus into the pulpit : but nevertheless, I 
 preached very much to my own satisfaction, whether equally 
 80 to that of my hearers, I cannot say, for the one does not 
 always follow from the other. When I had finished, I was, 
 however, so ill that I should have liked above all things to 
 sro to bed. I can endure great pain without being so far 
 overcome as to be unfit for society, or for work ; but in 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 165 
 
 consequence of the resistance which I make, I become more 
 exhausted than most people .... 
 
 I am writing to you in the midst of a state of confu- 
 sion, which will no doubt be very striking to you when 
 you experience it for the first time here. It is near upon 
 two o'clock of the night, the watchman is blowing his horn 
 with all his might, the drums are beating, and from my 
 window I can see the reflection of a great fire. The ar- 
 rangements for extinguishing fires are very good, and the 
 damage done is therefore seldom great, for which reason I can 
 give myself up to the glorious impression of the fury of the 
 element, and the victorious struggle which human ingenuity 
 and activity are waging against it. I wish such a fire would 
 break out once in my neighbourhood, so as to necessitate 
 my taking measures of safety, for I should like to know how 
 much presence of mind I should show on such occasions, as I 
 have never yet been tried ; and before my happy fife with 
 you is to begin, I should like to know how far my capacities 
 go, and what I am worth, in all directions. Upon the whole 
 I have pretty much confidence in myself, yet as long as I have 
 not been tried, I cannot know whether this confidence is well 
 founded. This is another reason why I rejoice at having been, 
 in a certain measure at least, called to combat in a new arena 
 before my union with you : and should I now be so fortunate 
 as to be invited to take part in state affairs, if only tempo- 
 rarily, there will be nothing left for me to wish. Church and 
 science, state and family — these comprise all that concerns a 
 man in this world, and I, happy one, shall be among the 
 favoured few who have had a share in each. It is true it 
 is only in our modern days, when men are separating and 
 dividing all things, that such a combination has become of 
 rare occurrence; formerly every able man might be called 
 upon to act in each of these departments, and thus it must be 
 again in future : it is for this that we are striving. People 
 who rise above the common herd, all seem to rejoice so much 
 at the thought of gaining an undying name in history. I do 
 not know how it is, but I cannot feel that this is worth 
 
166 LIFE OF SCHLEIEIIMACHER. 
 
 striving for. The way in which kings, merely because they 
 are such, secure a name for themselves for a couple of cen- 
 turies at least, is certainly not to be envied. The action of 
 men in the state is always a common action, and we are not 
 just when we ascribe any great result to a single individual. 
 Of science this is still more true, and the coming generation 
 will consist of very poor fellows indeed, if fifty years hence 
 they have not acquired much greater knowledge of all things, 
 than even the foremost of us has in the present day. The 
 artist alone can become immortal in this way, but I am once 
 for all not an artist. 
 
 [cccxxxvu.] Saturday Evening, 31st December, 1808. 
 The last day in the year I must end as I hope to begin 
 every day of the most blessed half of the next, with a little 
 chat with you. You have been grieving on my account — 
 that must not be. I would fain see you as cheerful and serene 
 as I am myself. No, dearest, so depressed I could not be by 
 an evil impending, it is true, but not inevitable, as to awake 
 in low spirits. I trust I shall never despair of my country, 
 I have too firm a faith in it, too firm a conviction of its 
 being an instrument in the hand of God, and that we are a 
 chosen people of God. It is possible that all our efforts may 
 prove vain, and that for the present we shall have to submit 
 to hard times ; but the country will after a while come forth 
 renewed from its trials. But even this possible failure there 
 is not so much reason to fear now, as when I last wrote to 
 you; but should it be otherwise, you need not fear to find me 
 melancholy and dejected, though vexed and indignant at the 
 gross follies committed you may see me sometimes, and also 
 speculating upon the best means of counteracting and retriev- 
 ing those follies and mistakes, or upon the measures to be 
 adopted in future should the false step be taken. For the rest 
 I am not as yet decided what path to follow, as the matters 
 that are to determine me are by no means settled. But 
 whatever may happen, I trust that nothing shall keep us sepa- 
 rated longer than at first determined. I have pictured to myself 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 167 
 
 with true delight, how, living in a time pregnant with great 
 events, I shall ever have you at my side, or know that you 
 are there, eager to welcome me back when I return home 
 after having attended to some business or other which has 
 roused and called for the exercise of all my energies. To live 
 in times like these is a thing to thank God for ; for all good- 
 ness is felt more deeply, and the power of representing it in 
 all its beauty and all its glory is much enhanced. Yes, even 
 looking only to the pure enjoyments of love, I would rather 
 introduce you into such circumstances than into a retired 
 idyllic life. For nothing can be more exalting to love, than 
 thus to draw within its sphere all that is great in the world 
 around it. Therefore let us meet cheerfully and blissfully 
 all that may come. 
 
 [cccxxxvm.] 1st Januar}/, 1809. 
 
 Your letter has come to me as a new-year's gift. 
 Dear heart, you seem to have felt such joy at the receipt of 
 the picture, and to have regarded it with such deep and holy 
 emotions, that I almost regret having written to you so play- 
 fully about it. I am afraid you are actually guilty of a kind 
 of idol- worship in regard to it, my sweet bride; and yet how 
 can I help rejoicing at this ? I am but too well pleased to see 
 how the eye of love beautifies what it looks at, and I cannot tell 
 you how much I have been moved by it. But I must seriously 
 entreat you not to form to yourself an image of me from the 
 picture, which you may not afterwards recognize in the ori- 
 ginal. There may be something peculiar and characteristic 
 about my forehead, but beautiful it is by no means ; and as 
 for my eyes, the artist has not been able to say more for them 
 than I can. You know how I have ever complained of their 
 immovable, glassy appearance, and of their being rather blinds 
 behind which my soul is concealed, than windows through 
 which it looks out ; and hoAV provoked I am at their express- 
 ing so little of what there is in me. But you know also there 
 is a saying — very likely not entirely without foundation — that 
 when a married couple live long and happily together, they 
 
168 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 grow like each other ; so it is for you to try what you can 
 make out of these dim eyes. 
 
 . . . . Your tea was tried for the first time yesterday, in 
 
 honour of a very nice fellow, little T , from Anclam, who 
 
 was one of my earliest and most faithful pupils in Halle, and 
 between whom and myself there exists great mutual regard. 
 I invited him, together with some other of my former pupils, 
 and among these I always feel thoroughly happy. I used to 
 say formerly, that the time I spent in Halle was the most 
 delightful period of my life, and one that would never return. 
 If I do still say this sometimes to such persons as know no- 
 thing of my new happiness, I always punish myself inwardly 
 for telling an untruth ; yet there is one feature of that period 
 which I can hardly hope to see repeated, namely, the healthy 
 and hearty manner in which I lived with the young people ; 
 for here circumstances will not be exactly the same. How- 
 ever, what can be done in this direction we will do ; and I 
 am sure it will give you true pleasure to see me draw the 
 youths around me, and to witness their affection for me. 
 
 [cccxxxix.] Berlin, 1th January, 1809. 
 
 . . I am glad that the letter containing the 
 so-called confessions has not been so long retarded, as I am 
 thus able to answer it at once. But I should like to seat 
 you first on the sofa, and place myself on a stool or on the 
 floor at your feet, so that I might look up the while into your 
 glorious eyes ; and then I would fain assure you, that I do 
 not in the least picture you to myself otherwise than you 
 really are, and that I am altogether incapable of entertaining 
 such preference for one good quality above another, as to 
 exaggerate the one in imagination and to depreciate the other. 
 And as for what you denominate your want of feeling, my 
 own Jette, how long have I not known that ? how much have 
 we not already written to each other upon that subject? how 
 often have I not conceded to you as much as I thought was 
 true, and endeavoured to make you comprehend yourself more 
 clearly? This time, let me try whether I cannot make more 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 169 
 
 impression, by representing the matter to you from another 
 side. Real, true feeling is nothing more than the transition 
 from the impression which man receives from without, to 
 action. He who is so strongly affected by the outward events, 
 connected with the ideas which ought to be the guides of man 
 and to constitute his true and higher life, as to adopt the right 
 in action with full consciousness and with confident energy 
 and delight, he feels strongly and truly. Such an individual 
 will — even where immediate action is impossible or not called 
 for — be stirred by emotions and desires which will, so to say, 
 typify right action, and thus give expression to the inward 
 disposition. In this highest sense you cannot possibly say 
 that your feelings are blunt ; you need but question your life 
 and your actions, and they will contradict you. That you are 
 not always so conscious of your feelings as others may be, that 
 is possible, because this consciousness is, in fact, only acquired 
 by the passive excitement of the feelings, by memory or sym- 
 pathy, or such like, and such excitements are usually rare in 
 persons who lead a healthy active life, — in short, it is not in 
 strength, but in softness of feeling, that you may be slightly 
 deficient. As the two are very seldom found in perfect equi- 
 librium, you have no right to maintain that those natures in 
 which the former preponderates and the latter is held in sub- 
 jection, are the least noble. At all events, if you be right, I 
 may tell you at once, that you condemn me as well as your- 
 self, for I am exactly like you in this respect ; and in Stral- 
 sund, as amid the bustle of the fair, I should, as little as your- 
 self, have experienced grief and deep sadness if, like yourself, 
 1 had had some active business to occupy me; for, under such 
 circumstances, passive emotions are not easily roused in dispo- 
 sitions like yours and mine. And when you tell me, that 
 even when you are not occupied or otherwise drawn off by 
 the circumstances of life, you are at times quite incapable of 
 such feelings, because of your inward emptiness and dryness 
 — for I know you will say all this — I reply, that the reason 
 is always the same, though in these cases it is more distant 
 and less apparent. For the rest, I do exactly the same as 
 
170 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 you. I also speak a great deal about my own coldness, and 
 also sometimes call it want of feeling, though more in sport 
 than in earnest, and people resolutely refuse to believe me, 
 because they think me an excellent man, and they are con- 
 scious that their own virtue and piety consist mostly in these 
 passive emotions. But, dear child, I do believe you, only I 
 cannot allow you to call it want of feeling, and to mistrust 
 your own strength, because you suppose it to be connected 
 herewith. Nay, I can no longer resist ! I must seat myself 
 by your side, and press you to my heart, and coax and com- 
 fort you, after all the torture you have inflicted on yourself. 
 But 1 cannot help you : it must remain as it was. I can, once 
 for all, not see you otherwise than you are, and I cannot with- 
 draw even one atom of my love from you Were I 
 
 in earnest to reproach you for anything, it would be for failing 
 somewhat in true faith ; but even this is only a passing condi- 
 tion, for the prevailing state of your consciousness is, I am sure, 
 lhat of cheerful, serene, and trusting love. You cannot either 
 seriously think that you arc incapable of sharing with me all 
 that is noble, good, and holy ; for even should I at times be 
 more strongly affected than you, at other times the reverse will 
 be the case, and more especially as regards your beautiful out- 
 bursts of veneration for myself, and we will therefore faithfully 
 help each other. Or do you think that I never feel apathetic, 
 and good for nothing, and indolent? Yet I do not therefore say 
 that I am not worthy of you, but I will ever, on such occasions, 
 seek to strengthen and refresh myself in communion with you. 
 
 [cccxl.] Sunday. 
 
 I have been preaching on the blessedness of early piety ; 
 but 1 do not know how I have preached, for no one ever says 
 a word to me about it. I am aware that I touched upon 
 matters, which it is right and good to mention, but how 1 
 expressed them I do not in the least know. This I know, 
 however, that the sermon was very long, and that in .spite of 
 the mild weather I felt colder than I often do in the severest 
 frost ; from which lact a somewhat unfavourable inference may 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 171 
 
 be drawn. "Were you here, my own Jette, I should be better 
 informed. Continue to love me with all your heart until we 
 meet, and be as happy as you can. 
 
 [cccxli.] Berlin, 21st Januar)/, 1800. 
 
 I forgot in my last to answer L 's question as to 
 
 how far we had got in the Odyssey. We read yesterday the 
 17th and the 18th books, and 1 dwelt with particular emphasis 
 and conviction on the hues : — 
 
 " No cunning shift the stomach's rage can still, 
 That rueful source of many a human ill." 
 
 Not because of the starvation, which I have never experienced, 
 but because of the cramps, which Homer never experienced. 
 However, it was rather the remembrance than the actual pain 
 that affected me so strongly ; for although I had several severe 
 attacks in the beginning of the week after the catarrhal fever, 
 I believe that I am now really convalescent. "We have enough 
 of Homer left for three evenings more, for I always read two 
 books at tea ; when this is finished, I propose to read the 
 yl'Jneid to Nanni in Voss's translation, and then I think she 
 will have had enough of ancient poetry for the present. I can- 
 not tell you what a charm Homer has exercised over me again 
 after four and twenty years — only think, longer than you have 
 lived! — for so long it is since 1 read him regularly through, 
 though in the interval I have occasionally conned over certain 
 passages. The sweet simplicity, the fresh and lively mode of 
 presentation, and the healthy tone of life, that prevail through- 
 out, are most delightful. As I said lately to some one, were 1 
 called upon to save three works of antiquity only, not includ- 
 ing the Bible, they should be no other than Homer, Herodotus, 
 and Plato. I am always particularly pleased when we are at 
 home in the evening and able, to " Homerize." .... 
 
 I have to-day been preparing communicants. 
 This reminds me, that as in future it will of course not be 
 proper that I should take the communion in any other church 
 than my own, 1 may now make a definite arrangement with 
 you relative to this matter, for besides to-morrow there will 
 
172 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIER. 
 
 only be twice communion there, viz. : on the oth of March 
 and on the 16th of April. Pray inquire whether you will be 
 able to attend the Lord's table on either of those days ; it 
 would be very gratifying to me if it could be so. . . . 
 
 [cccxlii.] Wednesday, 25th January, 1809. 
 
 . I am at present occupied with a very dif- 
 ficult task, namely, the introduction to the Phasdon. As yet 
 it refuses to take shape on paper ; I am in consequence in 
 a very sad state, such as you will probably have frequent 
 occasions of witnessing in future, and I may, therefore, as well 
 describe it to you beforehand. The matter which I am to 
 produce is not inwardly ripe; something is wanting, but I do 
 not exactly know what. As long as I feel this I cannot pos- 
 sibly begin to write, and I can as little make up my mind to 
 take hold of anything else, and thus the subject that troubles 
 me always remains on the order of the day, without anything 
 essential being done to forward it, though much time is spent 
 in cogitating and turning it over and over. This continues 
 until suddenly I feel inspired and a new light dawns upon me. 
 And only think, I have still eight such introductions to write, 
 which I shall have the same difficulty in producing. But 
 when this is done, then all the work laid out to be finished 
 before my joining you, will be accomplished. 
 
 I have just received a letter from my sister 
 Lotte, who seems to have had great pleasure in reading your 
 letters to me and also mine to you. She confesses that she 
 is quite in love with you, and that she wishes very much 
 that we could pay our visit to her in Silesia this year already, 
 as she has all kinds of strange doubts as to Avhat may happen 
 next year. For my part, however, I have no presentiment of 
 anything likely to prevent us, either good or evil. She writes 
 that she is despatching a large packet to the island (of Rügen) ; 
 you will, therefore, soon receive a letter from her without its 
 passing through me, and yoxi will thus be placed on an inde- 
 pendent footing in regard to each other, and may in future 
 make as many remarks about me as you like 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 173 
 
 [cccxLin.] Thursday, 26th. 
 
 I shall not be able to devote much time to you to-day, 
 but shall write a few lines not to lose my reputation for an- 
 swering without delay. The persecution directed against Stein 
 has by no means surprised me. I had, indeed, not anticipated 
 it; yet when it came, it seemed to me like something well 
 known to me, and that I had expected. One thing only has 
 given me pain, and that is, that he has departed in such great 
 haste, which was not at all necessary ; I am also sorry that I 
 was not able to see him before. I have sent him word that I 
 congratulate him, for to be declared an enemy of the "great 
 nation," is the highest honour that could befall a public man 
 in our day. If I have not for a long while spoken to you 
 about public affairs, it is merely because things seem sunk in 
 a state of sullen brooding and suspense, which may last some 
 weeks longer. Be not alarmed, for even if I would, I could 
 not remain silent to you, and therefore as soon as a crisis 
 comes on you shall be informed of how far I am affected by 
 it ; but do not think that matters are always so serious as I 
 may represent them in the first moment of excitement. 
 
 As far as I have been able to learn, Dohna is getting on 
 admirably. He keeps me in tremendous activity. He wishes 
 to have the most circumstantial letters from me every post 
 day, and I can hardly help yielding to his wishes, as I write to 
 him on matters concerning the internal administration, which 
 are exceedingly interesting to myself. That you have read 
 yourself so deeply into the most sorrowful period of my life,* 
 and have sympathized so heartily with me, is a great satis- 
 faction to me. Yes, dear heart, I shall be very happy in 
 future, and you would be astonished if you knew how calm I 
 feel in regard to that period, though I cannot conceive why it 
 should have formed an essential part of my life, if it were not 
 that I learnt then to think more correctly on various points 
 connected with married life ; and thus you also, my beloved, 
 
 * He had given her his correspondence with Eleanore to read. 
 
174 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 have been benefited by it. From one point of view, you are 
 light in what you say about the unequal relation between hus- 
 band and wife. The connection of men with science and art 
 and all the affairs of the community, and the capacity they 
 show in these various spheres of activity, seem so much more 
 important than the avocations in connection with which women 
 develop their talents, that in cases where the husband exhibits 
 great capability, it appears as if the wife must of necessity feel 
 herself subordinate to him ; and the relation can hardly be a 
 good one, when the wife is greatly superior to her husband in 
 mental capacity and strength of character. But if a wife 
 understands her husband, as true love will always teach her 
 to understand him, and if she is mother and wife in the true 
 sense of the words, the feeling of her husband towards her 
 cannot be other than one of perfect ecpiality ; and as, if she 
 be not possessed by vanity, she may in many respects keep 
 herself more pure and unstained by contact with the world 
 than a man can ; this gives her on the other side a superiority 
 over her husband, and allows him to place her above himself, 
 without any risk of disturbing the true relation between them. 
 As a general rule, you are more innocent than Ave ; and I am 
 sure that, upon reflection, you 'will not object to this supe- 
 riority; and thus you will find that nature has after all 
 
 regulated the matter well and beautifully 
 
 . The devotional feeling aroused in you by my 
 picture, has again made me see distinctly how it was possible 
 for the belief in miraculous pictures to have taken birth, at a 
 time when the art of painting had attained its highest deve- 
 lopment, and when the faith in the holy legends was still a 
 living faith. For it is wonderful what life, what transparency 
 and animation there is in a picture when it is executed, and 
 also viewed, in the right spirit 
 
 [CCCXUV.] Berlin, 28th Januar/f, 1809. 
 
 . I have been to the play for the first time 
 for a very long while. Nanni wished so much to go some 
 evening, and I had heard that they were to give a new piece 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 175 
 
 by Kotzebue, in "which Inland and Mrs. Beth mann were 
 said to perform admirably. If I thought that you had read 
 the play, I would give you my opinion of the performance — 
 that Kotzebue is in truth an infamous fellow. He has not the 
 slightest conception of true morality; and when he attempts to 
 represent noble characters, he defaces them in the most vulgar 
 and disgusting way, so that one is actually ashamed and 
 vexed with oneself for being carried away and moved by the 
 events of the piece, which happens from time to time to an 
 honest dog luke myself. .... 
 
 [cccxlv.] Tuesday Evening. 
 
 Then came your letter this afternoon, just 
 as I was about to start for the lecture-room; and I am de- 
 lighted to find that I had been anxious without reason. 
 
 But, alas, I am saying all this, as if matters were still as 
 they used to be. You will understand this ; you know how 
 difficult it is, when a great change has taken place, always to 
 remember it. But I would rather confess to you at once, 
 honestly and openly, as we have ever treated each other, 
 that your letter has made an extraordinary impression upon 
 me. To think that you have not one spark of wit, it is too 
 bad ! Deep feeling you are also wanting in — but that is the 
 old story — and even your much vaunted strength, is not real 
 strength ! I cannot conceive how I came to love you ! It 
 is as if a veil had fallen from my eyes, and it seems to me 
 a most unfortunate affair, which I ought to get out of as 
 speedily as possible. Come quick, dearest Jette, throw your- 
 self into my arms, and forgive the stupid joke that my pen 
 has been guilty of. Look through my eyes into my heart, 
 and read there how entirely we are made for each other, how 
 little I should wish you to be otherwise than you are, and 
 that, after all, I must be a much better judge than you are 
 of how much wit, how much feeling, and how much strength 
 you have. Yes, and I can tell you to a tittle how much you 
 have of each ; only as regards your wit and fancy, I must 
 have time to reflect ; for hitherto, I must confess, I have given 
 
176 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 little attention to such special qualities in you, but have loved 
 you in bulk. But seriously, it would be a pity should you 
 not have a vein of wit and fancy in you. Pray do try 
 and discover one, if you have to dig ever so deeply for it, 
 because in our house you will most likely have to furnish the 
 whole supply. I can assure you that I do not possess an 
 atom of it. Have you ever, in myself or in my writings, 
 met with a single brilliant sally, startling turn, or striking and 
 unexpected combination ? Yet this is what is generally 
 understood by wit. Reflect a little, and you will find that all 
 that I have written is tremendously consistent (at least, so I 
 flatter myself); but, at the same time, as bald as necessity 
 would have it, and, therefore, also dry and monotonous. And 
 should you, on some exceptional occasion, find that I am 
 really witty, you may feel assured that I am not myself at 
 that moment, and that it is only my mimetic talent that is 
 exhibiting itself; some witty friend will probably be before 
 my mind's eye at such moments, and in imitation of him, I 
 speak, even though sometimes par anticipation. If, therefore, 
 you value wit so very highly, I shall have more reason to be 
 afraid of Steffens, of Brinkmann, and of many others, than 
 you will have to fear Caroline, "Wilhelmine, and Hannah, and 
 I do not know whom. In reviews, I am, indeed, always said 
 to be rich in wit and fancy ; but if the people that say so 
 knew what wit and fancy are, they would hardly be reviewers. 
 Listen to me, Jette ! We will make a contract with each 
 other, by which, as is right and proper, we will both be 
 gainers, and which we will honestly keep : we will never 
 compare ourselves with others; there is nothing to be gained 
 by that ; and if any one were to expect me to describe you 
 by comparison, I should really not know what to say, if it 
 were not, " To tell the truth, your ladyship, she is not as 
 amiable as you are, not so witty as another, not as sensible 
 as a third, not so loving as a fourth, not so well-informed as 
 a fifth, not bo pretty as a sixth, but, taken altogether, she is 
 the only one whom I love." Could you do otherwise in regard 
 to mc? But for all this, I remain an extraordinary being, and 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 177 
 
 so do you. And now, dearest, do not be vexed with me 
 because of my sauciness. 
 
 As for the acquisition of knowledge, that is a subject on 
 which a great deal may be said; but it is very natural that 
 men should not be willing to come to your aid in this mat- 
 ter, and, therefore, you must not put an evil construction 
 on it. Only consider how their entire education, from their 
 earliest youth, is directed towards the attainment of know- 
 ledge, how they must toil for it the whole of their life, that 
 those among them, who really know something, have devoted 
 their time exclusively to this object, and yet feel that they 
 have attained but little. And then, further, consider that, 
 knowing no other way than the one they have themselves 
 trodden, it is but natural that they should despair of being 
 able to help you to knowledge. Now, there is, indeed, 
 another way, but that can only be known to those in whom 
 science and feeling are so intimately blended as you rarely 
 see them. For my own part, I have a kind of vague pre- 
 sentiment of how we ought to proceed in the matter : and, 
 I believe, I shall be able to aid you in acquiring such know- 
 ledge as is best suited to women. The only thing that I fear 
 I shall be wanting in is sufficient familiarity with all the de- 
 tails of the subjects that are likely to interest you the most, 
 and which you will desire to become acquainted with. In my 
 opinion, all knowledge must, in the case of women, be given 
 in a religious form, and, at the same time, also in a sensuous 
 form ; the first, I might be able to accomplish, but in attempt- 
 ing the latter, I should often fail for want of details — at least,, 
 when endeavouring to impart instruction in unpremeditated" 
 and animated conversation. I have always obstinately refused 
 to deliver lectures to a mixed aiulience of men and women ^ 
 but to women alone — that is to say, to women with whom 
 I am intimately acquainted — I should like very much to 
 deliver a course, and I trust we shall be able to manage to 
 have a regular evening hour for such entertainment. The 
 power of penetrating deeply into the inner nature of things 
 I may tell you at once, that you possess, but in attaining 
 VOL. II. N 
 
178 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEE. 
 
 a thorough knowledge of details, I think you will not be so 
 successful as our friend Herz. That you did not avail yourself 
 of the first year of your marriage with Ehrenfried to extend 
 your knowledge, is very natural; but, in reality, you were 
 on the way to it. You know you read my Discowses with 
 him, and also began Plato; and though it was beginning 
 with the most difficult, it was, nevertheless, a step in the 
 right direction : and then, Ehrenfried had not time to instruct 
 you, otherwise than through books. Be quite easy, we shall 
 manage all this, and I will never allow myself to be so 
 hampered with business as to be unable to devote a great 
 deal of my life to you in regard to these matters also. 
 
 [cccxlvi.] 5th February, 1809. 
 
 Your letter is before me, and the first thing that 
 catches my eye, is again that offensive inequality between 
 thine and mine. Hear me, child, this is not to be borne, and 
 I must try to drive every vestige of it out of you. Good God, 
 what shall I do to make you feel how entirely I am yours 1 
 . . . . But one thing more is required for this, which 
 will appear to you rather paradoxical, and for this very 
 reason it is meet that I should tell it to you ; this is, that you 
 must not aspire to be more than is right. Otherwise equality 
 cannot be established. What I have said to you about mar- 
 ried life and about society, applies to you as well as to me. 
 In society you must allow free scope to your individuality, 
 be to each what you can be to him or her, and take from 
 each what you can get, feeling all the while that whatever 
 enjoyment you receive or afford, is mine as well as j'ours, 
 because you yourself are so entirely mine. Until you have 
 lived in society in this free and simple manner, you cannot 
 in fact know whether you possess wit and fancy, and whether 
 you are interesting ; for in our intercourse with each other 
 llicse qualities cannot manifest themselves separately and 
 distinctly, because in the true life of love all these secondary 
 matters are so insignificant that they are not noticed. Do 
 you not feel that it would be ridiculous, if, at any time, 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 179 
 
 ■when you and I had been discussing the most intei-esting 
 subjects together, either with much animation or Avith deep 
 earnestness, you were to say to yourself that I had shown 
 much wit and fancy, and that I had been very interesting? I 
 
 am sure such a thought would never strike you 
 
 This evening I have something very tiresome in prospect. 
 I am to spend it in the society of a number of men, not 
 one of whom is good enough for me. They have all low 
 views, and will, no doubt, talk no end of nonsense about the 
 present state of affairs. Under such circumstances I do one 
 of three or four things. Either I give utterance to the 
 bitterest sarcasms, and thus close the people's mouths, or I 
 turn everything into a joke, or I remain perfectly silent, or 
 I adapt myself entirely to their views, bantering them the 
 while so slily, that they remain to the last in doubt as to 
 what my real meaning is. According as I am influenced by 
 the spirit of the society, I adopt one or another of these expe- 
 dients, and remain faithful to it the whole evening. In every 
 case the people feel uneasy and wish me at the devil, and 
 afterwards, of course, cut me up most unmercifully; but I 
 cannot help it. Why are they such miserable wights? 
 
 [cccxlvu.] 12th February, 1809. 
 
 Again our thoughts have met in memory of our dear 
 departed. You are right ; in silence I prefer to fold you with 
 your sorrow to my bosom, feeling one with you in Jove and 
 holy remembrance of him. It must be a delightful and 
 tranquillizing thoiight to you, that you took so much part in 
 his life in his last days, so that yen may look upon that 
 period as the real consummation of your beautiful union — at 
 least on your side. One thiBg, however, always impresses 
 me most painfully, when 1 revert to Klircnfried's death, viz., 
 that he was not allowed to retain his consciousness, and to 
 recognize you to the last; but on calm reflection I always 
 console myself with what I have expressed in one of my 
 sermons, that the last moment of full consciousness is in 
 reality the last moment of life. Judging from my knowledge 
 
 N 2 
 
180 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIEE. 
 
 of my own physical constitution, I think that I shall most likely 
 enjoy the privilege Avhich I wish so much had been granted 
 to our beloved friend. Yes, dear Jette, the anniversary of 
 his death shall always be a time of hallowed mourning and 
 remembrance in our house ; and it precedes so beautifully 
 Passion week, the general period of mournful remembrance. 
 Our children, also, shall learn as early as possible to unite love 
 for their departed parent with affection for their living 
 father. But, dear child, do not overstep the limits which 
 God has marked out for us; do not wish that Ehrenfried 
 should give us any other token of his sanction and remem- 
 brance than that which dwells in our hearts, in the beautiful 
 blending of our love for each other and our remembrance of 
 him, in the commingling of our joy and our sorrow, when, 
 on the anniversary of his death, you repose silently on my 
 bosom, and I kiss away the tears from jour .sad eyes; and 
 also that other beautiful outward token, that we have an 
 image of him in our children, and that it is our highest wish 
 to bring them up to be worthy of him. Could we have 
 more delightful tokens than these ? Could we contemplate 
 in a more worthy image, the eternal existence of our de- 
 parted friend ? 
 
 One word more only to-day. You are always desirous of 
 knowing in what state of mind I am, and the rumours of 
 impending convulsions which have probably reached you 
 may have made you more anxious than ever. I may assure 
 you that I am in a state of perfect and blissful calmness. I 
 see distinctly that in a few months we must either have 
 gained everything or lost everything, according as the 
 government may resolve, and as yet it is very dubious what 
 it will resolve. I know, however, that I have done every- 
 thing, and ever will do everything that is in my power, to 
 promote a better state of things ; and, therefore, I am quite 
 easy, and entertain a, profound conviction, that however things 
 may turn out, my life with you will not fail me. Endeavour 
 to participate in my tranquillity, dearest heart ; I think that 
 nothing can rob me of it 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 181 
 
 Henriette von Willich to Sehleiermaeher. 
 
 [cccxlviil] loth February, 1800. 
 
 Your letter has given me very great pleasure. You 
 cliat most delightfully, my heart's own Ernst, although at the 
 same time you treat me most unmercifully. But wait a little : 
 since my meekness makes you so saucy, I will take my re- 
 venge by adopting a pride and presumption that shall make 
 you wish the meekness back again. 
 
 But let me tell you, my beloved, that I believe, never- 
 theless, that you possess wit and fancy, and that some evidence 
 of it may even be traced in your writings, although what you 
 say about consistency and necessity is quite true. I believe 
 that you have afforded many a reader pleasure by unexpected 
 turns of thought, and have caused much vexation to the 
 foolish, who would fain continue in the beaten tracks, by the 
 new ways of life you have opened up. But slap my mouth, 
 for venturing to prate about your works — in short, it is my 
 opinion that you have wit, and that in me there is not the 
 slightest vein of it. But I must once more commence a 
 lamentation at your so unmercifully placing before me all 
 that I am not! Never mind, take the kiss of reconciliation, 
 dear love — I am so entirely thine, and my heart embraces 
 you with the ever -increasing consciousness that you are 
 mine, entirely mine, and that I am really the right wife for 
 you. Ah, your manner of repeating it is ever so inde- 
 scribably sweet ! My Ernst, I am too happy ! 
 
 [cccxlix.] 10//« February. 
 
 .... What you say about your manner of treating 
 men is interesting enough ; but to speak seriously, would it 
 not be worth your while to show them the truth ? may there 
 not be some among them who would hold out their hand to 
 goodness, if they did but recognize it, but who are too weak 
 to find it by their own unaided efforts? Here, In Rügen 
 even, repeated complaints have been made of the manner in 
 
182 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 which you avoid entering upon higher topics in society. 
 Many persons were much disappointed on finding that, when 
 they broached a subject of the kind, with the hope that you 
 would throw some further light upon it, you either remained 
 quite silent or entered into their opinion without expressing 
 yourself on the matter at any length, or with any interest — 
 in short, as you describe it. In this way you can hardly fail 
 sometimes to hurt those, who would really have been willing 
 to adopt higher views 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cccl.] 21s« February, 1809. 
 
 Last Sunday I preached in the church that is to be 
 mine in future. It was, as you know, the beginning of Lent, 
 during which I always feel particularly devout, and speak 
 accordingly. I was rather pleased with my sermon, though 
 I had had very little time to prepare it properly ; but the 
 whole of the rest of the day I was not myself. .... 
 
 . I have repeatedly upbraided myself for never 
 having answered your question relative to Alexander Dohna, 
 as you might so easily misunderstand my silence. But it is 
 very difficult to speak about him to any one who does not 
 know him ; and I cannot undertake to answer for your not 
 getting a false impression of him through me. I believe you 
 would learn to know him better from a single letter of his 
 than from any description of him that I can give you. My 
 relation to him is not either easy to describe. As regards 
 essentials there is an intimate bond between us ; each knows 
 everything of importance that regards the other, we have un- 
 bounded confidence in each other, and when we are discuss- 
 ing any subject, each speaks out his meaning without reserve. 
 In addition to this, we are personally much attached to each 
 other, we find pleasure in each other's society, and there 
 is nothing in either that is decidedly repugnant to the other. 
 At bottom, we are thus essentially friends ; but, nevertheless, 
 this does not appear on the surface, as much as it does in my 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 183 
 
 intercourse with other friends. Not that his rank, or his own 
 valuation of this, raises any barrier between us — far from it! 
 Of anything of this kind there is not the slightest question. 
 But, on the other hand, there is an entire side of my nature, 
 which never appears in my intercourse with Alexander — 
 namely, the light, merry, humorous side; but here, again, it 
 is not that he would be offended by this, but his manner does 
 not invite the expression of it, and he does not enter into 
 it, and respond to it, because there is nothing of the kind in 
 his nature, and therefore I prefer to give him that in me 
 which he likes better — in short, gravity always predominates 
 in our manner towards each other, and our intercourse is 
 ever of a serious nature ; and when I place this thus dis- 
 tinctly before myself, I always feel as if something was 
 wanting. On the other hand, Alexander entertains for me a 
 kind of respect, which is sometimes quite oppressive to me. 
 More particularly when there is anything in me that he does 
 not quite approve of, he would never speak to me about it, 
 unless under very particular circumstances ; as for instance, if 
 it were in connection with public affairs, or if it belonged to 
 the far past ; otherwise he would not have the courage to do 
 so. Such are the limits of our intimacy ; within these we are 
 perfectly open and confidential, and sure of each other. 
 
 [cccli.] ord March, 1809. 
 
 . And now to your last letter. I ought not 
 to have treated your expressions seriously, and yet I did so ; 
 but not because I was not quite aware of how much was said 
 in playfulness and how much in earnest, and that in regard to 
 essential matters there was, in fact, nothing to be cleared 
 up between us. But my name would not be Ernest, if it 
 were not part and parcel of my nature to turn suddenly and 
 unexpectedly from playfulness to earnestness? I have already 
 played you this trick more than once, and in each case as also 
 in the present, it has been the slight degree of earnestness 
 concealed in your expressions that has called forth the great 
 amount in mine — and I was induced to show you, by the 
 
184 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEK. 
 
 manner which I adopted, how thoroughly we are one in ail 
 essentials — just to make you say afterwards, that you entirely 
 agreed with me. Another time I may, most probably, in like 
 manner turn serious matters into sport ; you know this, do 
 you not ? and you belong to the few women who are able to 
 understand it, and with whom, therefore, I can venture upon 
 it ; for not unfrequently it has caused me to be called hard- 
 hearted, sarcastic, and irreligious. Who knows if L 's 
 
 and S 's suspicions, of my not being quite free from 
 
 worldly principles, may not have been caused by something 
 of this kind. Had they addressed themselves to myself on 
 the subject of their doubts and notions respecting the relations 
 to which you allude, I should certainly have felt myself called 
 upon to do everything in my power to make them understand 
 those matters better, and also my feelings in regard to them ; 
 and should you at any future period be able to afford me an 
 opportunity for so doing, you will oblige me much. In such 
 cases, I am always most willing to enter into explanations ; 
 but with men, dearest Jette, I am tremendously cautious. 
 Not, however, when I am alone with one or two men, and 
 when I perceive that any one is really and earnestly anxious 
 to talk over his opinions and mine ; and when I think such 
 discussion may lead to some result, I never fail to seek an 
 opportunity of being alone with him. But in society, there is 
 nothing I hate more, and more studiously avoid, than an 
 approach to anything like a discussion. For the. first, I 
 cannot dispute, without going to such depths in the matter as 
 are not compatible with the light and agreeable tone which 
 ought always to prevail in general society ; and for this 
 reason, I always take up the least important side of the ques- 
 tion, break off, or give it a playful turn, so that it may not 
 become too serious. Secondly, if I hear a disputant put 
 forward vulgar or nonsensical arguments, or such as give 
 evidence of a low mind, I cannot answer ibr what degree 
 of bitterness and asperity my manner may assume. I should 
 like to know who it is in Rügen, who has complained of 
 me in this respect ; and if it be feasible, 1 will try to set 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 185 
 
 matters right again. Frequently, however, my repugnance 
 to entering fully upon a subject, arises from the feeling that I 
 should not be able to do so without becoming prolix and tire- 
 some ; and this feeling of shyness comes over me much 
 
 oftener than you think 
 
 Here, the larks have already begun to sing, and we have 
 had the loveliest spring days. Dearest Jette, how my heart 
 beats with joy when I think of how fast the time is approach- 
 ing when I am to start on my journey ! how near at hand is 
 the new, happy, glorious life on which I am to enter! I am 
 already familiar with its every detail, and often a smile, which 
 no one can understand, plays round my lips when I picture to 
 myself some little circumstance, some little piece of playful- 
 ness, or some short delicious moment, belonging to it. I am 
 so glad that everybody knows what is going to happen, so 
 that I may speak freely about it ; and I am always talking 
 about wife and children, as a man who has grown suddenly 
 rich is always talking about his thousands. 
 
 llmvictte von WiUich to SchleiermacJier. 
 
 [cccui.] 3rd March, 1809. 
 
 Since L has been in Gütemitz, I have again lived 
 
 more with the children, which always makes me very happy. 
 1 do not speak much or often to you about the maternal feel- 
 ing in me, but I feel sure, nevertheless, that you know it, and 
 in what full and deep measure I possess it, and how tranquil 
 happiness aiid secret anxiety alternate in my bosom in regard 
 to the children. But the anxiety will cease when your 
 fatherly eye watches over them, dearest ! Never are Ehren- 
 fried's and your image so intimately and touchingly blended 
 in my BOUl, as when 1 hear the little creatures call you 
 father. 
 
 After I had sent away my last letter, I felt for a moment 
 uneasy as to what impression my constant dwelling on my 
 own imperfections might make upon you. I have often been 
 struck by the great monotony of my letters arising from this 
 
186 LIFE OF SCHLEIEEMACIIER. 
 
 cause, yet I am always impelled to lay bare before you my 
 deficiencies and defects. How greatly would not even my 
 present happiness be enhanced, could I once learn to under- 
 stand myself thoroughly, to be contented with my own 
 nature, and to live with you and the children, without heed- 
 ing myself. Oh, my beloved Ernst, when the great happiness 
 shall be realized, when, pressed heart to heart, I shall feel 
 that you are in reality mine — shall I also feel that all your 
 sweet prophesyings about me arc being fulfilled, or will the 
 sentiment of my own unworthiness follow me even then, and 
 still leave something to be wished for in the midst of our 
 otherwise perfect felicity ? 
 
 Schleierrnacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [cccLin.] No date. 
 
 I wish to adorn you on yoiu* birthday, dearest Jette, 
 and pearls are the ornaments I like best. I would fain have 
 sent you real ones ; for in our life everything must, as far 
 as possible, be real. Pray do not fancy that they signify 
 tears, for this only holds good in regard to dreaming of them. 
 They signify, on the contrary, the most precious product of 
 a quiet, unobtrusive life. 
 
 At whatever hour you receive these lines and the accom- 
 panying little present, you may feel sure that my whole heart 
 is with you at that moment, for it will be so throughout the 
 day, and the longing for you that never leaves me will be 
 more intense than ever on that day, which will in future 
 always find us united in gratitude and joy. God be with 
 you, my darling. I kiss your forehead and your lovely eves, 
 and bless you. Let the image of your Ernst be with you 
 throughout the day, when you dwell with thankl'ul heart on 
 the manner in which Providence has guided us. I also will 
 ] »raise God and thank Him on that day, for having given you 
 to me, for the glorious life that we are about to enter upon, 
 and 1 will pray for strength and power to render each of 
 yoiu- days more happy and more bright ! I wish that I 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 187 
 
 could communicate to all who take part in the sweet happi- 
 ness of our hearts, the deep emotion and jubilant gladness 
 that fills my being. God bless you. Enjoy in richer 
 measure than ever the present in common with the children 
 and with your dear friends, and in remembrance of me, and 
 of the never-to-be-forgotten happy past, and the future so full 
 of hope ; and go on longing to share with me everything 
 that moves your heart, though even as it is, you know that 
 I feel all with you, that your being is merged in mine and 
 mine in yours. 
 
 [cccuv.] 12th March. 
 
 I have spent the greater part of the forenoon in 
 arranging in my head an introduction to one of Plato's 
 dialogues. 1 would -willingly have discarded the subject and 
 sat down at once to chat with you, but I felt that 1 ought not 
 to do so. Most people think me an extraordinary being who 
 can do everything that he wills to do, and whenever he wills 
 to do it. Were I in reality such, I would do ten times as 
 much as I do, and my productions would be very superior 
 to what they are, alas ! But the fact is, that my case is 
 exactly the contrary. I can do nothing, absolutely nothing, 
 by mere force of will, but must await the favourable mo- 
 ment. Therefore, when it comes I should consider myself 
 very culpable were I to let it pass without availing myself 
 of it 
 
 And now let me thank you a thousand times for what 
 you tell me about your birthday — about your feeling so 
 happy and so willing to commence your new course of lili 
 al my side, and about the first thoughts of pious love devoted 
 to me in the morning. You will, I trust, as you say, be 
 happier even next year than this; yet I cannot say that our 
 present and our future stand in the same relation to each 
 other as hope and reality. For have we not already the 
 reality ? Do we not already belong to each other, and do Wt 
 not constitute each other's happiness even now? Has not 
 each penetrated deeply into the life and the sold of the 
 
188 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIEE. 
 
 other? Still, it is true, something more than this even is 
 actual presence, and the power of sharing immediately with 
 each other everything that moves the heart, and of acting 
 together on the sweet children, on all who love us, and on 
 the great and beautiful world that surrounds us. And this 
 blissful present is drawing ever nearer ! . . . . 
 
 Henrietta Herz, as well as yourself, writes me that the 
 sermon could not have been understood by the uneducated. 
 Do you think, then, that my other printed sermons woidd be 
 understood by the uneducated ? You will, indeed, find very 
 few uneducated persons in my church — only a small but 
 select congregation. On the other hand, however, I know 
 that a few simple citizens who come pretty frequently to hear 
 me, understand me very well, and would probably also have 
 understood the sermon in question. But when I am pro- 
 perly installed in the church, I will always compose the 
 afternoon sermon with a special view to the uneducated. 
 
 Henriette von WiUich to Schleiermaeher. 
 
 [ccclv.] 17 th March. 
 S 's and L 's suspicions of a slight intermix- 
 ture of worldliness in your principles (if that be not too 
 strong an expression), arise solely from the fact that they 
 cannot see your relation to Eleanore in other than a repre- 
 hensible light, and so also your sanctioning in other cases at- 
 tachments between persons, one of whom is already bound by 
 marriage. You will hardly be able to make S under- 
 stand how love can be more exalted than a bond, which, 
 though bearing a sacred name, in the cases in question, is 
 not a holy one, and ought, therefore, not to exist. For with 
 exceeding trouble she has worked herself into a kind of love 
 for her husband, and now thinks that every woman may love 
 her husband if he be not a thoroughly bad man. Should 
 you, however, desire to explain yourself on this subject in 
 her presence, I shall try to make an opportunity when you 
 are here, and I will myself listen to you with much satisfac- 
 
LOVE LETTEBS. 189 
 
 tion. However, I cannot help feeling that it is a dangerous 
 experiment to open up the true and higher life to such per- 
 sona as S . For were they really to understand it, the 
 
 greater part of what has hitherto upheld them would give 
 way under their feet ; and yet they would not have the energy 
 
 to recommence life in a new spirit 
 
 I know my names now — Sophie Charlotte. But though I 
 would willingly do you the service to be twenty-two years 
 old, I am in reality but twenty-one. But let me be young — 
 it is my only consolation when I think of my ignorance. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Henriette von Willich. 
 
 [ccclvi.] 28th March, 1809. 
 
 Though it is veiy late, I must give a few minutes to 
 you, dear Jette. At tea-time I read a tragedy of Sophocles 
 to Nanni, and since then I have been occupied in thinking 
 over my Easter sermon, so that I may be able to-morrow 
 morning at breakfast to look out the hymns which are always 
 called for on Wednesday, though they are not to be used 
 until Sunday. I am, therefore, now so far prepared that I 
 need not think of my sermon again until Saturday. It is a 
 real gratification to me, dearest, to think that you look for- 
 ward with pleasure to my sermons! Now already I always 
 think of you while composing them, and calculate the weeks 
 that must pass before you can hear them. Three weeks more 
 and I shall most likely be on the way to you. Yes, you are 
 right, you cannot fail to take an interest in my activity, when 
 you see with what pleasure I carry it on, and that it is not 
 without a blessing. At first it will, indeed, be the sermons 
 that you will be best able to enjoy with me, but the lectures 
 also, I think, you will enter into, when you have witnessed 
 my manner of living with the young men; and in my labours 
 as an author you will also become interested, provided you 
 visit me frequently while they are going on. If, as the most 
 people hope, it is settled that the university is to be opened 
 at Michaelmas, you will see me at work upon a little book 
 
190 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIER. 
 
 this summer already — but only a little academical hand- 
 book. 
 
 I am sure you will often think of me in church during the 
 holidays 
 
 Henriette von Willieh to SehleiermacJtri'. 
 
 [ccclvii.] 30th March, 1809. 
 
 Yesterday it was our Friedchen's birthday. I wished 
 so much to write to yoii, dear father of my little orphans, to 
 express to you my gratitude and my joy, to place our beloved 
 babe in your arms ; and to thank^God in unison with you, for 
 the child and for having given you to him as a father. How 
 vividly I recalled to mind the hour, two years ago, when he 
 Avas born, and how even then the physical suffering did not 
 deaden the grief in my heart, and how conscious I was 
 throughout of my unhappy position, yet how free from dis- 
 content, and how my tears flowed when the child was first 
 laid in my arms. But they were not only tears of sorrow — 
 ah, no ! had my feelings been expressed in words, they would 
 have been words of joy and of thankfulness for the child — my 
 own, dearly loved, fatherless child ! . . . . 
 
 Good Frida// Morning. 
 How I long for you to-day, my Ernst ! Oh, could I 
 but be in your church, and celebrate with you this inexpres- 
 sibly touching and holy day. I cannot tell you what an im- 
 pression this day always makes upon me — with what love and 
 sadness it fills my heart — how the image of the Holy One is 
 present to my soul — how my spirit hovers round his grave in 
 sweet melancholy, and round the hour of his death. Oh, that 
 I were with you ! That my tears could be mingled with those 
 of the pious among' your congregation ! That I could hear 
 the words that will flow from your great heart ! But I sit here 
 solitary, in front of your picture, thrown back upon my own 
 feelings alone, and the day will go by without my participat- 
 ing in any solemnization of the sacred festival of sorrow. But 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 191 
 
 you, I know, will be with me in spirit, and will allow your love 
 for me to blend, with your pious sentiments, as mine do in 
 
 regard to you 
 
 2nd April. 
 . . . Our feiend will be understood by few persons 
 here — thoroughly understood perhaps by none. Of such ex- 
 traordinary delicacy and conscientiousness as reigns here in 
 the better circles, I think the world in general can have 
 no conception. Even the men possess the same. On first 
 acquaintance I thought it very attractive, but on looking 
 deeper into it, it gives me an impression of great hollowness, 
 — I mean in as far as it exceeds true, natural delicacy, and 
 seems to me to be the result of the narrow limits within which 
 they live, and perhaps also of a defective education. Verbally 
 I shall be better able to explain to you what I mean, and when 
 I do this, you must tell me exactly what you think. 
 
 Scldeiermacher to Henriette von WiUicli. 
 
 [ccclviii.] 10th April, 1809. 
 
 A cloud is drawing up over our immediate future, 
 through which I cannot as yet see. Dohna writes to me that 
 the erection of the University here has again become uncer- 
 tain in consequence of the objections raised by certain parties, 
 who consider the measure dangerous, or the success doubtful. 
 My foreboding that we should not remain long in the Can- 
 noneer House,* seems therefore likely to come true ; for if no 
 university is erected here, it is possible that we may sooner or 
 later go to Francfort, because under the circumstances, I should 
 neither be able to find a proper sphere of activity here, nor 
 to secure a sufficient income. For the moment, at all events, 
 this uncertainty places me in a great economical predicament. 
 One thing, however, I have firmly resolved, and that is, that 
 neither economical nor political difficulties shall make me 
 defer our union even a day. I am sure you will think as I 
 do in regard to this, and that you feel the same perfect confi- 
 
 * Schleiermacher was then living in Cannoneer Street. 
 
192 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 dence that the necessities of life will not fail us. It is just 
 possible that Humboldt, who has gone to Königsberg, may set 
 the matter going again. Had I known sooner of the great 
 uncertainty relative to the University, I would have refrained 
 from many expenses connected with our future home, and 
 now you must be prepared for my being as economical as 
 possible, and for the house being for the present very imper- 
 fectly furnished. But I trust, dear Jette, that your entrance 
 into it Avill not be the less joyful, because of the want of these 
 earthly matters ; this will not trouble our pure sense of hap- 
 piness. As lightly and as gaily as I saw you the first time we 
 met, skipping about and culling flowers, on the brink of the 
 precipice at Stubbenkammer, you "will, I am sure, skip about 
 on the brink of the dark times before us, culling as many 
 flowers as it offers. Thus you stand before me, my precious 
 one, and I embrace you with the truest affection and the most 
 joyful confidence. You, and you alone can be my companion 
 through life. But you have already long been asleep. I have 
 been writing to Dohna, and in the meanwhile the night has 
 advanced. 
 
 Be not uneasy, dear Jette, about the opinions entertained 
 of me by people in general. To me this is nothing new, and 
 is not of the slightest importance. It cannot be otherwise 
 than that a great many persons must misunderstand me, that 
 some must dislike me, and that to othei-s I must be a thorn in 
 the flesh. To alter this, it would be necessary that my inner- 
 most being should alter, and surely you would not have this. 
 In consequence of these misunderstandings, a number of calum- 
 nies and idle gossipings, baseless stories and false surmises, 
 and other such like, are set afloat from time to time, but I go 
 on my way undisturbed, without looking to the right or to 
 the left. I am best pleased when I hear nothing about them ; 
 but when they do reach my ears, I do not heed them. They 
 very seldom trouble me for more than an instant; fur, on the 
 one hand, I have a great talent for forgetting, and on the 
 other, I feel myself so far above these matters, that even when 
 I know and remember that a person has been saying all kinds 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 193 
 
 of ill-natured and foolish things about nie, it does not in the 
 slightest degree influence my conduct towards him; and, upon 
 the whole, I have as little tendency to vindictiveness as to 
 jealousy. The calm manner in which I take it, indeed, often 
 causes a storm to blow over, but not always before it has sown 
 tlie seeds of a new one. Such has been my w r ay of proceed- 
 ing during fifteen years — first in a smaller and now in a 
 wider sphere, — and I cannot say that it has in any way 
 interfered with my activity ; at all events, not half so much 
 as if I had been less independent and had sacrificed any of 
 my natural characteristics, and had thus from the very com- 
 mencement lamed my own powers. I do not know what it 
 can be that is rendering Alexander so anxious at the present 
 moment, except it be some false reports that have reached the 
 ears of his colleagues, or perhaps even of the king, and which 
 may be interfering with some of his projects in regard to me. 
 But perhaps it is all the better that it should be so. Never- 
 theless, I should be very sorry were the king in any way to 
 misjudge me in this instance, when he may so easily see the 
 truth. I should, however, regard it as a simple, natural event, 
 and let it pass by as such 
 
 . . . . »Something in one of your last letters which 
 gave me great pleasure has just recurred to my mind, I do 
 not know why. I mean the purely objective view which vou 
 are able to take of certain peculiarities in the people who 
 surround you, without allowing yourself to be influenced by 
 them. I think these peculiarities are not so much a fault of 
 education in their case, as the result of their limited expe- 
 rience, and their consequent ignorance of many ways in which 
 human nature may develop itself, which renders them inca- 
 pable of appreciating many of the more beautiful sides of 
 this, which they, on the contrary, confound with sentiments 
 and actions which they have always been accustomed to see 
 connected with a certain amount of grossness. I had pre- 
 viously discovered numerous similarities between England 
 and Rügen. This is another and a very striking one, at least 
 so far as the women are concerned. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
194 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 [ccclix.] IGth Ajwil, 1809. 
 
 I cannot possibly abstain from writing to yon, dearly 
 beloved soul, for I partook communion a few hours ago, and 
 although various worldly matters have obtruded themselves 
 in the interval, in sitting down to write to you the solemn 
 impression returns to my mind. "With prayer I have conse- 
 crated our union as a Christian marriage. I have prayed that 
 throughout life we may be filled with true piety, and holy, 
 divine love ; that our thoughts and our actions may ever be 
 directed towards all that is good, and that Ave may ever seek 
 this for ourselves and for our children. In this spirit, I have 
 laid our hearts before God as an offering, and have com- 
 mended ourselves to Him ; and it was an inexpressible blessing 
 to know that you were united with me, at the same hour, in 
 similar feelings and prayers. 
 
 Oh, how we shall share in future every such holy emotion ! — 
 no pious moment enjoyed by the one will be lost to the other! 
 
 The publishing of my own banns went off capitally ; but 
 Nanni says she was in a tremendous fright the whole time. 
 She and I went afterwards into the garden, where the rose- 
 bushes are already beginning to bud, and marked out the 
 grass plot for the children to gambol upon. The gambolling 
 will indeed be restricted within somewhat narrow bounds, for 
 the whole garden is not as large as half the house at Poseritz, 
 and, for the present, we have marked out one quarter of it 
 only for grass, another for strawberries, a third for flowers, 
 and the fourth for pot-herbs and other such things. In addi- 
 tion to this, the garden contains two fruit trees and one acacia 
 
 and a-half, which form an arbour 
 
 . With what joy I announce to you that this 
 will be my last letter ; but I must break off abruptly, merely 
 adding that I am very well, and that you must, once for all, 
 dispense with my taking care of myself. It would kill me, 
 were I to do so ; and when you have seen how unnaturally 
 prudence sits upon me, I am sine you will give up recom- 
 mending it. 
 
LOVE LETTERS. 19.5 
 
 War has at length broken out, thank God ! but in our own 
 conntry I am afraid everything will remain more tranquil 
 than is to be desired, and anything that will interfere with 
 oar journey I do not in the least anticipate. And afterwards, 
 come what will, you will be mine, my beloved, my only one ! 
 For ever and entirely thine ! 
 
 o 2 
 
198 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACnER. 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 FROM SCHLEIERMACHER'S MARRIAGE IN MAY, 1809, 
 UNTIL HIS DEATH, 12th FEBRUARY, 1834. 
 
 From the time of his marriage until his death, Schleier- 
 macher resided permanently in Berlin, in -which place, 
 while pursuing a laborious career of wide-spreading 
 public activity and usefulness, he became the centre 
 of a most happy and exemplary domestic life, and of 
 a large and interesting social circle, and to many, far 
 and near, the object of a devoted affection, which he 
 returned in full measure. The pulpit, the professional 
 chair, the academy of sciences, extensive literary under- 
 takings, participation (at least for a time) in the adminis- 
 tration of the State, his duties as a member of the Poor- 
 law Directory, and other public offices, in addition to the 
 claims of family and social life, fully occupied his time, 
 and in consequence, as before observed, such consecutive 
 and circumstantial records of his internal life, as his 
 previous correspondence affords, do not exist in regard to 
 this period, except in his written works. As early even 
 as the year 1810 we find him, in a letter to Charlotte 
 von Käthen, excusing himself for writing so seldom, as 
 compared to formerly, with the fact that he was no 
 
DOMESTIC LIFE. 197 
 
 longer a single individual, and that when his wife wrote 
 it was the same as if he wrote himself. 
 
 Schleiermacher used to travel every autumn, mostly 
 with his wife and children: sometimes, however, these 
 vacation rambles or journeys in quest of health, were 
 undertaken alone, or in company with other friends, and 
 sometimes he remained at home, while wife and children 
 went abroad. Retaining, after his marriage as before, 
 that irrepressible desire for constant communication of 
 thought and feeling to those he loved best, which had 
 given rise to his earlier correspondence, the separations 
 caused by these various journey ings each time called 
 forth anew the activity of Schleiermacher's pen in cor- 
 respondence with his wife. However, there was but 
 seldom occasion to enter minutely in these letters into 
 questions regarding his outward or his inward life, and 
 the contents have mostly no further interest than such 
 as is connected with a cursory description of the little 
 events of the journey, and the impressions received from 
 the countries visited. They afford, nevertheless, in a 
 certain measure, a consecutive picture of Schleier- 
 macher's life with his wife and children, and give an 
 idea of the spirit that pervaded his home ; and for this 
 reason these unpretending letters, among which are in- 
 cluded a few to other friends, as also extracts from the 
 parents to the eldest son (Ehrenfried von Willich)* when 
 
 * Nearly all of these being from the mother, and containing merely 
 motherly admonitions and expressions of affection, the greater num- 
 ber have been excluded by the translator as having no bearing upon 
 Schleiermacher's life, and only such have been retained as contain 
 descriptions of the events of home life in which he is concerned. These 
 
IÖ8. LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIEE. 
 
 absent at school or at the university, are here given, in 
 order in some measure to fill up the gap which this 
 work would otherwise present. 
 
 [Respecting Schleiermacher's taste for social inter- 
 course, we learn from Henrietta Herz,* who returned 
 to Berlin after an improvement had taken place in 
 her pecuniary position, and who was a constant member 
 of Schleiermacher's circle, that " the lovingness and 
 sociableness of his nature was so great, that although 
 intellectually-inciting conversation was most agreeable 
 to him, he nevertheless also found great pleasure in 
 intercourse with individuals who were not in point of 
 mind on a level with him, and who were even mentally 
 insignificant, the heart and the disposition alone being 
 always sufficient to attract him. In consequence his 
 social relations were very numerous, and took tip a 
 great deal of his time, and perhaps, indeed, were 
 chiefly the cause of his not having had leisure during 
 his lifetime to prepare his lectures for publication. It 
 is true that he had the power of working at any time, 
 his mind being always sufficiently collected for the pur- 
 pose ; but for this very reason he was ever inclined to 
 think that he should be able to accomplish more than 
 proved actually to be the case. He very rarely refused 
 an invitation, and also saw a great deal of company at 
 his own house ; but frequently after the most luxurious 
 
 eliminations, as also various curtailments in the wife's letters to her 
 husband, have been made with the greater confidence, as the extracts 
 that remain, suffice to show the development or changes that have 
 taken place in her character. 
 * Leben und Erinnerungen. 
 
CHARACTER OF HIS SEBM0S6. 199 
 
 and hilarious dinner-party or supper-party, he would 
 sit down to his writing-table, in a moment be absorbed 
 in the deepest speculations, and work far into the night. 
 When it so happened that he had to preach the next 
 day, and his drawing-room was full of company, he 
 would draw aside for about a quarter of an hoar, taking 
 up his stand close to the stove, and looking thoughtfully 
 straight before him. His more intimate friends were 
 aware that at such moments he was reflecting on his 
 sermon, and took care that he should not be disturbed. 
 In a short while he was again a lively participator in 
 the conversation going on ; but in the interval he had 
 jotted down a lew notes with pencil on a slip of paper, 
 and this was all that was ever written of his sermons 
 before they were preached ; yet I have frequently 
 heard him the next morning, after a preparation seem- 
 ingly so insufficient, deliver the most deeply-reflected 
 and deeply-felt discourse." 
 
 Relative to this mode of composing his sermons, 
 which, as is shown in his letters to his father, he had 
 adopted very early in life, Lücke says : * "It is well 
 known that Schleiermacher never wrote his sermons 
 before delivering them. All those that have been pub- 
 lished were taken down during delivery. While 1 was 
 a constant hearer of his, two young friends were alwa\ s 
 engaged in this work. Those persons who were aware 
 of this felt higher admiration for the great «rifts of the 
 man. The sermon could not be said to have come into 
 existence in the pulpit, in as far as it was generally con- 
 ceived in his mind several days previously, and left as 
 
 * Erinnerungen an Scldcicrmaelier. Studien und Kritiken, 1834. 
 
200 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 it were to mature there until the moment of delivery. 
 But no part of it was committed to paper while I lived 
 with him, except the text and the theme, which was noted 
 down on Saturday evening, and at the most, in addition 
 to this, the heads of the divisions of the latter. This he 
 called writing his slip, and thus prepared he entered the 
 pulpit. Here the sermon took definite form, the mode 
 of representation and the detailed execution being the 
 living product, not only of the preceding reflection, but 
 also of the animating impression produced by the as- 
 sembled congregation, and of the never-failing power of 
 his mind over the order of his thoughts, and his equally 
 unfailing command of language. Those who knew the 
 secret could follow the growth of the artistic structure 
 of his discourse. They perceived how, at first, he spoke 
 slowly and deliberately, somewhat in the ordinary tone 
 of conversation, as if gathering and marshalling his 
 thoughts ; then, after awhile, when he had, as it were, 
 spread out and again drawn together the entire net of 
 his thoughts, his words flowed faster, the discourse be- 
 came more animated, and the nearer he drew towards 
 the encouraging or admonishing peroration, the fuller 
 and the richer flowed the stream. He was ever the 
 same and always equally attractive by the original 
 manner in which he treated his text, by the novelty 
 and freshness of his thoughts, by the order and clear- 
 ness of his mode of representation, and the fluency of 
 his delivery. When your attention was not too much 
 engaged with the thoughts, you might often have an 
 opportunity of admiring how, though giving way to 
 that liking for complicated periods, which rendered his 
 
CIIAK ACTER OF HIS SERMONS. 201 
 
 style so peculiar, he, even in the midst of the most com- 
 plicated, ever found the most appropriate term, and 
 never lost the clue which led him "with certainty to the 
 conclusion. He had modes of expression peculiar to 
 himself, and also a sphere of thought peculiar to him- 
 self. But the richness of his mind and the fulness of 
 Christian life in him never allowed any of the ordinary 
 defects of extemporary preaching to be apparent in his 
 sermons, and caused one to contemplate with unalloyed 
 pleasure his wonderful mastery of the homiletic art 
 and the rich fruits that it bore. A person who only 
 heard Schleiermacher preach once, might fear that his 
 manner was not popular enough, and that he would 
 not be easily understood by the less cultivated among 
 his cono-reijation. But when you heard him con- 
 secutively this fear vanished. It is true he expected 
 a good deal from his hearers, yet in reality no more 
 than attention and familiarity with the Scriptures ; and 
 as he knew how to rivet the attention of the less 
 educated by the freshness and vivacity of his mode of 
 delivery, and by his constant application of even the 
 deepest Christian ideas to practical life, and to the 
 actual conditions of the Church, of family life and of 
 the fatherland, this explains how it was that, although 
 his congregation mostly belonged to the educated classes, 
 persons of the lower ranks, and even belonging to other 
 congregations, were constantly seen in his church. I 
 believe that this portion of his congregation steadily 
 increased, for just as his whole system of theology was 
 ever in living progression, so also the fervour and Chris- 
 tian simplicity of his mode of preaching increased year 
 
202 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEB. 
 
 by year in proportion as his experience was enlarged, 
 and his inward life expanded." 
 
 The active part which Schleiermacher took in the 
 political associations formed by the patriots of Germany 
 while their country was sighing under the yoke of 
 France, has been shown in various of his letters; and 
 the principles which actuated him herein were carried 
 out in the pulpit also. " We also, the preachers of 
 peace," he says, in a letter to Karl von Raumer,* " if 
 we have not all seized the sword, have at least had 
 recourse to the telling battery of words, and have from 
 the holy altar called the people to battle, to share in the 
 life and death struggle. You know that I look upon it 
 as an essential condition for the development of a 
 people to a truly Christian, i. e. a free state, that its 
 peculiar nationality should be relieved from the pres- 
 sure of foreign dominion The purer and 
 
 more righteous our cause is in the eyes of God, the 
 more we ought to make it our object to preserve this 
 purity. Once already our presumption has led to our 
 fall, and therefore it seems to me to be my essential 
 duty to warn the people that we ought not to be vain- 
 glorious, and that we ought not to begin the impending 
 straggle without confessing our sins, and acknowledo-ino- 
 that we have well deserved the chastisement." 
 
 The character of, and effect produced by the sermons 
 inspired by these sentiments is graphically described by 
 bishop Eilert,t in reference to one special occasion. " It 
 
 * Erinnerungen aus den Jahren 1813 und 1814. 
 
 f Charakterzüge und Historische Fragmente aus dem Lebendes Königs 
 von Preussen. 
 
CHARACTER OF HIS SERMONS. 203 
 
 was in the great year 1813," says the bishop, " when 
 after the heavy judgment of the Lord of the elements had 
 fallen upon the Emperor Napoleon on the ice-fields of 
 Russia, the Prussian people, called to arms by their 
 king to liberate the oppressed and ill-treated fatherland, 
 awoke and, with a blight flame of enthusiasm kindled in 
 every breast, prepared for the difficult and serious task. 
 The whole of Berlin was in a state of inward and out- 
 ward commotion, and the students of the university and 
 the gymnasium, who were about to start for Breslau as 
 volunteers, in uniforms and armed, had in a body re- 
 quested Schleiermacher to deliver a sermon and ad- 
 minister the sacrament to them immediately before their 
 departure, thus to consecrate them for their holy under- 
 taking. Their firearms were piled in front or rested 
 against the walls of the church of the Holv Trinity. 
 The beautiful old hymn, ' In all my acts,' sung with 
 heartfelt effusion, had attuned the minds of the congre- 
 gation to the proper pitch of solemnity. After having 
 pronounced a short prayer, full of unction, Schleier- 
 
 macher went up into the pulpit There, in 
 
 this holy place and at this solemn hour, stood the 
 physically so small and insignificant man, his noble 
 countenance beaming with intellect, and his clear, sonor- 
 ous, penetrating voice ringing through the overflowing- 
 church. Speaking from his heart with pious enthusiasm, 
 his every word penetrated to the heart, and the clear, 
 full, mighty stream of his eloquence carried every one 
 along with it. His bold, frank declaration of the causes 
 of our deep fall, his severe denunciation of our actual 
 defects, as evinced in the narrow-hearted spirit of caste, 
 
204 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 of proud aristocratism, and in the dead forms of bureau- 
 cratism, struck down like thunder and lightning, and 
 the subsequent elevation of the heart to God on the 
 wings of solemn devotion, was like harp-tones from a 
 higher world. The discourse proceeded in an uninter- 
 rupted stream, and every word was from the times and 
 for the times. And when, at last, with the full fire 
 of enthusiasm, he addressed the noble youths already 
 equipped for battle, and next turning to their mothers, 
 the greater number of whom were present, he concluded 
 with the words : ' Blessed is the womb that has borne 
 such a son, blessed the breast that has nourished such 
 a babe,' — a thrill of deep emotion ran through the 
 assembly, and amid loud sobs and weeping, Schleier- 
 macher pronounced the conclusive Amen." 
 
 Wilhelm von Humboldt, also, in his well-known letters 
 to a female friend, bears testimony to Schleiermacher's 
 wonderful power in the pulpit. " Of Schleiermacher,' 
 he says, " it may be said, as of the greater number of 
 very distinguished persons, but in an incomparably 
 higher degree, that their speaking exceeded their 
 writings in power. Those, therefore, who may have 
 read his numerous writings ever so diligently, but who 
 have never heard him speak, must nevertheless remain 
 unacquainted with the most rare power and the most 
 remarkable qualities of the man. His strength lay in 
 the deeply penetrative character of his words, when 
 preaching or engaged in any other of his ecclesiastical 
 functions. It would be wrong to call it rhetoric, for 
 it was so entirely free from art. It was the persua- 
 sive, penetrative, kindling effusion of a feeling, which 
 
OPINIONS ON CHURCH REFORM. 205 
 
 seemed not so much to be enlightened by one of the 
 rarest intellects, as to move side by side with it in 
 perfect unison." 
 
 Schleiermachers activity in church matters was in 
 accordance with the whole tendency of his religious 
 character. He took a lively part in the proposed reform, 
 which was to give to the church of Prussia a synodal 
 constitution in lieu of the existing bureaucratic abso- 
 lutism. The principles on which he acted in regard to 
 this question,* are expressed as follows in a paper on the 
 subject written by him in 1817 : " As in a truly free 
 state-constitution, which necessarily depends upon the 
 zeal and affection of the citizens, everything is based on 
 a free and living communal system, from which springs 
 all true interest in the legislation, and in which the 
 executive finds its best support and its greatest strength; 
 so also it would be vain to attempt to touch and to im- 
 prove the constitution of the clergy, if the reform to be 
 introduced be not founded on a well-organized Christian 
 presbyterian system. The Protestant Church consists, 
 in truth, of the totality of the Protestant communities, 
 
 and the clergy are only their servants If 
 
 we be in reality in earnest in our desire to exercise our 
 office in the most blessed wav, we churchmen ouo-ht to 
 wish for nothing more sincerely or more urgently than 
 the institution of rather extensive assemblies of elders, 
 based upon the free election of the community, which 
 would draw closer the bonds between us and the com- 
 munity, which would enable the latter to gain a deeper 
 
 * Gutachten über die für die Protestantische Kirche des Preussisc/ten 
 Staates einzurichtende Synodal Verfassung. 
 
206 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 insight into the tendency and character of our office, and 
 would put us in a position to correct their judgment of 
 us in an unconstrained manner, and to counteract pre- 
 judice and fickleness ; which would further enable us to 
 render intelligible to them and to explain the grounds of 
 such matters as may be determined in the ecclesiastical 
 synods, and to awaken their zeal in favour hereof, as 
 also to prove to the world that much that we have long 
 wished for in vain, in regard to the dignity of public 
 worship, to the upholding of ecclesiastical freedom, and 
 in reference to certain unchristian acts and relations, is 
 not only our wish, but that of the Christian communities 
 themselves, which have hitherto only wanted a recog- 
 nized and Wal form through which to make themselves 
 known." 
 
 In another question, of still greater importance to his 
 country, Schleiermacher took an active and very decisive 
 part — namely, the question of the union of the Lutheran 
 and Reformed Churches in Prussia, which had been a 
 favourite idea of his long before it was proposed by the 
 king. His views on this subject arc expressed in a 
 compendious form, in the subjoined passage, from a 
 pamphlet addressed by him to Dr. Amnion, in refer- 
 ence to the opposition raised against the union by the 
 original Lutheran clergyman, Clans Harms, in Kiel, 
 who had republished, on the occasion, Luther's famous 
 ninety-five theses, with the addition of ninety-five of 
 his own, and who declared the union to be an apostacy 
 from Lutheranism and from Christianity. 
 
 " Harms," says Schleiermacher, " regards the subject 
 from a point of view, from which Lutheranism appears 
 
OPINIONS ON CHURCH REFORM. 207 
 
 to him as identical with Evangelical Protestantism and 
 Christianity. But Luther and Melancthon, Calvin and 
 Zwingle, and their various fellow-labourers, were not 
 creators of a new state of things, but merely instru- 
 ments in the hands of divine Providence, and it is, and 
 ever will be their highest glory that they were found 
 worthy to be such. They produced nothing new, but 
 merely cleansed the old doctrine from the rubbish that 
 had been heaped upon it, so that it could appear again 
 in its pristine purity, and commend itself thus to men. 
 The work of the Reformation was not, therefore, to 
 found a Lutheran Church — against which, indeed, no 
 one protested more warmly than Luther himself — nor 
 was it to found a Reformed Church, but to brinir forth 
 in renewed glory the Evangelical Church, which is 
 guided and governed by its founder, Jesus Christ, the 
 eternal Son of God. He is the quickening centre of 
 the Church ; from Him comes all, to Him all returns : 
 He is Beginning and End: in Him we believe, and 
 through Him alone we are blessed. . . . We ouo-ht 
 not, therefore, to call ourselves Lutheran nor Reformed, 
 but we ought to call ourselves Evangelical Christians, 
 after His name and His holy evangel ; for in our name 
 our faith and our confession ought to be made known." 
 
 The same liberal principles that guided Schleier- 
 macher, in regard to the ecclesiastical matters already 
 mentioned, led him strenuously to oppose the proposal 
 which was being mooted in high governmental circles, 
 to make subscription to the confession of the Evan- 
 gelical Church compulsory and binding, though at the 
 same time he expressed a wish that a form might be 
 
208 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 adopted according to which every Evangelical Christian 
 should, on ordination, declare his concurrence in the 
 condemnation of the tenets of the Roman Church, con- 
 tained in the symbolical books of the Church. 
 
 In the question of the reform of the liturgy and of 
 the hymn-book, which, though less important, caused as 
 great excitement at the time as any of the foregoing, 
 Schleiermacher also took a prominent part, and in addi- 
 tion to the sharp polemical warfare, and the numerous 
 enmities resulting from this, to which these various 
 questions gave rise, Schleiermacher was in this later 
 period of his life subjected to many other annoyances, 
 which never, however, disturbed the equanimity of his 
 mind, or troubled that happiness which he drew from a 
 source far deeper than those whence these annoyances 
 sprung. When, after the glorious war of liberation in 
 1813-15 the reaction set in, Schleiermacher became 
 an object of suspicion in the highest circles, like most 
 of the men who had infused into the nation the spirit 
 which had driven the foreigner out of the land, but 
 which was now to be quelled, lest it might insist witli 
 too much vigour on the fulfilment of the promises made 
 by the sovereign in the hour of need. Having been 
 denounced to the king for some expressions used in a 
 circle of what he supposed to be confidential friends, he 
 remained for a long time under apprehensions that he 
 might lose his position as professor at the university, 
 like Arndt and De Wette, and many others, who, in 
 consequence of the prevailing system of espionage and 
 denunciation, were either suspended or dismissed. In a 
 letter dated March, 1820, to Arndt, who in 1827 had 
 
SUSPICIONS OF REACTIONARY TARTY. 209 
 
 married his sister Nanni, lie says : " For the last fort- 
 night the city has again been full of the rumour of my 
 dismissal. The fact upon which this is based, is that 
 the State-chancellor has demanded to see the documents 
 of the faculty referring to De Wette's dismissal, and that 
 thereupon Schulz has made many inquiries as to what 
 toasts I had proposed on the 9th, at the festival in honour 
 of the general arming, celebrated by the students. Cer- 
 tain expressions of well-informed men which have come 
 to my ears, give me reason to think that hostile inten- 
 tions towards me have really been seriously entertained; 
 but I have been told by the same persons, within the 
 last few days, that the matter may now be considered as 
 having blown over, and thus it seems that this time at 
 least grace has triumphed over disgrace. However, the 
 documents have not yet been returned, so I must not 
 sin£ paeans too soon." And again in 1823 he writes: 
 " The projected journey is more especially important to 
 me, because I wish to look out for a spot in Germany 
 where it would be possible to live, in case of matters 
 going wrong. For though as regards yourself, you may 
 be quite right in thinking of England, I would be of 
 no earthly use beyond the limits of Germany, and 
 within these, I should prefer above all others a consti- 
 tutional country in which the two Confessions are 
 united."* It was these and various other annoyances that 
 induced him to think of retiring ultimately to some 
 quiet country parsonage, as frequently alluded to in 
 his letters, and also to the contemplation of possible 
 poverty, which is hinted at therein. However, his real 
 
 * E. M. Arndt. Nothgedrumjcner Bericht aus meinem Leben. 
 VOL. II. P 
 
210 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 devotion to the king, which went hand in hand Avith 
 devotion to constitutional liberty, seems at last to have 
 been recognized, and in 1831 the order of the Red 
 Eagle was bestowed upon Schleiermacher. 
 
 In 1829, however, an affliction for which there is no 
 earthly consolation, fell upon Schleiermacher. His only 
 and dearly beloved son, Nathanael, was taken away by 
 death in that year, when only nine years old. This 
 event, which is not mentioned in any of the letters in- 
 cluded in the present collection, is touchingly alluded to 
 in the following extract of a letter from Schleiermacher 
 to his friend, Gass, which also proves him to be pos- 
 sessed in old age of the same calm power of self-com- 
 mand, that distinguished him in the strength of manhood: 
 — " I am very thankful to Ohl," he says, " for having 
 taken upon himself to convey to you the first accounts 
 of the heavy calamity that has fallen upon us. ... 
 Since the boy had begun to attend the gymnasium, I 
 looked upon it as my special vocation to take him under 
 my more particular guidance. Ultimately I had ar- 
 ranged it so that he studied in my room, and thus I may 
 say there was no hour in the day in which I did not 
 think of the boy, and occupy myself with him, and now 
 in consequence I miss him every hour. But there is 
 nothing to be done but to resign myself, and to labour 
 to transform the character of my grief. For struggle 
 against it I will not and cannot, and give myself up 
 to it I know I must not. On the day of his burial 
 already, I began to attend to all my duties as pre- 
 viously, and life goes on in its old grooves, but more 
 slowly and more heavily. My health seems not to have 
 
COMPOSITION OF FAMILY. 211 
 
 suffered. My wife also, who, from the Monday until 
 his death (it is a fortnight since to-day) never moved 
 from his bed, has kept up wonderfully."* And then he 
 passes on to speak of other matters with his usual inte- 
 rest, and to enter intu the joys of his friends with his 
 usual sympathy. The discourse pronounced over the 
 child's grave is one of his most celebrated. In addition 
 to this son, Schleicrmacher's wife had borne him two 
 daughters, and the family was further increased by the 
 adoption of a child of one of his half-sisters who died in 
 Gallicia, and the child of a friend, both of whom, as also 
 the two children of his wife by her former marriage, 
 were cherished and educated by him as his own. His 
 sister Nanni's place was, after her marriage, taken by 
 the elder sister Charlotte, the early friend of his boy- 
 hood and youth. ]t 
 
 SchleievmacJtcr to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [cccia.] Berlin, 3rd August, 1809. 
 
 It is all the delights of our iicav life that prevent Jette 
 and myself from writing. We are much together, and besid« is 
 this, each has his and her own occupations. I have my pro- 
 fessional duties to attend to, with a host of disagreeable petty 
 l natters, which arc quite new to me, besides a volume of 
 Plato that is going through the press; and Jette is still busy 
 with various household arrangements. In addition to this, 
 we are endeavouring to enjoy as much of the summer as we 
 can, at least in the Thiergarten. Yesterday we were for the 
 
 * Schleiermachu's Briefwechsel mit T. C. Gase. 
 
 f The parts inserted between brackets are not included in the 
 German edition, but have been added by the translator as a feeble 
 attempt to supplement what the last section of the letters leaves to 
 be desired. 
 
 P 2 
 
212 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 first time a whole day in the country with the children, and 
 romped to our hearts' content. To-day the whole city has 
 been in a state of intense bustle from the early morn, it being 
 the king's birthday. Your heart, dear sister, is full of joyful 
 hope for the fate of the world ; in mine this hope has almost 
 been quenched as regards the immediate future, and to-day 
 the thought has frequently forced itself upon me, that this 
 may be the last festival of the kind that we shall celebrate. 
 Should it not be so, and matters turn out more favourably 
 than I expect, then my worldly position will also very soon be 
 satisfactorily settled. 
 
 That our dear friend Herz has gone to Prenzlau for a few 
 days, you will no doubt learn from herself. We miss her much 
 in every way, and the lectures I delivered to the three ladies 
 have in consequence been interrupted. What you write to me, 
 dearest sister, about communicating the letters of friends too 
 generally to other friends, was probably written with a special 
 view to her. You are, however, mistaken on this point, and 
 even the Monologues might have enlightened you on the 
 subject ; I feel exactly as you do, that perfect friendship must 
 in every case be a strictly personal relationship; and although 
 it is very delightful to make one's friends acquainted with 
 each other, there is of course a natural limit which ought not 
 to be overstepped. And this limit I am sure we both equally 
 recognize in the present case, for I know full well how far 
 you have got with Henrietta Herz, and what distance still 
 separates you, and I do not believe that I should ever com- 
 municate to her any parts of your letters that you would dis- 
 approve of. But if you mean that you might say things to 
 me, which you would not wish me to communicate to my 
 wife, you must write to me more explicitly about this ; for 
 although I can conceive the possibility of this being the case, 
 I should not have the proper tact in the matter, without your 
 direct guidance. However, I should certainly act in accord- 
 ance with your wishes, and allow }'our words to reach no other 
 ear than my own, as long as such should be your pleasure. 
 For your unbounded confidence is of infinite value to me, 
 
FIRST YEARS OF MARRIED LIFE. 213 
 
 and I would not forfeit it for a great deal, even independently 
 of the beneficial effect 1 know it has upon yourself. Yes, 
 dearest Lotte, let this sweet confidence continue undisturbed ; 
 be assured that I shall ever guard it as a precious treasure. 
 
 Your faithful Brother. 
 
 [ccclxi.] Berlin, Ath November, 1801). 
 
 Accept my sincere thanks, dear sister, for your little 
 note, and a little note also in return this time ; for I can 
 only steal a moment from my necessary occupations which are 
 daily increasing. I cannot describe to you what a pleasure it 
 has been to me to make Jette and the children acquainted 
 with my relatives, and to show her my beautiful native 
 country ; and I still congratulate myself upon having seized 
 the opportunity that offered, though it may have been a little 
 imprudent from the economical point of view. The enjoyment 
 we have derived from the journey will be a lasting one, and 
 the toll which was levied upon us in the shape of mishaps 
 and disappointments, was so slight compared to the length of 
 time, that we may in fact consider ourselves as having come 
 off scot-free. In regard to the university — the accounts of 
 the proposed erection of which I received just after our arrival 
 in Gnadenfrei — I still fear to give myself up to my joy. It 
 does not at all seem clear to me that our present tranquillity 
 will remain undisturbed, and that the existing order of things 
 will be maintained. 
 
 Your little note has saved you from a serious scolding that 
 I was about- to give you because, just as you had settled the 
 conditions of the most unconstrained and thorough-going cor- 
 respondence between us, you ceased to write altogether. 
 
 Farewell, sister of my heart, and write soon. Greet and 
 kiss all the children from me, remember me to grandmamma, 
 and say to all who care for me, that I had long been silent, 
 but that I shall soon begin to write again. 
 
 [ccclxii.] Berlin, 2(Jth April, 1810. 
 
 You are right, dearest sister. I have postponed writing 
 far too long, and you will do me a great service by not asking 
 
214 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 how this has happened. I saw one day that Jette was giving 
 you a little sketch of our life, and more particularly of my 
 doings, and this is all the excuse I have to offer. Formerly, 
 it is true, I was equally busy, and yet I found time for 
 writing ; but then I was still a single man. That is in fact 
 the great point, which you will know how to explain to your- 
 self in detail, taking into consideration among other things, 
 that when Jette writes it. is the same as if I had written, only 
 that I am sure she does it much better than I should. If I could 
 but describe to you how entirely I am absorbed in my work, 
 and in my home. It is an inexpressible happiness, but also a 
 great misery. Home and business stand hostilely arrayed 
 against each other, and interfere very much with each other ; 
 for in the midst of my work the thought of Jette and the 
 children will intrude, and on the other hand, when I am with 
 the latter the thought of my Avork will come into my head. 
 In short, I retain my motto : " Man is a troubled indi- 
 vidual." .... 
 
 Your birthday we celebrated in the most beautiful manner. 
 We took the Communion on that day, and afterwards Hen- 
 rietta Herz dined with us, and we drank your health. Con- 
 tinue to remember us with affection. 
 
 [ccclxiii.] 21 th December, 1810. 
 
 Dearest sister, the longed-for happiness has come, and 
 come so gloriously ! On Christmas Eve Jette was still quite 
 brisk, was making preparations for young and old, and went 
 with me to the Reimers to witness the Christmas joys there. 
 Towards nine o'clock we returned home, and before midnight 
 the little girl was happily ushered into the world, strong and 
 healthy, and with its little head covered with thick dark hair. 
 I was to preach on Christmas-day, and I had all along felt 
 very uneasy lest I should be disturbed by the event ; but with 
 what a bounding, joyful, deeply moved heart I could now 
 preach, and after the sermon offer up my thanksgiving for 
 the happy delivery. It is not, indeed, customary to do so 
 here; but I could not refrain; I felt the need to pray for 
 
FIRST YEARS OF MARRIED LIFE. 215 
 
 ■wisdom and understanding, and to feel that others were join- 
 ing in my prayer. Many persons present guessed by my 
 manner that it was my own wife I was alluding to. 
 
 Forgive my not writing more at present, dearest Lotte. 
 I am deeply moved by the sincere sympathy of all my friends. 
 It must be true, that there are few men so blessed as I am. 
 May God also grant me grace and faithfulness to enjoy and to 
 use profitably what he bestows so bounteously. Unite your 
 prayers with mine, you dear, true-hearted sister, and let us 
 soon have a word of gladness from you. 
 
 [cccLxrv.] 1th March, 1811. 
 
 I am getting on very badly with my letter-writing 
 just now, dearest sister; and partly, I believe, because I am 
 also otherwise not getting on very well. Since the beginning 
 of last month I have again been suffering from cramps in the 
 stomach, and at times so violently, that for weeks together I 
 have been obliged to lie down on the sofa in perfect idle- 
 ness as soon as I returned from the lectures. I ought at 
 present to be in a state of intense activity, in order to be 
 prepared for the next term, but I am so exhausted by the 
 pain that I can do little or nothing. And when I sit down to 
 write letters my conscience pricks me, because I feel that if I 
 do anything at all, I ought to do that which is more pressing. 
 Even my enjoyment of the two delightful days which we have 
 just celebrated — the day of the christening, and Jette's birth- 
 day yesterday — was disturbed by the pains. On the first of 
 these days, more especially, I am sure you were with vis in 
 spirit, in like manner as we bore in mind your sincere and 
 faithful affection. It was a solemn day to me. May I never 
 forget what I felt when performing the sacred rite ! May 
 it more particularly be present to me should I ever be on 
 the point of acting towards the child in a spirit contrary 
 to Christian paternal wisdom. I believe there was not an 
 individual present, who did not, in his own way, feel with me. 
 Dearest sister, I think few persons are so favoured by God as 
 Jette and myself; and we both fully recognize it, and are pre- 
 
216 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 pared for everything that time may bring as a counterpoise 
 to our rare happiness. You, poor dear, have again had to 
 suffer a great deal, and now, I dare say, you feel grateful that 
 the cup has once more been taken from your lips, and that 
 you have still your little flock entire and gathered around 
 you. Anxiety for our loved ones has also its noble influ- 
 ences on our lives, and is an element that we cannot do with- 
 out, and which we ought not to wish to be exempt from. 
 
 [ccclxv.] September, 1811. 
 
 Your whole position seems to me very 
 gloomy. If it could help you, I would describe how very 
 much worse even matters look in many parts of our state, and 
 more particularly in the province of Prussia. We must be 
 resigned to give up all outward prosperity, and feel assured 
 that, as far as this is concerned, no improvement can take 
 place until after the most dreadful convulsions and devas- 
 tations; and we must only endeavour to work upon the minds 
 of people, so that when the evil comes it may be borne with 
 fortitude, and be bi-ought to a happy issue. I do this to the 
 utmost of my powers in every direction that is open to me; 
 how long I shall still be able to do so God only knows. But 
 I would fain have spoken to you about the blessing which 
 I think attends my efforts in this respect, and about the seeds 
 which I think I see germinating, and have shown you how I 
 enjoy to the full the rare happiness, which this hope, and my 
 life with Jette and the children afford me, though I am at the 
 same time quite alive to the fact that the cup which contains 
 it is but of fragile nature. Everything else is as nothing to 
 this. I am not either then to be an eye-witness of your 
 present delightful life, and shall not be able to make you feel 
 how entirely, and with what pure enjoyment I enter into it ! 
 Well, it cannot be otherwise, and must therefore be right. I 
 only wish that my image stood so vividly before you as yours 
 stands before me at this moment. Ah! it is a great pity that 
 we shall not be able to go to you ! 
 
HUSBAND AND WIFE. 217 
 
 In the autumn of 1811 Schleiermacher undertook a 
 journey through Silesia, with a political object in view, 
 as appears from his letters ; but the precise nature of 
 this object cannot now be ascertained. The following 
 letters date from the period of his absence. 
 
 Henriette Schleiermacher to her Husband. 
 
 [ccclxvi.] Berlin, Monday {No date). 
 
 Can you guess, my heart's own, what I have been 
 doing ? I have been transporting Schlegel and hanging your 
 picture opposite to my bed instead of his. Last night, as 
 I was walking to and fro in the room, in somewhat melan- 
 choly mood, and full of various thoughts and of longing after 
 you, my eyes fell upon Schlegel, and I felt quite enraged to 
 think that a stranger's picture was hanging there, and not 
 yours; and I would willingly have effected the change at 
 once. 
 
 Tuesday. 
 I was interrupted in my writing yesterday morning, 
 and calculated upon going on in the evening, but Harscher 
 remained until eleven o'clock, and then I was so fatigued, 
 in consequence of having been disturbed by the children the 
 previous night, that I heard you say quite distinctly, " wife, 
 go to bed," and I obeyed. 
 
 1 am sometimes a little weak, my dear husband ; at all times 
 and in all places 1 miss you; and there are moments when I 
 would fain creep into a corner and cry for you from my full 
 heart. Yes, dearest life, without you there is no happiness 
 for me, and it is a hard trial to me that your absence is so 
 protracted. Do you also sometimes miss me a little ? I 
 know that I am but a worm ; but love me, nevertheless, above 
 all measure, and try not to lind out as yet that you could 
 very well do without me. Ah ! I ought not to have seated 
 myself here at your writing-desk, where we have so often 
 
218 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 been sitting, two on one chair, and where the feeling of my 
 present desolateness overcomes me more than anywhere else. 
 As far as outward matters are concerned, I can assure you 
 that great care is taken that I shall not have time to give 
 myself up to my longings. There is always something to be 
 done, and so many little diversions are proposed, that there 
 is neither time for injurious inertness nor beneficial re- 
 pose 
 
 Friede got his first smacking to-day. He was as quiet as a 
 mouse, and did not give any signs of pain, but to me it was 
 dreadful pain. As for Elsbetchen, you do not know how 
 sweet it was to see her looking for you in the bed, the first 
 morning ; it made me feel quite sad. You can hardly be 
 surprised, dear husband, that that child exercises an immense 
 power over me ; only by looking at me, with her bright, cheei*- 
 ful, loving eyes, she can make me rapturously happy whenever 
 she will. Dearest Ernst, if God has so ordained it that Ave 
 are to live long together, cheerfully and happy in the midst 
 of our children, ah, then ! surely all the good that Ave now 
 enjoy Avill go on ever increasing ! 
 
 There can be nothing more precious than a number of 
 dear, Avell-favourcd children ; and I cannot tell you with Avhat 
 emotion I contemplate the picture of a sweet, quiet, domestic 
 life, such as ours Avill be. It is a pious emotion, and my 
 heart is at the same time full of hope that God will increase 
 my powers, so that everything may become clearer and more 
 living in me, and that my good Avill may express itself more 
 effectually in action. Ah ! and you always form the brightest 
 point in the picture, round Avhich everything else turns, and 
 to wHich everything has reference. Only pray to God, that 
 He Avill in no way destroy this life. From His hand only 
 could a real destruction of it come ; for the thousand evils 
 which emanate from the world, and Avhich many look upon 
 as a destruction of their happiness, would to us only be a call 
 to exert our poAvers in manifold ways. My dear husband, 
 if God keep his hand over you and preserve your health, and 
 preserve our SAvect children to us, then AA r hatever may be the 
 
HUSBAND AND WIFE. 219 
 
 day's work allotted to me, I will ever at eve lay my head 
 upon your bosom with a feeling of true contentment, and 
 thank the Lord for my happiness by my happiness. I kiss 
 your hands with tenderest love, my dearest life, 
 
 Your Jette. 
 
 Schleiermacher to his Wife. 
 
 [ccclxvil] Hirschberg, 20th September, 1811. 
 
 I received your letter yesterday morning, just as Ave* 
 were going to take a drive. I only glanced cursorily at it 
 then to see how matters stood, but afterwards read it properly 
 through while seated close to the Kochelfall, and thanked 
 God with tears, dearest wife, that you are mine. How could 
 I make myself believe that I could do Avithout you 1 The 
 life that I am now leading seems to me so empty, although 
 I know that I am Avorking for a noble object, and although 
 these days have been rich in enjoyments. But the sweetest 
 part even of these Avas the remembrance of the time Avhen I 
 revelled in the contemplation of these natural beauties Avith 
 you. And not only on these occasions, but at all times, I am 
 ever living in thought Avith you and the dear children in our 
 little home. It is to me like a bright, sunny spot in a 
 beautiful landscape, in the background of which, however, 
 a terrific thunder-storm is gathering. That the storm will 
 prove utterly destructive, I do not anticipate, but much 
 devastation it cannot fail to cause, and Ave must not hope to 
 enjoy the bright effulgence of the setting sun, until it has 
 passed over. It is the beautiful country that surrounds me, 
 that has given this picturesque turn to my thoughts. Yester- 
 day and to-day I have gone over again the most lovely parts 
 
 of our tour in Silesia 
 
 I cannot tell you Iioav delighted I am with everything that 
 you write. I had my doubts as to Avhether Elizabeth Avould 
 
 * Schlciermacher was accompanied l>y a sister-in-law of his wife, 
 L. von Willich, whom he afterwards left with her brother who lived 
 in Prenzlau. 
 
220 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 look for me, and am, therefore, the more rejoiced to hear 
 that she did. But she will necessarily have forgotten me 
 before I return, and in her relation to mc, this journey will 
 be like a wound, which may indeed be easily healed, but 
 which will, nevertheless, leave a scar. Her consciousness of me 
 
 is interrupted, and will have to be created anew 
 
 We will look cheerfully and courageously towards the future, 
 for you are right; ruin it cannot bring to us. Even from 
 God, such cannot come — when you except that which comes 
 by death, which is always equally near and equally distant — 
 and the devil has no claim upon us. 
 
 Farewell, dear heart, I embrace you most tenderly, 
 
 Your ever -faithful Ernst. 
 
 [ccclxviii.] Breslau, 2oth September, 1811. 
 
 Here I am, dear Jette, in the city of my birth, since 
 four o'clock this morning. Since I wrote last, I have altered 
 the plan of my journey, because I missed some people in the 
 neighbourhood of Schmiedeberg, with whom I must commu- 
 nicate. Sunday, at noon, I was still in Hirschberg and on 
 the Cavalier mountain. On Monday morning, Count Gessler, 
 who had arrived the day before, paid me a long visit. He 
 must have been recently in Halle, for he told me a great deal 
 about Steffens and Blanc. At ten o'clock in the evening I 
 started for Gnadenfrei, where we caused Lotte a delightful 
 surprise the next forenoon. This morning I arrived here, 
 and have now taken up my abode with Gass, after having 
 enjoyed a few hours' sleep at the inn. As yet I know very 
 little about the people here, and do not either count much 
 upon them This place makes a strange impres- 
 sion on me ; the sight of the streets and the houses gradually 
 recall to my mind the memories of my earliest childhood, and 
 when I think of how God has guided me since then, a feeling 
 of tranquil confidence comes over me, which I am sure you 
 will share with me. For the rest, Breslau pleases me much 
 more than I expected, though it is very little altered, except 
 by the last siege. 
 
HUSBAND AND WIFE. 221 
 
 Henriette Schleiermacher to her Husband. 
 
 [ccclxix.] Berlin, 23rd September. 
 
 Thanks for your short letter, dearest heart ! It was 
 all too short ; but I am truly glad to know that you are in 
 good health and have met with no mishaps. Here all is well 
 and going on so entirely in the old way that I have, in fact, 
 nothing to tell ; nevertheless you must allow me to chat a 
 little with you. Little Elizabeth seems to be thinking seriously 
 of getting her teeth, but she is quite well. She has such a 
 pretty fashion now of stretching her little head forward, and 
 putting it on one side, and looking fixedly at you, until you 
 are forced to look at her in return, when her wee face quite 
 brightens up. She is a darling ! God grant that I may have 
 the joy to see the child grow up so gentle and loveable as she 
 is now ; that her sweet tenderness for me may ever remain 
 the same ; and that I may never have to stand opposed to her 
 in any struggle. Ah, Ernst ! I often feel very sorrowful at 
 the thought, that in my life with the two other children, some- 
 thing sweet and beautiful, and which I fear can never be 
 restored, has been lost. I could weep for ever over it. I am 
 sure you must feel and understand what I mean. They do 
 not seek refuge in their mother's bosom ; they do not rejoice 
 in my affection ; I cannot see my way to establish a rule of 
 love over them ; my constant, cold reprimands have killed 
 sweet confidence ; the icy crust around their mother's heart 
 lias chilled the tender babes. Ernst, do not say that I am 
 fancying something that does not exist; I implore you, believe 
 me, that I may not lose my faith in your power of insight. It 
 is entirely true, I am deeply penetrated by it, and I see dis- 
 tinctly to the very bottom of it, and can trace its source • I 
 know with how many other things it is connected, and more 
 especially with the cause of my being generally so little loved 
 in this world, that, with the exception of yourself, there is not 
 one among the many whom I know, to whom I could point 
 as to one avIio feels true affection for me, of whom I could 
 say, She is my friend. 
 
222 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 I know that I have made a fearful accusation 
 against myself, but I feel the necessity of giving vent to my 
 sorrows to-day, and of showing you what is passing in me. 
 But do not suppose that all this has come suddenly upon me. 
 Give me your hand, husband, that I may press it to my eyes 
 and to my heart, you most faithful one! Let me rest upon 
 your bosom while I pray to God that, for the sake of our 
 children, for the sake of the one still unborn, it may not be 
 made to suffer for its mother's sins. Oh, husband! how my 
 soul is swayed to and fro between bitter suffering and inex- 
 pressible bliss ! 
 
 Yes, beloved husband, were it not that from the hidden 
 depths of my heart there ever uprises a sense of pain, which 
 never quits me, but is now more keen, and now more 
 dull, and follows me through every phase of my life, I 
 should be the happiest woman on earth ; but as it is, I oscil- 
 late between sublime moments, when my happiness is quite 
 present to me, and I have the power to quaff it in full mea- 
 sure, and those periods of torpor, when my outward life 
 seems to drag on slowly and sullenly, and my inward life 
 seems sunk in profound sleep, and which again give way to 
 hours of deep humiliation and contrition. Could I but lead 
 a really pious life, I think I would be cured. It seems to me 
 that I am pious, but that I do not live piously. I feel that the 
 element of piety is deeply rooted in me, but it is so rarely 
 active. How often have I not been on the point of asking 
 vou whether I could consider myself pious, Avhen I can live 
 so long without prayer and without the feeling of the presence 
 of God, and I only turn to Him on extraordinary occasions, 
 when human prudence and human consolation are insufficient ; 
 or in those hours of deeper self-consciousness, when I fly to 
 Him for salvation. Dear, beloved husband, should even these 
 outpourings be very foreign to your present thoughts and 
 occupations, you will, I trust, nevertheless give them a willing 
 ear, and I will therefore not allow shyness to tempt me to keep 
 them back 
 
HUSBAND AND WIFE. 223 
 
 Schleiermaclwr to his Wife. 
 
 [ccclxx.] Friday, 27th September. 
 
 Dearest wife, you complain so gently and so sadly of 
 the shortness of my letter, that I was qnite moved by it. Yet 
 I shall hardly be able to write longer letters during this 
 journey, as I can never find any peace or quiet. And it is 
 not only that my letters are short, but I feel with regret that 
 they must seem very dry to you. It is unfortunate with me 
 that when I am tossed about in this way, nothing is to be 
 got out of me, however distinct and clear all my impressions 
 may be. But fancy that I am leaning my wearied head on 
 your dear bosom, and that all will soon be well again. 
 
 In what you say about yourself and the children, dearest 
 Jette, there may be some truth, but it is by no means so bad 
 as you fancy it, nor is the cause such as you believe. The 
 whole is but a transitory state, and as yet nothing has been 
 lost. You and the children needed to pass through a severe 
 school, in order to acquire stability and the habit of bringing 
 regularity into your life, which in your former circumstances 
 it was impossible for you to acquire. To a man it is natural 
 to regard this point as of the utmost importance, and it is I 
 who have been the first to introduce the severe tone. It is, 
 also, quite natural that during these endeavours earnestness 
 of manner has predominated and tenderness has been thrown 
 into the background. But by this time I think the point 
 has been gained, and the period at which the children will 
 begin to enter into relations of obedience with other people, 
 also, will gradually and of itself work a change without our 
 doing anything decidedly towards it. Your maternal heart 
 has never been estranged from the children, and your love 
 for them has not grown cold. My darling Jette, anything so 
 unnatural could never enter into our being and action. 
 Even I have a strong conviction that the children love me 
 sincerely and heartily, and nothing will disturb my faith in 
 this ; yet I strongly suspect that they do not miss me at 
 present — as you say not a word about it — and that you are 
 
224 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 at great pains to keep the remembrance of me alive in them ; 
 nevertheless, I am sure affection for me is deeply rooted in 
 their hearts, and will develop itself more and more. Try to 
 have the same faith in regard to yourself — it will not deceive 
 you; and do not allow outward cares and occupations and 
 transitory moods to rob you of the precious moments in 
 which you can fully seize it. And how can you say that you 
 are not loved ? Nay, dear heart, you have been taking far 
 too gloomy a view of things. I am glad, however, that you 
 wrote to me during that mood also. 
 
 The evening before last the Heindorffs took us by surprise 
 while we were at tea, remained the whole evening, and were 
 very cheerful. Yesterday morning I allowed myself to be 
 persuaded to preach next Sunday in the Reformed church, 
 situated in the neighbourhood of the house in which my first 
 days were spent. I did not know how to refuse, though I 
 can hardly hope that it will go off very well in the midst of 
 the tumult in which I am living. In the afternoon I paid a 
 very long visit to President Merkel. We remained in the 
 garden until seven o'clock, it was so deliciously warm. 
 
 In the spring of 1813 Schleiermacher found the state 
 of Berlin so dangerous that he considered it rieht to 
 send his wife and children into Silesia, where he hoped 
 they might be in safety. The following letters were 
 interchanged during this period of separation. 
 
 Schleiermacker to his Wife. 
 
 [ccclxxi.] Berlin, ISth Mmj, 1813. 
 
 I was glad to find you gone when I came back from 
 Goschen's, and then I was quite startled to discover that I did 
 feel glad. But I had no time to reflect ; the deputation was 
 already assembled, and over and above this a violation of our 
 authority had taken place. Siivern was out of himself, he 
 wanted to resign his command ; I had enough to do to calm 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 225 
 
 him down (but with his whole heart he will never enter into 
 these matters), and afterwards I was obliged to hasten to the 
 committee to get the affair sifted and settled. Nicolovius met 
 me in the street, and confirmed the news of the dissolution 
 of the department. Schuckmann has already started for 
 Silesia to represent it there, and Nicolovius is to leave to- 
 morrow for Pomerania or Prussia on a similar errand. 
 Whether we are to conclude from this that the entire pro- 
 vince, between the Elbe and the Oder, is in a condition to 
 call for the embodiment of the Landsturm, I do not know ; 
 indeed I know nothing, for nothing is communicated. 
 
 In the midst of all this I have thought a thousand times 
 of you, dearest, incomparable wife, and of our parting and our 
 separation, and the many possibilities that may intervene to 
 prolong the latter. Towards seven o'clock I was at last at 
 liberty to come out here and to gather my thoughts. On the 
 road I was overtaken by the Solgers, who came to present 
 themselves for the first time as man and wife. They went in 
 with me, and we enjoyed a fe%v pleasant cheerful moments 
 In the evening I read a little in your Lavater ; many passages 
 pleased me and many strengthened me; but one section, 
 addressed to a widower, I turned over without reading. 
 
 I have had my bed made upstairs, have written a few lines 
 
 to B , and these to you, and now I will go to rest. I 
 
 wonder if you have got safely as far as Francfort. I hardly 
 venture to hope so. And I wonder whether you will be able 
 to do anything there ? Ah, if I could but know ! 
 
 Dearest Jette, how shall I be able to do without you and 
 the dear children, and the sweet habitude of taking care of you 
 all and of sharing everything with you ! Instead of your 
 dear presence, I have now nothing but wavering, indistinct 
 p 1C tures of you. In addition to this I have already had 
 many disagreeable moments. The business which I have 
 undertaken, and which I perform with the utmost fidelity 
 is becoming very irksome to me; not that anything very 
 disagreeable occurs within our immediate sphere, but because 
 it seems to me that the superior authorities are not doin- 
 YOL. II. 
 
226 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 their duty properly, and that the scheme will lead to no 
 results, though there are excellent and powerful elements 
 among the masses. You see that I stand sadly in need of 
 the prayers which I have begged you to send up for me. 
 
 The candle is nearly burnt down, and it is high time I 
 should get to bed : the nightingales and the gnats have, up 
 to this moment, been contending for the mastery over me. 
 Good-night, my darling wife ! Alas ! how disturbed may 
 you not be at this moment, and how uncomfortably bedded ! 
 May the magic power of our dreams, at least, unite us. 
 
 [ccclxxii.] lAth May. 
 
 I got up very late this morning, so as to be obliged to 
 hurry away to get to the college in time. And what a con- 
 fused, busy, and yet empty day it has been ! When returning 
 from the college I heard some good news, which almost made 
 me regret having sent you away ; but then, again, I thought 
 of how many moments would come when I should be glad of 
 having done so, and indeed they have not been long in com- 
 ing, for this evening Pistor has again received bad news ; but, 
 then, he sees everything in the worst light ! The whole story 
 about Torgau is said to be fictitious. The Crown Prince of 
 Sweden has really arrived ; the English and the Spaniards 
 mean to make an irruption into France with one hundred 
 and sixty thousand men ; such are the most favourable 
 accounts that Ave have, and also that the Danes are helping 
 to defend Hamburg. On the other hand, it is said that the 
 French have really crossed the Elbe, somewhere between Wit- 
 tenberg and Torgau, with the intention of marching upon this 
 place, but no one knows where they are, and in what force. 
 Bonaparte himself, they say, is to cross near Pirna, in order 
 to offer battle to the combined armies, which, it is supposed, 
 the latter will not accept, but retire farther into the land 
 that is overflowing — not with milk and honey, but with 
 Landsturm. The king himself has given orders that, in case 
 of need, Berlin is to he defended ; and they are beginning 
 now to throw up entrenchments all along the Schafgraben, 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 227 
 
 from the Kopnick Gate to the Potsdam Gate. Princess Wil- 
 helm is still here — there is all the news for you in a lump. 
 
 Alter the lecture there was to be a conference of the 
 defence committee at my house ; they kept me waiting very 
 nearly an hour, and I was glad that I had the church ac- 
 counts to make up in the meanwhile. I dined at a little past 
 twelve, and in the intervals between the soup and the vege- 
 tables, and the coffee, I went on with the church accounts. 
 You know how furiously zealous I am in such matters, when 
 once I have begun. From two to five there was a meeting of 
 the Landsturm ; at six there was a presbyterium at my house, 
 and just as it was about to commence, I received an order to 
 deliver a consecration sermon in the court in front of the 
 university building, for the battalion of the Landwehr, which 
 is to leave to-morrow morning ; it is the one in which Reimer 
 serves. As soon as the conference was over, I was, therefore, 
 obliged to throw on my gown, and to resort to the court, 
 where an eternal buzzing went on until eight o'clock, when 
 the discourse was delivered, and thereupon the oath was 
 taken. With what delight I look forward to a quiet morning 
 to-morrow. I will not go to town* until dinner-time, for I 
 am to dine with Eeimer, who will remain the day over. At 
 tea-time I again read a little in Lavater. Why I have 
 described to you the whole of this hurry-skurry day, I am 
 sure I do not know. Very likely you may have spent an 
 equally disagreeable one ; I have a foreboding that to-day 
 you are crawling on somewhere between Ziebingen and 
 Francfort. Poor clear, to think of your being so forlorn ! 
 May the children but keep well, and may you thus escape 
 the worst troubles that might befall you. Dear heart, do 
 write to me as often as the bustle of the journey will allow, 
 and be not abashed at what you may think too great dulness, 
 
 * As long as he inhabited the official residence in the Cannoneer 
 Street, Schleiermaclier used to live in summer in a small house near 
 the Schafgraben, outside the Potsdam Ga'c, the !ar r e garden attached 
 to which bordered on the Tliiergarten ; but the greater part of his 
 business he transacted in town. 
 
 n 9. 
 
228 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 for you see I set you an excellent example in writing unin- 
 teresting letters. 
 
 As you like to know everything, I must inform you that I 
 have reported to Boyen what a very bad effect is produced on 
 the public, by the silence which is maintained respecting the 
 position of the armies. Unfortunately, I can hardly hope that 
 any good will result from the step I have taken, for there is 
 not a man among them who feels himself skilful enough to 
 place indifferent news before the public in a form that shall 
 not be too discouraging. For the rest, dearest heart, the fact 
 that the king himself has given orders that Berlin shall be 
 defended, has contributed very much to raise my spirits. 
 Good-night, my own heart ; God be with you ! 
 
 [ccclxxiii.] 15th May. 
 
 Your dear face is before me in all its 
 moods ; and when sadness is the predominant expression, I 
 do so wish I could stroke your hair and forehead, and kiss 
 away the suppressed tears and sighs ! May God take you 
 and the dear children under His holy protection ! 
 
 Yesterday evening I spent with the Schedes in their gar- 
 den. But already on the way thither, I was seized with a 
 pretty severe attack of my cramps, which tormented me for 
 a couple of hours. I have now written to Wolfart to make 
 arrangements for being mesmerized, as often as I can find 
 leisure. But according to the accounts received, we may 
 expect to-day or to-morrow an engagement between Bulow 
 and the French, who have crossed the Elbe ; and this will, 
 probably, decide the immediate fate of Berlin. Do not, how- 
 ever, be anxious about me, dear heart. The means of defence 
 will hardly have been sufficiently expedited by that time to 
 allow of any resistance on this point, and probably the Land- 
 sturm will only be called out to evacuate the town. I shall 
 then do so likewise, and will follow you slowly. 
 
 I feel, at this moment, that it is very foolish in me to be 
 writing you this, as my letter cannot leave until the day after 
 to-morrow, and by that time I shall be able to tell you how it 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 229 
 
 has all passed off; but I hug my folly in this instance, 
 because it makes me feel as if you were reading while I 
 am writing, and thus annihilates the time and space that 
 separate us. I had just sat down once again to compose 
 a sermon in a regular manner, when Twesten brought me 
 the news, which threw me anew into a state of excitement. 
 In the city I heard afterwards, that the entire Landsturm is to 
 march out to the Templo-berg to-morrow morning at half- 
 past five. Only fancy my consternation, as it is Sunday, and 
 I had no ammunition. Our section had not, however, re- 
 ceived any orders. I hurried, in consequence, to the com- 
 mittee, and found that there was no truth in the report. But 
 I shall not fail to get some ammunition to-morrow, that I 
 may not be put publicly to shame. Yesterday evening I 
 found two more letters from Countess Voss awaiting me; 
 one was to you, asking for letters of introduction for Stral- 
 sund, whither she intends to proceed should matters turn out 
 
 badly 
 
 In addition to the fright which I got about the ammu- 
 nition this morning, on hearing of the sudden marching 
 orders, I was also greatly alarmed at the thought that I might 
 not find time to send you one word of farewell. Indeed, how 
 easily may this not happen ! Let me therefore do so at once. 
 But what more can I do than press you to my heart with 
 the tenderest love, and pray for blessings on your head for all 
 that is good and lovely in my life, which I owe to you, then 
 endeavour to impress deep upon your heart my image, with 
 all its imperfections, but also with the feeling of how much 
 you have contributed to renew, and to embellish, and to 
 purify it ! And I would fain also give you the most lively 
 assurance that I take you with me, in like manner as I remain 
 with you. Yes, I ieel that I shall also dwell in you as a good 
 spirit. Oh, my matchless, tenderly beloved wife, may you be 
 sweetly reposing at this moment, and could I breathe into you 
 a heavenly dream ! 
 
230 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEK. 
 
 [ccci.xxiv.] 17th, Evening. 
 
 To-day I have put my house in order, have paid up 
 the servants, who, however, still remain, have purchased a 
 powder-iiask and a canteen, have mended and packed Rbder's 
 green ruantlesack, and have changed my paper-money into 
 gold. My most important papers, your letters and Henrietta 
 Herz's parcel, I have given into the keeping of Pischon ; the 
 linen and your books are put into the cellar. 
 
 These preparations, dearest, have been caused by the bad 
 news which Avas spread this morning. It was said that Baiow 
 was sorely pressed by a very superior force, and was retreat- 
 ing with the utmost speed. This evening, on the contrary, 
 tranquillizing accounts have been received from him ; he 
 believes that Berlin has nothing to fear ; and intends, as soon 
 as he has received reinforcements, to move forwards again, 
 and to assume the offensive; and now the excitable popu- 
 lation has again exaggerated these accounts into news of 
 a victory. For the present I will do no more than rejoice 
 that I shall have an opportunity to-morrow of making some 
 further preparations. 
 
 [ccclxxv.] 18th, Noon. 
 
 I have been running about so much, and am so tired, 
 dear Jette, that I can hardly write; and, in addition to this, 
 I have again an attack of the ci-amps — the first since last 
 Saturday. As long as matters remain quiet I shall continue 
 to be mesmerized daily by Wolfart, at his house, and hope 
 soon to be better in consequence. To-day is the anniversary 
 of our wedding-day. In my heart it is the day of our 
 betrothal, when you gave me your sweet "Yes" on the 
 bench, that is the chief day of rejoicing; but this day also 
 reminds me specially of a new life begun with you, and of all 
 that we have both become through it — but also of how much 
 more I could and ought to have been to you, and of how 
 many a suffering of various kinds I might have spared you. 
 May God grant us an opportunity of leading in future also a 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 231 
 
 life of-ever increasing purity, beauty, and fulness, and may 
 we be allowed to celebrate tins day together next year, 
 feeling that the struggles of the times lay entirely, or at least, 
 in firreat measure, behind us. Embrace the children most 
 tenderly for me. God bless and preserve you, my darling. 
 My prayers accompany you all, but you above all others. 
 
 [ccclxxvi.] ISth, Evening. 
 
 Dearest wife, what an unexpected delight was the 
 receipt of your little note ! Thanks be to God for having 
 guided you safely so far 
 
 Here Ave have heard nothing about the defection of Austria 
 (Saxony only is said to have declared decidedly in favour of 
 France) ; on the contrary, it is confidently asserted that the 
 alliance is epiite settled, but nothing relating to it has been 
 made public; and, until this takes place, I shall not believe 
 it. The cause of the delay is, no doubt, to be sought in 
 selfish negotiations which are still being carried on. As 
 regards our position here in Berlin, I have not the courage 
 to repeat the rumours that vary with every hour. I only 
 rejoice when evening arrives, and I can come quietly out 
 here, where the nightingales never fail to greet me, and 
 where I feel at home, and where my spirit can dwell un- 
 disturbed with you, fur the house in town is hateful to me 
 under the present circumstances. In the daytime, however, 
 I am always in town, because there is always something to be 
 done in the defence committee, and also because I am not yet 
 quite equipped for the inarch. 1 have offered Savigny and 
 Eichhorn to help them in the committee ; and shall perhaps 
 begin my labours to-morrow already; for, as for regular 
 study, that is not to be thought of until the immediate crisis 
 is over. I am continuing my Lectures; but I believe I am 
 the only professor who does so. One tiling only you may 
 be assured of, dearest wife, in the midst of these lluctuations, 
 and that is, that the sooner we are attacked here by the 
 French the less reason you will have to fear fur my life; for, 
 in case of their speedy arrival, no attempt will be made to 
 
232 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 defend the city ; the longer they defer coming, the better pre- 
 pared we shall be. In the first case, the only cause for 
 anxiety would be that we might possibly not be able to 
 make good our retreat towards Silesia, but be obliged to 
 move towards Pomerania, This would be very hard upon 
 us, as, under those circumstances, we might be separated for 
 an indefinite period. 
 
 Dear heart, I feel pretty sure that, under all circumstances, 
 or at least as long as the prevailing confusion be not too over- 
 whelming, I shall act with judgment and presence of mind. 
 Nevertheless, continue to pray for me, more especially in 
 regard to this point. I rejoice at the courage with which 
 you proceed. God hold his hand over you and the little 
 tribe, in future also. 
 
 [ccclxxvii.] 20*A, Evening. 
 
 I would willingly have chatted a little longer with you 
 yesterday, but on my arrival here, somewhat later than usual, 
 
 I found H waiting for me. After he had thoroughly 
 
 discussed himself, he took hold of me, spoke a great deal about 
 what was enigmatic in me, and of his intense desire to learn to 
 know me thoroughly, and of how necessary this was for the 
 completion of his culture and his views. You know how I 
 detest everything of this kind, and I really could not help 
 telling him in a very friendly way, but at the same time very 
 curtly, that I was surprised at his difficulty, for that any one 
 might learn to know me through and through in three days, 
 because everything in me sprang from very simple motives, 
 and that besides it did not seem to me to be worth any one's 
 while to seek to construe every individual trait in each in- 
 dividual mind. While giving you such a full account of 
 
 H 's visit, the feeling of the dreadful solitude in which I 
 
 live, quite overwhelms me. Nevertheless, every interruption 
 of this solitude in the evening is a real loss to me ; for it is 
 then that I give myself up to the sweet remembrance of our 
 former life here, and to thoughts of the many enjoyments 
 which you have procured for us, by establishing us out here. 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 233 
 
 I have also been calculating, that if the danger, which at the 
 present moment seems entirely to have withdrawn from Ber- 
 lin, should not approach again, and a fortunate battle should 
 remove the war into Saxony, and I should win the great prize 
 in the lottery on the 1st of June, I would buy an excellent 
 travelling carriage and set off to fetch you back. Such is in 
 fact the reward I ought to have for the privations I am under- 
 going. You may well laugh at me, dear heart, but you must 
 
 learn to know my follies also 
 
 Suvern has resigned his command on account of some un- 
 pleasantness during drill. This is a very disagreeable affair, 
 and I am doing my best to set matters right again. In short, 
 I am behaving so well, that I am sure you would be delighted 
 with me, could you witness it 
 
 [cccLxxvni.] 21s«, Evening. 
 
 What will be the end of it, dear heart, if I go on in 
 this way writing to you for ever ? I should like to know how 
 the distance between us affects you — it increases my longing 
 for you every day ; but now that I have brought my occupa- 
 tions into better order, and that we are not so tormented with 
 rumours, I am again able to work. However, I am obliged 
 to take hold of such a variety of things, that I cannot con- 
 tinue any one subject long enough to feel that I am getting 
 thoroughly into it. The interruption of the sweet habit of 
 sharing everything with you, which was enjoying in such 
 full measure just before you left, I now feel most keenly. The 
 intense love I have conceived for the garden, arises out of no- 
 thing but this. I hardly ever walk in it, I only sit and look 
 at it from the window, and I am nowhere so happy as here. 
 I look upon the place as a sweet gilt from you, which I must 
 ever have by me to gaze at. At present I have no dark fore- 
 bodings whatsoever. I am only thinking of our speedy re- 
 union, and of how I shall celebrate it and enjoy it. But even 
 this hope is founded rather in my wishes than in any par- 
 ticular conjuncture of events ; for until a battle has been won 
 in Lusatia, or some other event has transplanted the war 
 
234 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 entirely to the other side of the Elbe, there can be no security 
 
 for us 
 
 . . . . To-day I have received my increased salary 
 for the ensuing month, so that all likelihood of immediate 
 starvation is again postponed ; and after all, I dare say, we 
 shall not run any very great danger in this respect, or be 
 very hard bestead. Well, if it is not to be, I suppose we 
 must bear it ; and our separation is, alas ! quite enough to 
 have to endure. Good night ; try and keep the children as 
 regularly to work as you can : but it is easy enough for me to 
 talk ; perhaps you will find it much more difficult to execute. 
 
 [cccxxxix.] 22nd. 
 
 . . . . The only rumour prevalent here at present 
 is, that Ney's corps is still retiring, and Bulow's pursuing him. 
 The most people are therefore quite easy. Nevertheless, every- 
 thing depends upon the next battle. The Austrian alliance 
 is, it is said, placed beyond all doubt, but officially we hear 
 nothing on the subject. 
 
 Only think, that at court and in the aristocratic circles, it 
 
 is asserted that I have gone off. I suppose it is P , who 
 
 got your passport for you, that is mostly to blame in the matter. 
 For it has also been reported to the place-major. Mrs. Von 
 Hazfeld, more especially, has done her best to spread the 
 rumour, and in consequence my first feeling was a desire to 
 take a little revenge on her. Indeed, I had no peace until I 
 had indited a very sharp note to her. You know my ways, 
 but I thought it not worth my while to send it oft* — for the 
 fable will very soon disprove itself. 
 
 In the morning, one meets troops of people with spades and 
 shovels, going to work at the entrenchments, and in the even- 
 ing one sees companies of the Landsturm, exercising in all the 
 great squares. The two redoubts near our Schqfgrahm ace 
 very neat, and when they are manned and armed, I am sure 
 the enemy will not get in until they have been battered down 
 and the cannon have been dismounted. "When we consider 
 that there are about thirty to forty thousand men belonging 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 235 
 
 tu the Landsturm here (though the latter number is probably 
 exaggerated), and that these will be supported by about fifteen 
 thousand regular troops, there is every reason to suppose that, 
 if matters are conducted with proper skill, Berlin will be able 
 to hold out even against a very superior force, provided the 
 latter be not aided by very heavy artillery. 
 
 Embrace the children most heartily for me, and tell them 
 to behave so that you may have good accounts to write to me 
 of them. The sermon which I had commenced before you 
 left, is still incomplete, but in addition to this I have been 
 studying the New Testament, and taking notes, and have also 
 been delivering my lectures very regularly. I always feel that 
 I must give you an account of what 1 am doing, for that helps 
 to spur me on. To-morrow I am to preach for the first time 
 without you, only your empty seat opposite to me — it will be 
 very hard. May God soon unite us again, my beloved, my 
 precious wife ! I embrace you in spirit and press you close to 
 my heart. God be with you all ! 
 
 [ccclxxx.] 22nd, Evening. 
 
 My joy at the receipt of your letter was so great, so 
 overwhelming, that it made me neglect the parade, and now 1 
 
 have cpuihns of conscience in consequence I have 
 
 further to think of my sermon, which is by no means ready; 
 but I fear that I shall neither be in the proper mood for 
 thinking of it to-day, nor for delivering it to-morrow. To- 
 day at noon arrived a courier with the news of the successful 
 engagement on the 19th. However, as he left the field of 
 battle during the engagement, though our troops had then the 
 advantage on every point, everybody is now very anxious to 
 learn what the ultimate result has been. The people ought 
 to be spared this sort of suspense, they have not strength to 
 bear it ; even we find it difficult. You, poor dear, have no 
 doubt a good deal more to hear than you have allowed me to 
 know, and I dare say it is only your bravery that makes you 
 l'eel su pleased with the journey. I can only love you and 
 praise you the more for it, and beg you be assured that I 
 
236 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 feel how much reliance can be placed in you, my heroic, 
 energetic wife. 
 
 Since I wrote the above, I have got my sermon into proper 
 order, and I will now say good night. I ought, perhaps, to be 
 in a state of great excitement regarding the decision of the 
 battle ; but I am not so. I have a firm conviction that the 
 affair will not terminate in one day ; for a total rout of our 
 army is not to be feared, as it had already gained great advan- 
 tages, and the spirit of the troops was excellent, and the com- 
 mand conducted with great prudence. Neither do I think it 
 likely that Bonaparte will be thoroughly defeated ; he is far 
 too strong and skilful for that. Even the decision as to 
 whether or not we are soon to meet again, seems to me to 
 depend upon other events. It is what will take place in 
 Austria, or on the Lower Elbe, that can alone induce him to 
 fall back so far as to allow us to feel secure again. 
 
 [ccclxxxi.] 2£th, Forenoon, in the city. 
 
 I was not able to write to you yesterday ; I could only 
 remain a moment at the garden-house in the evening, for I 
 was good for nothing, thoroughly knocked up by the cramps, 
 and obliged to have recourse to magic, during which I read 
 your letter once more. Afterwards, though still suffering a 
 good deal, I went to Reimer's — he was here for the day, but 
 started again for Potsdam in the night — where I met Eichhorn 
 and Bardeleben, and Scheie (who has of course been obliged 
 to give up all attempts at administration on the other side of 
 the Elbe, and is about to join Bulow), and Arndt, who is here 
 again, and Bothmer, who has arrived from Hamburg, and who 
 means to join Wallmoden. I have commissioned the latter to 
 inquire about Marwitz, and to induce him to write. I was 
 anything but animated, for I was not only suffering much 
 from the cramps, but I had been reflecting the whole day with 
 much grief upon the defective manner in which public affairs 
 are conducted, and the conversation at Reimer's only served 
 to increase this. I returned home towards midnight, quite 
 knocked up, and was obliged to go to bed immediately. 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 237 
 
 My sermon would perhaps have seemed to you rather forced 
 in the bejinninj;, as on a former occasion ; it was a charac- 
 terization of the Apostle Peter, applied to the present times, 
 and the conclusion was spirited, and I hope effective, and 
 contained a recommendation to watch over the weak, and to 
 inspire them with faith and courage. I discovered a great 
 many gaps among my auditors, and the sight of your empty 
 pew (Pischon alone was in it) brought the tears to my eyes. 
 I am so glad, dear heart, that in this respect you are better off 
 than I am, for you have the children to fill out your life, and 
 are in the midst of new, pleasing, and diverting circumstances. 
 Your longing for me can hardly assume the character which 
 mine for you often has. 
 
 Savigny tells me that people are beginning to fly from 
 Hirschberg, but do not allow this to disturb you : remain 
 quietly where you are, until you hear that the Landsturm has 
 been called out; should this take place, then proceed as 
 speedily as possible to the nearest town in Bohemia. I shall 
 give you no directions for other cases that may occur, but shall 
 depend entirely upon you and Carl.* The German legion is 
 said to have arrived on the Oder at last, and Stülpnagel is 
 expected here on Friday already, so I suppose I shall soon 
 hear something about Fritz and Helvetius Dohna. The wish 
 that the legion might require my services, has repeatedly 
 passed through my mind ; I would most gladly join it. . . . 
 
 [ccclxxxii.] Evening. 
 
 I cannot conclude my evening out here without a little 
 
 further chat with you 
 
 . As for the removal of the state officials, I can- 
 not say how it stands ; no one has as yet seen the royal order. 
 In every case at first it only had reference to the chiefs of 
 departments, and each of these did as he liked ; one took his 
 councillors with him, another left them behind, and those 
 
 * Schleiermacher's brother Carl was then established as an apothe- 
 cary in Schmiedeberur, where he was much respected as an able phar- 
 maceutist and chemist. 
 
238 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 councillors who have received no distinct orders have also 
 acted according to their own discretion. In our departments- 
 no one has as yet left, except Nicolovius, who has been 
 sent by Von Schuckmann to the other province, and Ancillon, 
 who has probably gone to join the crown prince. It is to 
 be hoped that the downright cowards, whether among the roval 
 servants, or among the citizens — for a great many private per- 
 sons, and more particularly a great many rich Jews, are said 
 
 to have fled — will get their deserts And now 
 
 good night, dear heart. Ah ! it is a melancholy going to bed 
 up yonder in the coffin, without you and the children. 
 
 [cccxxxxm.] 27th, Evening. 
 
 It is with a heavy heart that I address you to-day, 
 dearest. As I was absent the whole day yesterday, and was 
 occupied the whole forenoon to-day in the church, the news 
 of the great, and, as it seems, rather precipitate retreat of the 
 army, has taken me quite by surprise. I may say, that 
 to-day I have for the first time really repented having sent 
 you away, as you will now be quite near the theatre of war, 
 while we shall be perfectly quiet here ; and I think, in 
 addition to this, of your being surrounded by so many bewil- 
 dered and helpless people, and to feel that by the time this 
 letter reaches Schmiedeberg, you may no longer be there, or 
 that, perhaps, by the day after to-morrow, the postal commu- 
 nication with that place may already have ceased. How 
 I shall be able to bear our separation under these aggravated 
 circumstances, without being consumed by my longing for 
 you and the children, I do not know ! Since noon, I have 
 been tormenting myself with thoughts of what a state of 
 indecision you must be in, and of how likely it is that we 
 may be still further cut off from each other, if the present 
 
 retreat continues Only think, in a little note 
 
 which I have received from L , she actually upbraids me 
 
 * Sch lei ermach er was at that time memher of the department for 
 Public Instruction, under the Ministry of the Interior, which was 
 presided over by the minister Von Shuckmann. 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 239 
 
 for having sent you away, and says that husband and wife 
 ought to share good and evil with each other, even unto 
 death — as if you were not sharing it with me. On that point 
 I am quite easy, and shall be able to set her right also; for 
 she has not the least idea what our Landsturm edict means. 
 But that you should now be deprived of the immediate pro- 
 tection of my arm, that is very, very hard ; and I reproach 
 myself bitterly for the feeling of helplessness which made me 
 fear that I should not be able to take the necessary measures 
 for your safety at the last moment. Tell me honestly, dear 
 heart, has the thou- lit that I was rather precipitate in sending 
 you away, also occurred to you? — that is to say, judging, not by 
 the present state of things, but according to the circumstances 
 
 at the time ? — do, pray, tell me quite candidly 
 
 My sermon to-day was certainly less popular than usual, but 
 there were good things in it. Ah, dearest, I miss you in 
 everything, even in regard to my sermons and my preaching, 
 as, indeed, upon the whole, you influence me for more than 
 you are aware of. I, on the contrary, have always known it, 
 and could well dispense with the proof derived from my 
 present privation. May God protect you ; I lay me down 
 to-night with a heavy heart. 
 
 [ccclxxxiv.] 28tli, Evening. 
 
 I have had a pi-etty quiet day to-day — I mean I have 
 had less to do in connection with the Landsturm, but I shall 
 have to pay for this to-morrow. I have, therefore, done more 
 literary work than usual, having written a good bit of a 
 Mi-innn, and laboured through several prize essays submitted 
 to the Academy, besides other reading, and I was able to 
 come out here as early as four o'clock. In the evening, as I 
 was seated quietly at my tea, Twesten came in, so loaves and 
 cakes had to be hunted out of all corners, and we had hardly 
 had time to chat a little together, before in came Saviguy, 
 and Eichhorn, and Scheie, and Arndt. After the foracinc 
 had been successfully got through (luckily there was a sausage 
 in the house), and I had informed them that they must all 
 
240 LIFE OF SCHLE1ERMACHEK. 
 
 use the same tea-spoon, we were very merry, and a glass of 
 wine made amends for all that was wanting. Savigny alone 
 seemed depressed, and I strongly suspect that he held in petto 
 either some bad account or some evil foreboding, which he 
 
 would not divulge 
 
 Only a few hurried words to-night, dear heart, before 
 I go to bed. I was placed in a singular position to-day. 
 Eichhorn and Savigny proposed to me to accept a mission 
 from the committee to head-quarters, to arrange various 
 matters of great importance. Only think what a temptation ! 
 I might, in that case, so easily have seen you all, and have 
 brought you back with me, or, at all events, have united my 
 fate with yours again. For one moment, I indulged in the 
 most lovely and romantic visions, but, happily, I withstood 
 all the allurements, as I did not consider the undertaking 
 advisable. But do not attribute too much virtue to me; for 
 the fact is, I have not altogether thrown the proposal over- 
 board, but have made conditions which would give the matter 
 a different appearance, and which may very likely not be 
 agreed to. This and the Landsturm business gave me work 
 for the whole day, but in the intervals, I thought much and 
 devoutly of the great public cause, which has, indeed, occu- 
 pied my mind during all these latter days. 
 
 [ccclxxxv.] 30th May. 
 
 I could write no more to you yesterday than the little 
 note which I took at once to the post. I dined in the Sunday 
 Society, where I met Klewitz, who returned from Breslau 
 a few days ago. I had a good deal of conversation with him, 
 and was much pleased with the excellent sentiments he ex- 
 pressed. He also said that the battle of Bauzen would most 
 certainly have been gained, had the reserves been brought 
 into action ; but that the king himself had given contrary 
 orders, because he feared that Bonaparte would then, accord- 
 ing to his usual custom, throw large masses forward, to whom 
 we should have no troops to oppose. But Bonaparte had no 
 such large masses at command. This may be called being 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 241 
 
 over-cautious ; and if this principle is to be carried out, we 
 ought never to fight except when we know ourselves to be 
 superior in number. Indeed, it does seem to be the principle 
 followed at present, all action being postponed until we shall 
 have the Austrians behind us; for Klcwitz also says that at 
 head-quarters they are quite sure that the Austrians are 
 coming. He speaks very highly of the confidence of the 
 king in ultimate success, and also of the courage of the army. 
 Twesten came in the evening, and only learnt from me that 
 the shamefully treacherous Danes had let the French into 
 Hamburg. I hope that in return the English will set fire to 
 Copenhagen. After Twesten had left me, I could not sit 
 down to write to you, because I was obliged to think of my 
 sermon, which did not, however, turn out very well, partly 
 because I was somewhat inattentive then, and partly because 
 of a very strange paroxysm, which came over me in the 
 vestry, previous to my going into the pulpit, and which I 
 must relate to you. All of a sudden, I do not know by what 
 concatenation of thought, such a dread took hold of me that 
 I should be overcome by fear on the approach of death, that 
 it actually brought on a kind of physical depression, which 
 mu.st have had a perceptible influence on my sermon. You 
 know I have repeatedly mentioned to you that I did not feel 
 quite sure that I should not fear death when it came, but the 
 thought never before overwhelmed me in that manner. But 
 all this is owing to the solitude in which I live ; were you here, 
 the thought would never have entered my head. I had a 
 faint hope that I should have a letter from you in the after- 
 noon, but I was disappointed. However, I will not, therefore, 
 allow myself to believe that the French are in Sohmiedeberg, 
 and you in one of the frontier villages. I walked out, and 
 found that it was raining; anil, however fertilizing and welcome 
 the rain might be, on me it had a saddening effect. I next 
 forced myself to work, and succeeded ; for I wrote good 
 part of a sermon, almost as much as would make half a sheet 
 in print, and, what is more, I Avas satisfied with it; but 
 whenever I made a pause and went to the window, the 
 VOL. II. B 
 
242 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 feeling of sadness again assailed me. Ultimately, I was 
 rescued from it in a most agreeable manner by the arrival 
 of Mina Reimer, who came with the two girls and Arndt. 
 Afterwards Dreist joined us, and we were all very merry. 
 
 And now, good night. It strikes me that I gossip too 
 much about the petty events of the day, and I will avoid this 
 in future. 
 
 [cccxxxxvi.] 31st May. 
 
 To-day I have given myself a treat which I have never 
 before enjoyed ; I took a walk through the garden at half- past 
 five o'clock in the morning. It had rained in the night, the 
 air was delicious, and the roses were very much refreshed ; 
 they give promise of a second bloom. At what o'clock do you 
 rise, dearest ? Do you enjoy the glories of the early morn ? 
 and do you on first awaking think of me and long for me, as I 
 do for you most tenderly and truly, the first thing in the morn- 
 ing and the last thing at night? I look at the beautiful flowers 
 in the garden with a feeling of regret, because, supposing 
 matters to proceed ever so favourably, they will have faded 
 before you can be back. This morning, Pischon baptized his 
 child, and I was godfather. I was much impressed by the 
 beautiful sense in which he understands Christianity, and also 
 his own vocation, which came out so distinctly in his discourse. 
 The Avhole ceremony was very touching and pleasing to me ; 
 it reminded me of some of the most delightful moments of our 
 life and of the sweet paternal joys which I owe to you ; and a 
 sincere thanksgiving poured forth from my heart, which yearned 
 more than ever for you. The calm, secure happiness of the 
 young couple also moved me deeply, and from a full heart I 
 prayed for such blessings on the child as are most essential to 
 a girl. 
 
 Now, dearest wife, everything considered, I do not know 
 why I should postpone any longer giving you orders to return 
 home. For the present there is not the slightest danger to be 
 feared here, whereas where you are you may be exposed to 
 such in a week, shoiüd both armies have recruited their 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 243 
 
 strength sufficiently to deliver battle. Therefore, let us venture 
 it in God's name, and let me beg you to set off as soon after 
 the receipt of this letter as you shall deem the road safe, that 
 is to say, as soon as you hear that our armies are on the other 
 side of the roads. 
 
 Dear heart, I am penetrated with joy at the thought of our 
 meeting again. Oh, how sincerely I shall thank God when I 
 hold you again in my arms, when I press the dear little people 
 again to my heart! God grant that there may be no difficulty 
 on your side ; here everything will no doubt remain quiet. 
 It is even said that the Princess Wilhelm, who had gone no 
 further than Francfort, is about to return 
 
 With what an oppressed heart I sit down to write to you, 
 dearest wife, whom I have perhaps now lost for a long, long- 
 time! "Will you ever receive these lines ? and when and how 
 will the time come when we shall meet again ? Good God ! 
 yesterday I wrote to you so full of glad hope to beg you come 
 back ; Ave had not then heard of the retreat of the army into 
 Silesia ; and to-day we have received news of the brilliant 
 action near Ilagenau ! It has struck me like a thunderbolt ! 
 In what state of mind may you be, and where may you be ? 
 Have you sought refuge in some corner of Bohemia, or are 
 you still in Schmiedeberg, full of fear that you may have to 
 fly at any moment ? And I, who ought to be your counsellor 
 and your support, lam here ! I reproach myself most bitterly 
 for having been so foolish as to send you away ! O God ! it 
 is a heavy, heavy trial, and I do not know how I shall bear it. 
 Sweet heart, have I not sinned grievously against thee and the 
 children? Have I not wantonly precipitated that hardest of 
 fates, which ought only to have been brought about by the 
 most important events ? Are you not already as lonely and 
 forlorn as if you were a widow ? Every thing around me looks 
 indescribably gloomy, and I begin even to despair of the public 
 cause. These repeat d retreats will necessarily damp the 
 courage of the people and bring everything into confusion. 
 From Austria we hear nothing. The crown prince of Sweden 
 is also holding 'back, it is said because the conditions are not 
 
 R 2 
 
244 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 fulfilled which Russia and Prussia promised. And the 
 people ? Good God, can we reckon on it ? How many are 
 they who are really animated by patriotism ? It is possible 
 that Hamburgh may fall in a few days. O God ! my beloved, 
 what can individuals hope for, under such circumstances, but 
 a noble death ! Sweet wife, you whose destiny I have bound 
 up with mine, had I but your hand in mine, could I but gaze 
 into your eyes, could Ave but seek new sti-ength and courage 
 heart pressed to heart ! My tender love for you and the 
 children is the only happy feeling I have left — or rather my 
 love for you, for I confess it at this moment the children are 
 very secondary in my eyes, because as yet they have not the 
 consciousness of what is going on around them ; but at the 
 bottom of my heart there is an immeasurable love for them 
 also, which might at any moment be converted into a lion's 
 love. But I must cease, I must tear myself away, I am too 
 excited. 
 
 [ccclxxxvii.] 2nd June, Afternoon. 
 
 About an hour ago, dear heart, I received your letter 
 of the 25th. I am sincerely rejoiced that you have so happily 
 got over the first fright and difficulties, and that I can fully 
 approve of all that you have done and planned. 
 
 Alas ! that I can do nothing, either for the great cause of our 
 country or for you, except wish and pray, and devote to both 
 a passive love ! Oh, to be separated under such circumstances 
 is too dreadful ! What you say so kindly, dear love, about 
 feeling consoled at the thought of my being in quiet and 
 safety, has cut me to the heart ; and when you write, "the 
 happy ones, who remained," — ah, my darling wife, it drives 
 me to despair to think that I sent you away ! 
 
 In one respect, you are far better off than I. You suffer, 
 but at the same time you are called upon to act. But I can 
 only look on, while my heart is being torn to pieces; and 
 then to feel that, as far as you are concerned, I have brought 
 this upon myself ! Ah ! I shall never be at peace until I hold 
 you again in my arms, and then I shall hardly feel myself 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 24.> 
 
 worthy of folding you to my bosom But I will 
 
 force myself to go to work, that I may not fall into a morbid 
 state. 
 
 [ccclxxxviii.] Sth June, Noon. 
 
 Everybody here feels as if fallen from the elouds at 
 the news of the armistice ; as yet we know too little about 
 the details to allow me to pass any judgment upon it, and I 
 will not join those who are precipitate in abusing it. Things 
 look dangerous indeed, yet I will not yield to the fear that 
 this may lead to an unfavourable peace. With God's help, at 
 all events, it shall load to our reunion, and I am out of myself 
 
 with joy when I think of it Never again, dearest 
 
 Jette, will we thus separate, should even, as I hope, the Land- 
 sturm edict remain a permanent law — never again, until the 
 most urgent necessity is at the door, will I send you away 
 from me. 
 
 [ccclxxxix.] 10^//, Evening. 
 
 • • • • It is four weeks to-day since you left, 
 and I hope that only one week more will elapse before you 
 are back again, lor 1 can hold it out no longer. At moments 
 I feel as if I were transported back into my old days of 
 bachelorhood, and as if it were only a dream that I had ever 
 changed my condition, and a shudder of horror comes over 
 me. Then again, when I bring you and the children vividly 
 before my imagination, and the old presentiment returns that 
 you will not keep me long, an indescribable sadness steals over 
 me, at the thought of all that is precious and all that is vain 
 in life, of all that is good and noble which, by the grace of 
 God, has been developed in me, and of so much that is un- 
 worthy and contemptible that is mixed up with this, — I feel 
 as if 1 would fain fold you to my heart, impress upon you 
 once more how tenderly I love you, bless you, and then die. 
 Come, dearest, hasten to join me, to till out my lite again, and 
 to save me, by your sweet presence, from this dreamy state, 
 which solitary work at the writing-desk does not suffice to 
 concpier 
 
246 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACTIER. 
 
 [cccxc] Tuesday morning. 
 
 I took a delightful stroll in the garden, as early 
 as a quarter before five. I was thinking whether it would 
 be possible to induce you sometimes to slip out of bed so 
 early, and to come and enjoy with me the freshness and fra- 
 grance of the morning. At rare intervals it must be, however, 
 because to rise early is, in fact, contrary to your nature. What 
 I occupied myself with ? — with you. The anniversaries of 
 the most important epochs of our lives are drawing near — 
 the day on which I saw you for the first time, when you gave 
 me a touching inrpression of a pious, gentle girl, under the 
 influence of a first and holy love, such as I had never before 
 witnessed. How tenderly attached to you I was ! I looked 
 upon it as the highest happiness left to me, to be near 
 you and to witness and to bless your Avedded life. Then 
 again, the time when I felt such an irresistible desire to see 
 you again as a sorrowing widoAv, and when gradually a deeper 
 love still was developed. Yes, Jette, it was Divine guidance 
 that led me to you ; and I feel it now as deeply as ever, I could 
 never have loved any other woman as I love you. I press 
 your dear head to my bosom, imprint a kiss on your forehead, 
 and once more promise to guide and support you through this 
 chequered life, with all the strength of my love and my whole 
 being, and to pour upon you all the good that wells up in 
 my own heart, as also all that I can gather in the world 
 around me. 
 
 [cccxci.] 21st, Evening. 
 
 With foolish, youthful thoughtlessness, I had almost 
 given up writing ; and now the nearer the post-day ap- 
 proaches the more anxiously my heart beats, lest it may 
 bring a bitter disappointment. 
 
 To-day I have begun to write an essay, which I am to read 
 to the Academy on Thursday next, on the various methods of 
 translation.* It may prove interesting, if I be allowed proper 
 leisure. 
 * It may be found in Schleiermachcr's Works, sect. 3, vol. ii., p. 207. 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 247 
 
 [cccxcu.] 2-ltJt, Evening. 
 
 I was unable to write to you yesterday, because I was 
 so very busy with the essay, which I have read to the Aca- 
 demy to-day. It is, in fact, trivial enough, but for that very 
 reason people thought it very clever and interesting, and have 
 requested me to read it at the next public sitting. I did not 
 like to refuse, because as yet I have never read a paper in 
 public, and they might have thought that it was affectation. 
 The essay treats of translation, and contains some home- 
 thrusts at Wolfs system ; but I do not know if any one 
 noticed them. "Who do you think sat opposite to me, listen- 
 ing with great attention ? — Kotzebue ; he is the very man Ave 
 saw in the box at the theatre. 
 
 Dear love, how very little, in fact, I have done since you 
 have been away ! Four sermons only, and this essay, besides 
 a few insignificant researches, and the current business, and 
 yet I am not at all intent on improvement, but, on the con- 
 trary, am speculating upon how I shall manage to save time to 
 devote to you. My chief hope is based upon the probability 
 that the mesmerizing will soon become unnecessary, and that 
 I shall then not be obliged to go to town in the afternoon. 
 God knows, however, whether I shall really be able to manage 
 this, as I have determined to undertake the editorship of the 
 Correspondent. I could not do otherwise, for, in the contrary 
 case, the paper must have ceased to appear, and it is a matter 
 of too great importance to Keimer. It will entail a good deal 
 of worry on me, I know; work to which I am not accus- 
 tomed, and which I shall not at first know how to set about, 
 and quarrels with the Government and the silly censorship. 
 And who knows as yet what Niebuhr will say to it? How- 
 ever, I console myself with the thought that I am doing it 
 from the most disinterested motives, and at a great sacri- 
 fice 
 
248 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Georq Reimer. 
 
 [cccxcm.] Berlin, 24t7i July, 1813. 
 
 In regard to the Correspondent, dear friend, matters go 
 on only so so. I receive very little assistance except from 
 
 R , who is pretty industrious ; but as long as he remains 
 
 in Wolgast, I am afraid his contributions will always come too 
 late, as has hitherto been the case with his most important 
 articles. However, he writes that he is about to proceed to 
 Stralsund, and then, I dare say, he will be of greater use to 
 tis. A few days ago, Niebuhr sent for the first time a contri- 
 bution, which was but of slight importance ; but he promises 
 something better shortly. We shall see if he keeps his word. 
 The persons acquainted with the court and others also are 
 negligent, and the Government seems to be displeased, and 
 does not even forward official notices. It is to be hoped, 
 however, that now that the Chancellor has left, this will be 
 corrected; for Sack, I think, is well inclined. I have no 
 doubt that this displeasure is connected with the persecution 
 to which I have been subjected, in consequence of the well- 
 known article in No. GO ; and this, again, with the dissolution 
 of the Landsturm, and with Barensprung's transportation to 
 Pillau. All these matters hang on one string, and this is 
 what is called a decisive victory over Stein's party. Such 
 are the first-fruits of Scharnhorst's death ; but, never mind, 
 the good cause will, nevertheless, be triumphant. My mishap 
 has only served to amuse me ; it is too absurd to cause me 
 any real annoyance. Schuckmann, who had received a cabi- 
 net order to give me a severe reprimand, and to threaten me 
 with dismissal, should I repeat the offence, began in the most 
 angry and savage tone, and even accused me of high treason ; 
 but concluded with repeated assurances that he considered 
 me a most upright man and sincere well-wisher to my coun- 
 try, and with a very quiet conversation about how far liberty 
 of the press should go in regard to newspapers. My im- 
 perturbable self-possession, and the explanation of a misunder- 
 
POLITICAL VICISSITUDES. 249 
 
 standing in connection with an old affair in which he believed 
 I had personally insulted him, produced a very evident effect on 
 him. I reserved to myself the right of delivering in a written 
 defence ; I dare say he will consign it to the record office, but 
 I will take care that it shall become known to the public. 
 
 It is very desirable, in respect to the Correspondent, that 
 you should come yourself, and put everything in order. The 
 Landsturm being now dissolved, Göschen might, indeed, find 
 time to attend to it ; but, for the first, I should not like to 
 retire immediately after this affair ; and for the second, I fear 
 that Guschen would draw back within the former limits, 
 which would not at all be good for the paper. Therefore, if 
 no better person can be found, I will continue the editorship as 
 well as I can during the next quarter, after the lapse of which, 
 I hope some other plan may be devised. For should I be 
 obliged in winter to carry on the lecturing business more seri- 
 ously than at present, it would be impossible for me to continue. 
 
 As regards public matters, I trust you will not lose courage. 
 The rumours of peace are gradually dying away; but, on the 
 other hand, it is to be supposed that, if Austria joins the alli- 
 ance, the Russians will play a more secondary part, and will, 
 perhaps, only have to cany on the siege. Mendelssohn, who 
 lias been here long enough to be able to tell you everything, 
 will probably do so; and I will, therefore, not spend time in 
 pondering upon what might be most interesting to you to 
 know. Farewell, may God preserve your health and courage! 
 Eichhorn is .said to be seeking an appointment in the army. I 
 hope it is not true; but if he could get a high appointment in 
 the commissarium, I should be very glad. However, I sup- 
 pose that is not to be thought of. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [cccxciv.] Ath April, 1814. 
 
 It is very long since I have written to you, dear 
 Charlotte ; but Jette, I know, has from time to time kept you 
 
250 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 informed of my health and of our entire life. Lured by the 
 fine weather, we are again happily established in the garden- 
 house ; and my first enterprise in the morning is a walk, 
 I may truly say, amid the verdure, for everything is budding 
 and bursting into leaf, and in a few days, the alders will be 
 in blossom. My work, on the contrary, does not progress so 
 well ; but for this, the world-events are more to blame than 
 nature. Good God ! how much blood is again being shed, all 
 because of misapplied magnanimity, and how long may it not 
 be before we can hope for peace ! Yet God's finger is too 
 evident, throughout our present history, to allow of our 
 doubting that, though it may be through severe trials, it will, 
 ultimately, lead to that consummation which we have hitherto 
 hoped for in vain. Half of what ought to have been accom- 
 plished during the former war, in regard to external as well 
 as internal matters, has still to be done ; and even should the 
 measures be carried out at present, we may believe that it 
 would not have taken place under any other circumstances; in 
 like manner, as many persons would never have been able to see 
 through the baseness of the French, had it not been for what 
 has now occurred. Our domestic life, however, will, I think, 
 not be exposed to the same interruptions as during the last 
 years ; and I shall hardly be induced to separate myself 
 again from wife and children, although we may be placing 
 a secret enemy in our rear, by allowing the King of Saxony 
 to be reinstated at Dresden. But fearful things will and 
 
 must still take place on other points 
 
 I hope you will see our Arndt often, and that you will 
 derive much pleasure from his society. You will, I am sure, 
 find his mind and heart as fresh as ever. Among you, I dare 
 say, he is even more thoroughly in his element than here. I 
 only wish that he could obtain a settled position in life — ■ 
 although I do not see how it is to be accomplished — and then, 
 what is more, a domestic circle of his own. After all, dearest 
 Lotte, this is and ever will be the most important thing in life, 
 and I thank God daily for my Jette and the children. How- 
 
OPINIONS ON EDUCATION. 251 
 
 ever, the thought that they will most likely not have me long 
 with them, sometimes makes me very sad. 
 Give my heartiest regards to all your people. 
 
 [cccxcv.] N« date. 
 
 Dear sister, I do not know whether I shall have time 
 to write more than a few words, and I will, therefore, begin 
 with the most important. It relates to your boys. I can by 
 no means agree in your views, when you speak of keeping 
 them under your own roof until they are seventeen; and I 
 earnestly wish that I could give you the lively conviction 
 which I myself entertain, that the very opposite is right. 
 Unfortunately, these matters can only be thoroughly discuss. I 
 face to face, when each has an opportunity of expressing him- 
 self fully. But I am firmly persuaded that a boy ought by 
 all means from his fourteenth year already to be brought up 
 in a large community, and to enjoy public instruction, which 
 is always conducted on a much grander scale than it is 
 possible to attain to at home. Boys who live in large cities 
 are indeed best off, as they may combine these advantages 
 with home life. But when that is not possible, I am con- 
 vinced that all the benefits which are supposed to be derived 
 from a longer stay under the parental roof cannot by any 
 means outweigh the disadvantages. First of all as regards 
 the acquisition of knowledge, it has been sufficiently proved 
 that at home the strict order and regularity which rules 
 in schools can never prevail. Secondly, the very best of 
 tutors cannot accomplish as much as is accomplished in even 
 a moderately good school, where the various branches of 
 instruction are judiciously divided among several teachers, 
 who work into each other's hand-. And if between the ages 
 of fourteen and seventeen a solid foundation be not laid, and 
 a certain extent of knowledge acquired, what has thus been 
 lost can never be regained. Viewed from this ride, indeed, 
 the matter is self-evident and beyond dispute; but, perhaps, 
 it will be less evident to you that the same holds good in 
 regard to the formation of character. It is believed that in 
 
252 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 their homes boys are better secured against temptation, and 
 are made more religious. As far as regards religion, you 
 need not be alarmed. Even without having done much 
 towards it directly, you must have laid a foundation of piety 
 in your children, and even at a distance your influence in this 
 direction will continue, and may indeed be greater if the boys 
 feel themselves leading a life conducive to their progress, and 
 consequently most satisfactory to you, than it would be at 
 home if they felt themselves out of place there. One invalu- 
 able advantage afforded by schools is, that there the sense of 
 right is developed, and the boy acquires a feeling of self- 
 dependence. It is these two qualities that make the man. 
 And observe, that almost all men who have remained too 
 long in the paternal home prove themselves in some way or 
 other wanting in manliness — they are either irresolute, or 
 incapable, or deficient in public spirit. Now at seventeen it 
 is too late to acquire the two qualities in question ; at that 
 age the youth will always feel himself a stranger among those 
 who have gone through this schooling at an earlier age, and 
 will also be deprived of that support, which early intimacies 
 and friendships would afford him 
 
 In August, 1816, Schleiermacher's wife and daughters 
 went to Pomerania and Rügen, on a visit to Mrs. 
 Schleiermacher's brothers and sisters, and somewhat 
 later lie himself made a trip to Hamburgh, Kiel, &c., 
 and ultimately to Rügen, to bring back wife and chil- 
 dren. The following letters are from this period: — 
 
 Schleiermacher to his Wife. 
 
 [cccxcvi.] Berlin, IBth August, 1810. 
 
 .... I have had two bad days, and suffered 
 much, especially yesterday evening, when I had a severe 
 attack on my way hither from town. It is to be hoped 
 
MESMERISM. 253 
 
 t] ia t F 's* prophecy has thus been fulfilled; but I know 
 
 with certainty that I have not neglected any one of her pre- 
 cautions. 
 
 I have given up the hope now of escaping all attacks 
 during my travels ; nevertheless, I shall enjoy the latter, and 
 if I can only be thrown into the magnetic sleep when we 
 return, I shall soon be better. Pray do not fancy me worse 
 than I am ; I am by no means broken down and miserable, 
 only not quite as well as when at the best. Ehrenfried goes 
 about wailing at the dull life without mother and sisters. As 
 for myself, dear heart, I do not say much about it, but I feel 
 it the more, and I become more and more conscious öf what 
 a lively influence you and the children exercise over me. It 
 is fortunate that I have got through my ethics, for at present 
 I should not be able to do anything. Our outward life, also, 
 is rather dull. I have been obliged each day to work during 
 tea-time, and it has, therefore, passed off in perfect silence. 
 Yesterday the Savignys went out to the garden-house, but 
 did not stay to tea, and were gone before I arrived, and these 
 
 * This friend of the family, a confirmed invalid, had hecome 
 clairvoyante, in consequence of a long course of mesmeric treat- 
 ment. During her states of lucidity she was in the habit of indi- 
 cating (under the guidance of a medical man) what she thought 
 might be good for persons suffering under various ailments. She 
 had given much attention to the case of Schleiermach cr also, who had 
 for years been subject to violent attacks of cramps in the stomach, 
 which had baffled all the skill of the physicians, and threatened to 
 put an early limit to his life. Even independently of their prac- 
 tical bearings, the mesmeric and clairvoyante states, which were 
 mostly connected with a deeply religious spirit, exercised great 
 attraction over Schleiermachcr's wife, whose enthusiastic mind was 
 deeply imbued with mysticism and a love of the marvellous, and 
 who saw in these states the possibility for man to place himself in im- 
 mediate connection with the Holiest and the Highest, ^chleiermacher 
 has expressed his views of mesmerism and its various phenomena 
 in a letter to Charlotte von Käthen, which will appear in the sequel. 
 Through the mesmeric treatment he was ultimately entirely cured of 
 the painful hereditary disease under which he suffered for so many 
 years, and never had a return of it during the latter part of his life. 
 
254 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 are the only evening visitors we have had. I give my hearty 
 regards to all. I must go off now to a meeting of the faculty ; 
 when that is over, I shall work quietly at my sermon, and 
 then probably dine at Bergs. 
 
 [cccxcvn.] Saturday Evening, 2£th August. 
 
 At last, dearest heart, a letter from you has arrived. 
 I received it yesterday afternoon. The time seemed very 
 long to me while waiting for it. Thanks be to God that it 
 contains nothing but good accounts of you and the children. 
 Ah ! and even that you are a little anxious about me, does my 
 heart good. Yesterday I was thinking a great deal of that 
 day three years ago. It was a noble time, with all its 
 anxieties. Nevertheless, I am not sorry that it is over, and 
 that I am able in imdisturbed activity and calm affection to 
 gather strength for the new times that are to come, if, indeed, 
 I should live to see them. I feel deeply convinced, dearest, 
 that we shall be able to bear anything with each other, and 
 that you will come forth more nobly from every new trial. 
 Sleep well, dear heart ; 1 must go to bed, or you 
 will chide me, for it is eleven o'clock. From a true heart I 
 commend you to God, and pray for his blessing upon you, my 
 only consolation, for whom I thank Him daily, when you are 
 with me and when you are absent. Kiss all the little people 
 for me. 
 
 [cccxcvm.] Tuesday, 27th, Evening. 
 
 I was delighted, dear heart, that your second letter 
 also arrived on one of my good days, when I could thoroughly 
 
 enjoy it F has prescribed a number of rules 
 
 for me, and seems upon the whole to be without any anxiety 
 about my journey, although she said once, with some appear- 
 ance of alarm, "If they could but wait until Friday !" The 
 worst of it is with this kind of prophets, that they are so apt 
 to mislead you. However, it is not in my character to allow 
 myself to be detained by anything of the kind, for she said 
 nothing distinctly, and it would entirely have upset our plan. 
 
MESMERISM. 255 
 
 Hitherto, indeed, everything seems very favourable. The 
 
 weather has improved very much since yesterday, and as I 
 shall be provided with numerous amulets, and still more rules 
 and prescriptions, I trust everything will go on well. To- 
 day I have retired from the rectorship, having employed the 
 last hours of it in a kind of examination. The sermons have 
 been placed in safety, but all the other papers remain in the 
 greatest confusion, and Plato has not been finished. But never 
 mind, my trunk is packed, and to-morrow morning at five we 
 start. I am going to meet you, it is true, dearest heart, and yet 
 it seems to me that my temporary widowerhood is only now 
 beginning, as hereafter I shall have very little chance of hear- 
 ing from you. Ah, write away as rapidly as you can, those 
 letters are always the best. Why should my enjoyment in 
 reading them be spoilt by the thought that they had cost you 
 trouble ? From eight o'clock until noon I have been sitting 
 still writing, while Nanni has been running about packing 
 Thank God that I can feel so easy about you and the chil- 
 dren. Kiss the dear mites for me, and greet all friends 
 heartily. I am longing very much once more to mix in their 
 life ; but you do not say a word to make me think that they 
 care to see me. Adieu. A thousand kisses. 
 
 [cccxcix.] Hamburgh, Saturday Evening, 31st. 
 Oh, had I not to write with thick tavern ink ! But 
 this is one of the petty miseries of life which it is difficult to 
 conquer. My pen, also, is not of the best, as I have mended 
 it by candlelight, and my narrative will no doubt bear the 
 traces of both evils. You may judge from these preliminary 
 complaints, dear heart, that nothing very important has oc- 
 curred 
 
 I have not as yet seen many people, except Louisa Eeichardt, 
 D. Sieveking, and the family Perthes. To-morrow, however, 
 we are to dine at Flotbek with the Sieveking circle, which is 
 said to comprise many interesting persons. To-day we have 
 been running about in the city, on the exchange, and in the 
 •harbour. Hamburgh gives one an impression of great aniina- 
 
256 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 tion and great commercial activity. In this point it seems 
 grander than Francfort, but on the other hand it has not so 
 antique and historical a character. 
 
 Schleier maclier to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [cccc] Berlin, 9th January, 1817. 
 
 Dearest sister, I cannot resist the temptation to inter- 
 vene in your and Jette's discussions upon mesmerism and its 
 various phenomena, more particularly as my case in relation 
 to these is so frequently referred to by you both. Not that I 
 would endeavour to shake the resolution that you have taken, 
 to have nothing to do with it, though at one time you seemed 
 so greatly attracted by it ; but under existing circumstances I 
 look upon it as a duty, which I owe to you and to the friends 
 surrounding you, to explain my views on the subject as far as 
 this is possible without writing a whole essay. Partly that 
 you may not be attributing to me opinions and beliefs which 
 I do not entertain, partly also because you all seem to me to 
 look at the subject from a wrong point of view. 
 
 Through scientific experiments the phenomenon which we 
 designate by the name of animal magnetism, has gradually 
 been discovered. Again, that aspect of it that relates to the 
 nervous system, and through this to the whole animal economy 
 of man, has been introduced into medical practice after a 
 scries of experiences very nearly as complete as that which 
 any other curative system has been subjected to, and I cannot 
 therefore acknowledge that there is any moral objection to the 
 use of mesmerism more than to the use of any other medicine. 
 There are other curative means as well, in regard to which it 
 cannot either be ascertained with exactness beforehand what 
 secondary effects they may produce upon the body or even 
 upon the mind, as for instance, quicksilver, cantharides, bella- 
 donna, and many other poisons. As in regard to these the 
 patient depends upon the judgment of his physician, so also in 
 regard to mesmerism ; and on the physician devolves the duty 
 
MESMERISM. 257 
 
 of observing in each ease what relation the secondary effects 
 bear to the primary, and of acting accordingly. 
 
 If, however, an individual should say, I will rather die 
 than allow myself to be cured in this way — this is a matter 
 which every one must settle with his own conscience, but he 
 must not make his decision a rule for others. The same holds 
 good in regard to the secondary effects of magnetism. The 
 so-called lucid states are mostly temporary and entirely 
 limited to the period of sleep, are quite disconnected, and 
 exercise no influence over the rest of the patient's life. For a 
 
 phenomenon such as F , * is quite exceptional. I cannot 
 
 see therefore why any one should hesitate to avail himself of 
 this means of cure, when recommended by his physician, be- 
 cause he might possibly fall into these temporary states, which, if 
 he so chooses, may be allowed to pass by Avithout in any way 
 being used. As for what has been said of the mental depend- 
 ence in which the patient is brought to the magnetizer, this is 
 in the most cases untrue, and where it does exist, it will probably 
 be found to be nothing more than the affection and confidence 
 which other patients feel for a highly valued family doctor. 
 
 I have not yet seen Schubert's new book He 
 
 is quite right not to undertake any magnetic cures, and ought 
 never to have allowed himself to do so, as he is not a doctor, 
 and would never think of undertaking other cures. He 
 cannot, therefore, have had the same feeling of confidence, 
 and as a matter of course the secondary effects produced 
 Tinder his treatment must have assumed a distinct character, 
 because he stood in a very different relation to the persons 
 practised upon from that of a regular physician. If there- 
 fore his experiences were such as to alarm him and warn him 
 not to continue, he may attribute this to himself. In fine, I 
 would never hesitate to allow any person who is dear to me 
 to be magnetized on the recommendation of a physician, and 
 by a duly qualified person; but I would keep a watchful eye 
 on the secondary effects produced, in like manner as I would 
 were they subjected to any other drastic remedy. 
 * In her case this limitation did not exist. 
 
 VOL. II. S 
 
258 LIEE OF SCHLEIEKMACHEK. 
 
 Further, as regards the medical advice given by persons in 
 the mesmeric state, when their attention is directed towards 
 the ailments of others, I do not see why a physician should 
 be denied the right to ask this advice and to turn it to 
 account. It is a use which he makes of a state which he has 
 himself called forth, and a use in immediate connection with 
 his profession. It seems to me to be nothing more than 
 when he takes the lymph from a person whom he has inocu- 
 lated with the cow-pox, to vaccinate another person. As for 
 the confidence to be placed in the advice given, that is a 
 matter for the physician's own judgment; and for this very 
 reason a man who knows nothing of medicine ought not to 
 seek such advice, because he has not the means of judging 
 of its value, and because, moreover, the answer given to a 
 porson ignorant of the art will no doubt be very different to 
 that given to a man that has studied it. 
 
 I should never have asked F to turn her attention to 
 
 my case, and, indeed, I did not even approve of Wolfart's 
 doing so, as I was totally unknown to her, and it seemed to me 
 to be an act of indiscretion. However, that was his affair, not 
 mine; and I have only followed the advice given in as far as 
 Meier, who is my regular medical attendant, approved of it, 
 or, at least, declared it to be innocuous ; contrary to the desire 
 of my doctor I would never have used it. Thus, also, it has 
 been in the case of the drops, as I hereby repeat for the 
 tranquillization of all those who have seen me use them, and 
 who have witnessed their beneficial effects. From the very 
 beginning Meier limited me in the use of them, in so far that 
 he told me I must cease to take them as soon as I perceived 
 
 that they caused loss of appetite or nausea; F had fixed 
 
 a limit of time. I saw that Jette was very desirous that I 
 should adhere to the directions of the latter; but I would 
 hardly have done this under any circumstances, or had I 
 done so it would have been contrary to my own convictions 
 and merely for the sake of making her easy — lor which pur- 
 pose I may, and do sometimes, either wholly or partially 
 give up my own convictions — had not tin.' nausea and the 
 
MESMEEISM. '259 
 
 loss of appetite come on previous to the expiration of the 
 time. 
 
 Respecting the mental phenomena of mesmerism, my opi- 
 nion is this: I would by no means consider it sinful if any 
 one allowed himself to be magnetized by a man well ac- 
 quainted with the art, for the purpose of instituting experi- 
 ments in regard to the phenomena. And why ? Because 
 we are called upon to make ourselves acquainted with all the 
 phenomena of nature. Forgive me for saying so, but it does 
 seem to me very strange that the men who surround you 
 should tell you that magnetism is an unfathomable thing; 
 for how can we know this until we have examined into it, 
 except in as far as all things are unfathomable? but this 
 ought not to prevent us from trying to penetrate into them 
 as deeply as we can. As it is, Ave have not, indeed, gained 
 any very deep insight into the power in question, because, 
 judging from all experiments hitherto made, magnetism pro- 
 duces no effects on a health)' body. It is, therefore, only sick 
 persons that are mesmerized, and these, of course, are to will 
 nothing but to be well, as also their physician is to be in- 
 tent on nothing but to make them well. And even in 
 invalids the physician cannot arbitrarily produce the higher 
 phenomena, nor can the patient do so. This has been fully 
 proved by the cases of various patients who have ardently 
 desired to be thrown into the state of somnambulism without 
 having been able to effect it. 
 
 On the other hand, there are many nicsmerizers who be- 
 lieve that it depends upon their will to produce the state of 
 clairvoyance; however, this has by no means been established 
 as a fact : but when the higher phenomena — such as the 
 power of seeing at a distance, or into the future — do appear 
 I should not either consider it sinful of the patient to allow 
 his physician, or any other scientific man, to ask questions 
 of him, while in the lucid state, which might conduce to 
 throw light upon the nature of the phenomena, provided 
 these questionings did not interfere with the progress of the 
 cure. But though I should not consider it sinful, I believe 
 
 g 'I 
 
260 LIFE OF SCHLEIEKMACIIER. 
 
 it -would be useless; for such experiments could never lead 
 to any satisfactory result, as the state of the patient would be 
 disturbed by outward influences. However, to make use of 
 the somnambulic state of a patient for such experiments, with- 
 out his consent, that I would consider sinful, because we have 
 no right to make any human being the object of an experi- 
 ment without his own consent, or, in other words, we have no 
 right to reduce him to the level of a lifeless thing. 
 
 As to whether or not we are allowed to make ourselves 
 acquainted with these higher phenomena, I would not under- 
 take to lay down any general rule, except in as far as our 
 duties towards the sick may be concerned. Many persons 
 have reason to keep themselves aloof from everything that 
 may over-excite them ; and such would doubtless do best 
 not to fill their heads with these matters. Others would 
 derive nothing better from it than the useless satisfaction 
 of their idle curiosity, and such I would never allow to 
 approach a patient of this kind ; for we ought never to make 
 an idle spectacle of a human being. But any one who stood 
 beforehand in a personal relation to a mesmeric patient, as, 
 
 for instance, Jette to F , or any one who has a serious 
 
 purpose in endeavouring to make himself more thoroughly 
 acquainted with the phenomena, Avhy should he not seek to 
 become a witness of them ? I would always admit physicians, 
 naturalists, and philosophers into the presence of clairvoyant 
 patients (provided the latter did not object to it, and there 
 was no fear of its being injurious to them), even when in 
 their most ecstatic states ; although sick persons (and, if we 
 would judge correctly, we must not forget that clairvoyants 
 are always in a sickly state) can, of course, never be regarded 
 as public characters, and their mental activity does not, 
 therefore, belong to the sphere of public life. 
 
 My opinion in regard to the nature of these mental phe- 
 nomena, and to their truth, is this: any distinction between 
 the natural and the supernatural, between the comprehensible 
 and the incomprehensible, I do not, upon the whole, recog- 
 nize. Everything is in one sense natural, and in another 
 
MESMERISM. 261 
 
 supernatural. Even that the Son of God was made man 
 must, in a higher sense, be natural. 
 
 In what category the magnetic phenomena are to be placed 
 is still a subject of inquiry ; but, in order to obtain to a 
 knowledge of this, we must observe them. It may be said, 
 in general, that by changes introduced in the physical condi- 
 tions, certain limits to which the mind is usually subject are 
 for a time removed. To the removal of such limitations, 
 indeed, Ave owe all that is sublime and divine in the ancient 
 prophecies ; for, otherwise, the men would not have been 
 men during the period of prophesying or of inspiration, but 
 would have been some other kind of beings. The greatest 
 interest attaching to the higher phenomena of mesmerism is 
 exactly this— that, when well understood, they will tend to 
 throw new light on the original and essential range of the 
 mental capacities of man ; and in connection with this, no 
 doubt, also on many points relating to the dark ages and 
 sacred history of all nations. Finally, as regards the amount 
 of truth in these phenomena, and the amount of credence to 
 be attached to them, I can only say that in human affairs 
 there is no more absolute distinction between the true and 
 the false than there is between the natural and the supernatural. 
 There is no error, even of the most pernicious kind, which 
 has not an admixture of truth or which is not connected 
 with some truth, and there is no truth that does not include 
 the possibility of error. This holds good even of the old 
 prophets. For, firstly, in believing that God specially called 
 upon them to prophesy, they were as liable to be mistaken as 
 other men ; secondly, the Bible itself shows cases in which 
 they resisted the voice of God ; and, thirdly, they beheld 
 events in images; and when they translated these into words, 
 the ecstatic state had already ceased, and their representations 
 might therefore contain errors or misunderstandings. The 
 same is the case with people in the mesmeric state. They 
 also behold almost everything in visions ; the putting of these 
 into words is no longer part of the original superior activity, 
 during which the usual limitations are removed, but is in a 
 
262 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEB. 
 
 great measure an interpretation of the visions rendered through 
 means of the ordinary human faculties; and, therefore, error 
 is more likely to attach to the interpretations than to the 
 visions themselves. I even anticipate that it will ultimately 
 be possible to ascertain and determine, by close observation of 
 somnambulists, on whose' good faith one may implicitly rely, 
 which visions they can explain and interpret with the greatest 
 correctness, and which with the least. But if the original and 
 increased activity be really owing to the removal of limita- 
 tions otherwise existing, it follows that, in as far as truth is 
 the essence of the human mind in all its branches of activity, 
 the higher activity must necessarily embrace a greater amount 
 of truth than the lower; but only on condition that the state 
 induced be left undisturbed. For this reason every distinct 
 question put is, in a manner, a violation of the mesmeric 
 state (and herein consisted the offence of the heathens in re- 
 gard to the ancient oracles), which, if a pure result is to be 
 obtained, must be left entirely undisturbed, to work it out of 
 itself. Indeed, he who cannot approach a spirit thus libe- 
 rated and elevated, without such arbitrary interference, should 
 rather stay away altogether. But, on the other hand, I cannot 
 understand the great reluctance to approach persons in this 
 state ; and I do not see why the mesmerized patient, who is 
 besides a suffering individual, should be further punished by 
 being deprived of all friendly relations with others. This 
 reluctance seems to me either to arise from weakness or 
 cowardice. It is true there may be individuals who have a 
 special repugnance to witness such states, and they ought to 
 be exempted; but it ought not, therefore, to be considered a 
 proof of unusual morality and piety, when a person gives 
 way to this repugnance even under circumstances that would 
 render it natural that he should be present during the pheno- 
 mena. F falls asleep each time I come in to her, and give; 
 
 her my hand. Now if, in consequence of such repugnance as 
 I have mentioned, I should refuse to see a person in such 
 friendly relations with my wife, I should not by any means 
 consider the refusal praiseworthy. 
 
MESMERISM. 263 
 
 But I am shocked to find that I have written a whole 
 volume, and I pity you who are to read it. I began by candle- 
 light, and could not find a pen to suit me. One thing more 
 I must add : I cannot in the least understand, and must beg 
 you once more to explain, what you mean when you say you 
 fear that the contemplation of such phenomena may render 
 people unfit for the ordinary avocations of human life. 
 
 And now a few words on other subjects. My health is, 
 thank God, progressing as favourably as I have any right to 
 expect; I have, at times, slight reminiscences of the evil, but 
 very rarely, and I feel more brisk and animated than I have 
 been for a long while, for which reason I am also as indus- 
 trious as circumstances will allow. We must strike the iron 
 while it is hot ; but as I do not believe in a complete cure, but 
 anticipate relapses, I am careful not to overwork myself, lest 
 I may thereby accelerate a return of the paroxysms. Jette 
 has written to you about our hopes, which I am sure have con- 
 tributed not a little to renovate my life. I acknowledge it with 
 gratitude and feel very happy ! God grant it may go off well ! 
 This also gives you a delightful object for your visit to us. 
 Do not come until the late autumn, when I shall have returned 
 from the vacation ramble which I shall probably take, and when 
 Jette will be quite well again ; that is to say, about the begin- 
 ning of October. By that time the expected little one will be 
 in its third month, and old enough to afford you pleasure as a 
 plaything. I am of opinion that we ought to send our Jette to 
 you this summer, and I dare say my wife will eventually make 
 up her mind to it. Your Lotte is a much prized guest among 
 OS, and her tone of voice, movements, and expression of coun- 
 tenance often remind me of you in a most pleasing manner. 
 
261 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACIIER. 
 
 Being in very ill-health, Schleiermacher undertook, in 
 August, 1817, a tour of recreation in Thuringia, during 
 which he wrote the subjoined letters to his wife. 
 
 Schleiermacher to his Wife. 
 
 [cccci.] Dessau, Saturday Evening, August, 1817. 
 
 From Potsdam and Belitz I might have written the 
 most charming letters : since then I have grown more and 
 more lazy, and am now so thoroughly incrustated that I look 
 upon my present act of writing as one of great heroism. I 
 have noAv only a faint recollection of how sad and yet how 
 happy and grateful I felt then under the beautiful vault of 
 heaven, with the heavy rain-clouds near the horizon from which 
 burst forth flashes of lightning from time to time, while over 
 my head the stars shone out brightly. But I seemed quite 
 ridiculous in my own eyes, indeed almost wicked, when I 
 thought of how, without any real object in view, but merely 
 following a blind instinct, I had torn myself away from you 
 all and thrown myself into the carriage. "What I remember 
 best of all is a funny misadventure in consequence of which I 
 might have been safely and soundly lodged with you again 
 this morning. The driver from Berlin, being unacquainted 
 with the post station at Belitz, drove in at the wrong end of 
 the shed, so that the horses' heads were turned towards Potsdam 
 and Berlin. Fortunately, just as I was about to get into the 
 carriage again, I remembered the story of the Jew from Lissa 
 who was going to Leipzig, and I cried out to the postilion : 
 " Take care and don't drive me to Potsdam." He stared, and 
 answered : "Not to Potsdam ! to what place then ? " In short, 
 the whole expedition had been made out for Potsdam, and all 
 the entries had to be made over again. 
 
 This little land, Dessau, has made the usual delightful im- 
 pression upon me; but at the present moment it appears to 
 me like an orphan, because of the old duke's death. I shall 
 proceed farther at once, and hope to get some hours' sleep 
 in Halle. After that I shall be more brisk, but by that 
 
VACATION 1SAMBLES. 265 
 
 time the mail will have left, and I have therefore preferred to 
 write these lines from this place. God preserve you, my only 
 beloved, and the whole house. Continue to love your roving 
 husband. 
 
 [CCCCH.] Gotha, 27th August, 1817. 
 
 Dearest wife, I found your two letters of 19th and 23rd 
 instant awaiting me here. I could not refrain from tears on 
 reading them; but they were unmixed tears of joy ; for they did 
 not begin to flow until, having finished perusing your letter, I 
 began to read those from the young ones. Dear heart ! how 
 blessed are we in every way, and how full of joyful thankfulness 
 we ought to be. Afterwards, I felt a little sad again in thinking 
 of the special matters mentioned by you. Previously all my 
 thoughts of you had been cheerful, because at a distance we 
 only see things as a whole, and I felt assured that no evil 
 would befall you and the little folks. The lower sphere of 
 
 the servants never came into my mind 
 
 When writing to you from Dessau, dear heart, I was really 
 quite conscious of all my love for you ; but you know how 
 driving stupefies me. How much drier still must not my other 
 letters have seemed to you ! I only hope that they have not 
 made you sad. If so, you have done me great injustice. 
 Though not exactly exhausted, I arrived at each place in a 
 state of great depression, and the want of rest and the absence 
 of outward comfort in the inns, in addition to this, has no 
 doubt caused me to be so unlike myself. I felt, indeed, that 
 my letters were nothing more than bulletins of my health and 
 notices of my places of rest, and I hoped that you would not 
 
 expect more from them 
 
 We have now accomplished the largest portion of our 
 tour, and since last Wednesday at noon, until to-day at noon, 
 i.e. exactly seven days, we have been constantly in motion, 
 and have certainly travelled upwards of thirty miles. I 
 reserve all details for verbal communication, and will now- 
 only tell you, that the journey has in every respect been pro- 
 fitable to me, and I rejoice more especially in the feeling of 
 
266 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHEK. 
 
 health that I have derived from it. For I have tried every- 
 thing, fatigue, thorough -wetting, evening air, and constant 
 changes of diet, and I have borne it all well. Blanc, who is 
 full of health and cheerfulness, has never had his patience 
 tried by me, and I have not once felt my stomach, though I 
 have put it to severe trials. Sometimes this has inspired me 
 with the foolish thought that perhaps mental labours are no 
 longer suited for my age and my bodily powers, and that it is 
 time that I should think of a country parsonage, where I 
 could live more amid nature and for myself* But then 
 again, when I reflect upon all that I have still to do, and which 
 I think it is my duty to do, I give up the thought, and hope 
 that, even in spite of mental labours, I shall be able, with 
 care, to preserve my health some time longer. 
 
 Embrace the children for me, and tell them that the long 
 walks in the mountains make father so tired that he can only 
 write to mother. 
 
 [ccccjii.] Ebersdorff) BOih August, 1817. 
 
 Read out this name at once to old Lotte, f dear heart, 
 that she may rejoice to know me in one of the establishments 
 of the congregation. We have come into quarters in very 
 good time, and this gives me a little leisure for writing, but 
 not much, for I want to pay a visit to the pastor, who is no 
 doubt an old fellow-student from Barby, and we intend to go 
 to a meeting, and have besides to make entries in our mine- 
 ralogical diaries and to study for to-morrow. 
 
 Yesterday we made a long tour from Saalfeld to the top of 
 the mountain ridge. The valley of the Saale is lovely indeed, 
 and also very interesting from the mineralogical point of view, 
 but the farther we left this behind us, and the higher we 
 mounted, the more sterile and the less beautiful nature be- 
 came, and the people had no longer the same true-hearted, 
 frank, and cheerful manners that had pleased us so much in 
 the inhabitants of the lower parts of the mountains 
 
 * This plan of eventually retiring to a country parsonage, was 
 often mootud by Schleiermacher. 
 
 f His sister Charlotte, who was then living in his house. 
 
VACATION KAMI! LKS. 267 
 
 My state of mind while amid a congregation of the United 
 Brethren is always very peculiar. The greater part of my 
 youth and the decisive moment in regard to the entire develop- 
 ment of my life, are forcibly recalled to my mind. This point 
 of transition, however casual it may appear on the one hand, 
 seems to me on the other to have been so strictly neces- 
 sary, that I cannot at all conceive myself without it. And 
 though it would be quite impossible for me to live within the 
 timid limitations of a congregation of brethren, the quiet 
 simple life that reigns there makes such a refreshing impres- 
 sion on me, when contrasted with the noisy vanities of the 
 world, that I cannot help feeling and thinking, that were 
 these communities to be reorganized and modified in accord- 
 ance with the spirit of the times, they might be converted 
 into delightful and most enviable places of abode 
 
 It almost vexes me that I have not written you more really 
 descriptive letters, not that I care to depict the landscapes to 
 you, but that I might have recorded my impressions, and 
 have shown you how in each case a remembrance of you was 
 in some way or other awakened. But. in truth, I was not able 
 to do so, because time and the necessary materials (which in 
 the present case, also, are of the very worst description) were 
 almost always wanting. 
 
 This forenoon we were in Lobenstcin, the residence of a 
 Prince of Eeuss, who was a comrade of mine at Nieaky and 
 Barby. I meant to call upon him, but he was absent from 
 home. When we were at college together, his prospects of 
 coming to the government were very uncertain, and we often 
 teased him about it. He has now attained what was then the 
 highest object of his wishes ; but he is already married a 
 second time, and is childless ; and I could not help thinking 
 how much happier a man I am than he. Were I but again 
 at your side, and all the distracting festivities over, and our 
 quiet winter life begun ! Dear heart, there can hardly be 
 happier people in the world than we may ever be, if we can 
 but keep sufficiently aloof from the world, and learn to bear 
 cheerfully the petty annoyances of life. And I trust we shall 
 
268 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 day by day succeed better in so doing. When I consider 
 how much wiser we have already grown, and how much 
 better I have become through you, I despair of nothing 
 that may still lie before us. God bless you and strengthen 
 you 
 
 [cccciv.] JRudolstadt, Sunday, 3 Is*, Evening. 
 
 We arrived here after a delightful, though rather 
 
 warm walk God grant that I may find you and 
 
 every one else so well and full of life on my return, as I hope 
 to be ; for the journey seems to do me a great deal of good. 
 
 Perhaps you may have heard of me through F , if she 
 
 has succeeded in seeing me in her visions, as I have often 
 wished and secretly hoped. 
 
 . . . . Only two days more I shall be moving farther 
 away from you ; after that I shall daily be drawing nearer to 
 you again. This morning again I awoke in the midst of a 
 dream about you, my dear heart. May you have enjoyed 
 many happy hours together with the pledges of our love ! My 
 own beloved wife, how thankful I ever feel to you for being 
 mine ! I fold you to my heart in imagination, and cover your 
 hand with innumerable kisses. Embrace the little people for 
 me, and give them many hearty messages. Tell Lotte that I 
 am bringing her some poems by Albertini, which I have not 
 myself read as yet. A thousand farewells ! 
 
 In the autumn of 1818, Schleiermacher again made 
 a tour with Georg Reimer and Leopold von Plehwe 
 (then an officer in the guards in Berlin), to the country 
 around Salzburg, the Tyrol, Munich, &c. ; during 
 which the following letters were written : — 
 
 [ccccv.] Linz, 10th September, 1818. 
 
 . . . . We were unfortunately detained a few 
 hours in Toplitz, and could not even avail ourselves of these 
 
VACATION RAMBLES. 269 
 
 to look about us, because we Avere told every instant that 
 the horses were coming ; thus we only arrived in Prague at 
 nine o'clock on Sunday morning, after having travelled all 
 through the night. The very first view one gets of the city, 
 with its numberless towers, is very imposing ; but it is from 
 the Hradschin that it appears in its greatest splendour. The 
 people seem to be quite indifferent to all the beautiful monu- 
 ments that surround them, and to all the great memories that 
 are attached to them, and appear to be utterly unconscious that, 
 with their Protestantism and their religious liberty, they lost 
 all their dignity. Many of the churches are in ruin, and, with 
 the exception of the old cathedral, those that are the most 
 accessible are from the later period when the Jesuits ruled, 
 and are consequently in a tasteless style. The cathedral is a 
 noble, but unfinished edifice, in Gothic style, with a few good 
 paintings; beneath it the history of Bohemia lies interred. 
 The church music that we heard was in the style of modern 
 opera music, but not bad of its kind. The voices were beau- 
 tiful, the execution on the organ, as well as the organ itself, 
 very fine. We saw some rather good works of art in the 
 Standisch Gallery, which owes its origin to a noble idea, and 
 which is to me a proof that the Bohemian nobles stand far 
 above the British. Friedrich* told us that the environs of 
 Dresden were on a very small scale, when compared to those 
 of Prague; and although the view from the bridge at Dresden 
 is in itself more beautiful than that from the bridge at Prague, 
 and the Moldau bridge itself is not more beautiful, though 
 more splendid than that of Dresden, I cannot but agree with 
 him, because of the view from the Hradschin, and the im- 
 posing effect produced by the buildings. I was actually seized 
 with a shudder — a religious shudder — at the sight of the 
 immense Jesuit college, and with a political shudder at the 
 equally gigantic palace of Wallenstein. The palaces of the 
 other magnates are on a smaller scale, but yet grand, in the old 
 style. But what shall I say of the ruinous state of churches 
 and convents? Protestantism has been wrenched from the 
 * The great landscape painter. 
 
270 LIFE OF SCIILEIEKMACHER. 
 
 people with unheard-of cruelty, but Catholicism they cannot 
 prevent from rotting among them. 
 
 On Monday morning at ten o'clock we left Prague. The 
 country in the vicinity is no more than pleasantly undulating; 
 not until we reached Budweis, a really white town, with a 
 large market-place out of all proportion to its size, did the 
 high hills begin to reappear, and not until the next morning 
 did we find ourselves again completely among the mountains, 
 which here separate the territories of the Elbe from those of 
 the Danube, and which are more and more beautiful the far- 
 ther you advance. . . . The more beautiful the moun- 
 tains became towards morning, the more beautiful also became 
 the weather, and we crossed the Danube and made our entry 
 into this stately city under a bright sun. We have taken 
 up our abode in the market-place, which is surrounded by 
 four-storied houses with Italian roofs, and has a colossal foun- 
 tain in the middle, but which is never lighted up by the sun, 
 that seems never to rise above the saints on the house-tops. 
 Compared to the Danube, the Elbe near Dresden is a xery 
 child. 
 
 How I am longing for the first accounts from my dear ones 
 I cannot describe 
 
 Frankenmarht, on the road from Linz to Salzburg, 
 [ccccvi.] Frida?/, 11th, Evening. 
 
 . To-day we have only travelled twelve 
 short miles, but we took a circuitous route to see the Traun- 
 fall, and spent two hours in contemplation of this glorious 
 spectacle, which art and nature have combined to make most 
 interesting, and from which we could with difficulty tear oiu- 
 selves away, so that Ave did not reach our night quarters here 
 until eight o'clock in the evening, when we made our entry 
 to the sound of a very pretty tune, performed by our posti- 
 lion on his posthorn. The country on this side of the Danube 
 is even more beautiful than on the other. While in the 
 mountains we traversed the finest pine forests, with which 
 those of Silesia cannot even be compared : the valleys were 
 
VACATION RAMBLES. 271 
 
 covered with lovely and abundantly watered meadow lands ; 
 the hills, with rich arable soil ; potato helds were remarkably 
 scarce ; the whiter seed, in some parts, already sown, in 
 others, already sprouting ; cherry-trees as large as oaks ; and 
 everywhere a blessed abundance of apples, pears, plums, and 
 grapes. During our trip on the river, near Linz, we bought 
 twenty large peaches for two-and-a-half groschen of our 
 currency. The population are very good-natured, and we 
 have met with several pretty hostesses in the inns, who 
 seemed really virtuous. In the outward appearance of the 
 people, more especially of the women, great variety prevails ; 
 some are slim and graceful, others square and vigorous. 
 Near Linz, you see these slender, graceful figures carrying 
 fruit and vegetables to market on their heads, in large rlat 
 baskets, covered with the whitest cloths. The men, also, are 
 a frank, good-natured, sturdy race. Everything connected 
 with material life is good and handsome : the peasant houses, 
 in the villages and hamlets, are well built, and roofed with 
 shingles, and have green Venetian blinds in the windows ; the 
 smaller cottages arc like the chalets in the Alps. Manu- 
 factures are utterly neglected ; even the splendid Styrian iron 
 
 is excessively badly treated The administration 
 
 of the country seems to me even far more oppressive, annoy- 
 ing, and unwise than at home, as I will prove to you by 
 various amusing anecdotes when we meet. Taking all these 
 things together, one cannot help feeling here an immense 
 longing for the introduction of greater unity in Germany, in 
 order that this glorious land also might imbibe the spirit that 
 pervades the whole, and be regenerated by it. Catholicism, in 
 these parts, seems to me to be of a lukewarm kind : there are not 
 by far so many images of saints, so many pilgrimages, nor so 
 much bigotry, as in Bohemia; and our Protestantism, which 
 we are at no pains to conceal in public, when visiting 
 churches or otherwise, appears neither to alarm nor to pro- 
 voke the people. In Prague, on the contrary, they sometimes 
 scowled at us, when we omitted to dip our lingers in the holy 
 water, or to cross ourselves. 
 
272 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 From our sail on the Danube, I have still a few gleanings 
 to communicate. On account of the weather we were obliged 
 to divide it into two parts. In the morning we sailed up the 
 river from the city. Whether the Danube be here much 
 broader than that part of the Ehine we visited together, I 
 cannot say ; but, upon the whole, the stream is more rapid, 
 and the breadth more uniform throughout, but the banks less 
 interesting. Our goal was a monastery, which was founded 
 about six hundred years ago by two childless brothers, and 
 endowed with their entire landed estates. But during these 
 six hundred years, not a single remarkable man has ever 
 issued from this convent. The most that can be said of the 
 most renowned of its prelates is, that he was so fortunate as 
 to survive a great many misfortunes. In the afternoon we 
 sailed down the river below the city, and here the Danube 
 soon becomes much broader than the Rhine, and, with the 
 many islands on its bosom, appears in all its peculiar majesty. 
 The banks here, for about two miles, are mountainous on the 
 one side only. A few pistol shots were fired, which I thought 
 woiüd hardly reach the opposite bank, but I was mistaken, 
 and they produced, moreover, a splendid echo. 
 
 Forgive the disconnected manner in which I jot down all 
 this. I wish, as you cannot be here to enjoy with me, that I 
 could place everything vividly before you ; but I know that 
 description is not my forte, and therefore it would be much 
 better if you could travel, and I remain at home. I can 
 hardly hope to find a letter from you to-morrow, though I 
 have an inexpressible longing for one. God grant that all 
 may be well at home! I do not in the least fear that any- 
 thing very serious has happened ; but my thoughts about 
 home always take the form of the most fervent prayer, and of 
 the liveliest feeling, that my life and my happiness are kicked 
 up in you and the children. Good-night, it is high time for 
 me to go to bed, as we are to start to-morrow morning at four 
 o'clock. 
 
VACATION RAMBLES. 273 
 
 [ccccvu.] Berchtcsgaden, Tuesday, 15th, Evening. 
 
 The time spent in Salzburg -was not 
 thrown away. The people with whom we came most in 
 contact there, were the family of a bookseller, by name 
 
 Z . The husband perished in the great fire, and the 
 
 family lost almost everything. Keimer had rendered them 
 great services by collecting considerable sums for them, and 
 he was, in consequence, received with profound regard. On 
 Saturday morning we took a walk with the son through the 
 city, which is built in the form of a half-moon on each side 
 of the river, and is surrounded by mountains, but at a 
 greater distance than at Heidelberg. The public buildings 
 are in the grand old style of the ecclesiastical princes ; the 
 churches also are grand, but not in good taste, yet not over- 
 laden with ornamentation. Everywhere there are traces of 
 former well-being, but present decay, and on all sides great 
 dissatisfaction with the Austrian Government, which very 
 coolly and unconsciously, as it were, allows the parts to go to 
 destruction for the sake of the whole. 
 
 The evening previous to our starting for the mountains, 
 we invited a schoolmaster, who is well acquainted with them, 
 and who is a good botanist, to be our guide, and in company 
 with him we broke up at two o'clock in the afternoon, and 
 proceeded towards this place. During the first hour we were 
 soaked through and through by the clouds, which lay thick 
 and dense in the ravines and on the mountain tops, but I did 
 my best to keep the company in good humour. Subsequently 
 the sky cleared, and we arrived here in the finest weather. 
 The road was very beautiful. The snowclad giant mountains 
 appeared before us in succession ; we walked along the banks 
 of a rushing mountain stream, beheld the loveliest Alpine 
 pastures on all the slopes, covered with happy, well-fed cattle, 
 and Leopold Avas for ever firing off his pistols, and producing 
 the finest echoes. This morning we awoke under the happy 
 auspices of a blue sky and an unclouded sunrise, and started 
 at seven o'clock for the Konigsee, the beautiful dark greeö 
 waters of which are shut up between high mountains, which 
 
 VOL. II. T 
 
274 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 rise so immediately and so perpendicularly out of the lake, 
 that there are but few spots on which one can land. Our 
 road took us towards the further extremity of the lake, where 
 we were received in a huntsman's lodge, which is attached to 
 a monastery, and whence we proceeded afterwards, accom- 
 panied by the huntsman, on a little Alpine ramble, which 
 proved most satisfactory ; for we saw about ten chamois, also 
 saw and heard half a dozen small avalanches, and towards the 
 end of our ramble came upon a little glacier ; and thus during 
 a good hour's walk, we had learnt to know all the features of 
 Alpine scenery. To me the ramble was made still further 
 interesting by the presence of a botanizing gardener, who 
 knew, and with practised eye detected, many plants that were 
 unknown to me. In the middle of the lake there is a spot 
 (the only one on which it is allowed to fire a shot) where 
 there is a very fine echo, Avhich was not on this occasion 
 allowed to sleep. It rolls around you like thunder ; and when 
 the first ceases, the second takes up the sound still louder, 
 xmtil after a time it gradually dies away. The lake, sur- 
 rounded by steep rock walls, and with the snow-capped 
 mountains mirroring themselves in its 160 fathom deep but 
 tranquil waters, spread out like a glass in the bright sunshine, 
 afforded a spectacle of unique beauty. While sailing on its 
 bosom, Ave sang hymns from the hymn-book, not very cor- 
 rectly, but not, therefore, the less to the edification of all pre- 
 sent. On our return to this place, I had a very interesting 
 mineralogical conversation with Professor Kaiser from Norway, 
 whom I had seen in Berlin, and who had inquired for me in 
 Salzburg, and followed me hither. Our schoolmaster and the 
 gardener having left us to return home, we afterwards inspected 
 a curious depot of articles of bone and wood, made in the 
 locality, where we purchased some trifles for the children. 
 Subsequently we received a visit from a Catholic ecclesiastic, 
 who pleased me so much, that we parted from each other with 
 a brotherly kiss and with tearful eyes. It is a lovely, fresh, 
 moonlight night, and I have the best hopes of the weather to- 
 morrow. Every evening we drink to the health of No. 37, 
 
VACATION RAMBLES. 27-"> 
 
 Wilhelms Street,'* and do not in the least mind, should even 
 
 Mr. von B and II. L get tlieir share. 
 
 [CCCCVIH.] Sunday, 20th. 
 
 Our Wednesday tour was glorious, not 
 only as regard« our final goal, but as regards the whole route 
 thither. How often I have deplored that none of us can 
 draw! Snow and forest-covered mountains, rook walls, Alpine 
 meadows, waterfalls, ever new and ever greater beauties, now 
 narrow valleys, now broad ones, in which Ave found ourselves 
 surrounded by a circle of mountains, and where the pistol 
 shots called forth splendid echoes. Leopold looked quite 
 idyllic, with an Alpine nosegay in his button-hole and another 
 in his cap, with his pistol in his girdle, and his powder-flask 
 at his side. We travelled ten Stunden, about seven of our 
 miles, that day, and all bore it very well. On the Thursday 
 we meant to have travelled fourteen Stunden, as far as Gastein, 
 had the weather been favourable. But after the first three 
 Stunden, it began to rain ; and this not only upset our plan, 
 but also in a great measure spoilt our pleasure on the road, 
 which lay through similar and even more beautiful scenes 
 than those of the day before, more especially the views up 
 the Pinzgau, a mountain valley, the upper p;irt of which 
 stretches as far as the frontiers of the Tyrol. Perhaps you 
 know it by name from a song which is sung a great deal in 
 Berlin — The Pin;;/aucrs were going a Pilgrimage. In this 
 song the people are described as coarse and rude; but such 
 we have not found them. ( )n Thursday, after six hours' 
 march in the rain, we were obliged to stop in a little market 
 town, on the borders of the Pinzgau, to dry ourselves. At 
 the table in the inn, we found among others a regular Pinz- 
 gauer, with beer and brandy before him. lie entered into 
 conversation with us, and asked many questions ; and no 
 
 * Where Schleicrmacher then lived in the Sack Palace, which had 
 been purchased by Georg Keimer, and which, being surrounded by a 
 large parklike garden, obviated the necessity of Schleienuacher's 
 
 removal to the Thiergarten in summer. 
 
 T 2 
 
276 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 sooner had he discovered that we were Prussians, than he 
 broke out into praise of Prussia, and spoke out freely, giving 
 utterance to very sound political notions, expressing very great 
 contempt for the Austrian Government, and constantly alluding 
 to Prussia and Bavaria as the two pillars of Germany. He 
 was a fine, vigorous fellow, tall and broad shouldered, with a 
 Roman nose, clear blue eyes, and a healthy, manly colour. 
 When we got outside, he fell upon Leopold's neck and kissed 
 him. We proceeded two Stunden further, and were again 
 obliged to turn in somewhere to dry ourselves; and as the 
 rain never ceased, and we could get no horses to take us on 
 to Gastein, we were obliged to go into quarters. A meal was 
 prepared for us; and at half-past eight o'clock I said: " Chil- 
 dren, it is very late, we must go to bed," and the motion was 
 agreed to nein, con. The next morning, having secured horses, 
 we drove two miles further, through a beautiful wild ravine, 
 down which the Gasteinbach rushed foaming to meet us. As 
 the rain had ceased, we walked the last miles towards the 
 bathing-place, engaged lodgings, and then immediately pro- 
 ceeded to visit the mines. To reach these we had to mount 
 during three hours ; by that time we were some hundred feet 
 higher than the Schneekoppe ; but to reach the summit of the 
 mountain, which is more than 8,000 feet high, we would have 
 been obliged to mount during two hours more. Reimer did 
 not enter the mine with us, and I had the pleasure of being 
 the first to introduce the mining operations to Leopold. We 
 had waded a considerable part of our way up through snow ; 
 and when we came out of the galleries, it was snowing very 
 hard. Further down it was raining, and the heavens looked 
 so very little propitious, that we gave up the hope of carrying 
 out our plan. Early on Saturday morning, after having 
 feasted our eyes on the spectacle of the Gastein waterfall, 
 we recommenced our wanderings on foot; but after having 
 accomplished one mile, we were again obliged to have recourse 
 to a post-chaise. 
 
 It will soon be three weeks since I left you, and as yet I 
 have not had a word from you. These are the bitters of 
 
VACATION RAMBLES. 277 
 
 travelling. Greet the whole dear tribe of children, old Lotte, 
 
 P and K , and all friends, not forgetting 'my honest 
 
 Winkel.* As regards my remembrance of yon, there can be 
 no question of more or less; for you are ever present to me. 
 
 [ccccix.] Nürnberg, Friday, 2nd October. 
 
 Your second letter, dear heart, I found in Munich ; 
 but, though we prolonged our stay there four days, I could 
 not find a moment to write to you, so constantly was I handed 
 over from one person to another, and it would have been still 
 Avorse had I not so studiously avoided the grandees. For the 
 rest, one cannot help feeling respect for Munich. The city 
 has a stately appearance, though it isj not large ; but latterly 
 the gates have been thrown down, and its limits thus rendered 
 indefinite, and already large open squares and great buildings, 
 out of all proportion to the rest of the city, are springing up 
 on the outskirts. It is, however, the great scientific and 
 artistic institutions which inspire the greatest respect, and 
 these mostly date from a period when the state was not so 
 extensive by far as at present. There also great dissatisfaction 
 with the government prevails; but along with this there is 
 great union and much hope in the constitution, which has 
 already been granted and sworn to, and for the opening of 
 which preparations are now being made. People there showed 
 me an amount of friendliness that I caimot sufficiently ac- 
 knowledge, and old Jacobi was actually moved on seeing me. 
 We endeavoured to come to an understanding relative to our 
 views, but we got no further than to understand wherein the 
 difference between us consists ; and he always listened to me 
 yery good-naturedly when I told him that I thought his great 
 mistake was that he confounded this difference with another, 
 and Bought its foundation in the disposition of mind. I have 
 learnt to like him very much, and have requested permission 
 to write to him. With his sisters, also, I soon found myself 
 on a very friendly footing, and we playfully quarrelled and 
 teazed each other a good deal. We all three dined with 
 * A man who had been many years in his service. 
 
278 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEIt. 
 
 Jacobi every day, and- each time met some other guests : I 
 always managed to be the first to arrive and the last to depart. 
 Schelling was absent, which did not much distress me, more 
 particularly as I have not read his last productions, and 
 should have found it difficult to conceal this. Many interest- 
 ing persons of secondary importance I also missed, but I had 
 quite enough for the short time I was there, especially as 
 there were picture and sculpture galleries to be seen. As it 
 was, I could only give a very cursory glance at the library 
 and the numismatic collection. 
 
 Yesterday morning we arrived in Augsburg, visited the 
 town-house and the collection of pictures there, as also the 
 cathedral; ran through the principal streets; and started again, 
 after a hurried dinner, and travelled all through the night. 
 How much we have to see in this place I do not know, but I 
 hope we shall be able to leave to-morrow afternoon, and to 
 spend Sunday afternoon and evening with Jean Paul. 
 
 Augsburg reminds one of Frankfort-on-the-Maine; Nürn- 
 berg has a much more antique character ; and, in spite of 
 their ugliness and want of fertility, the environs bear the 
 traces of former wealth and of great commercial activity. 
 
 My thoughts are now constantly turning homewards, with 
 great joy at the approaching meeting with you all, but also 
 with some anxiety about the accumulation of work that 
 awaits me, and which will hardly allow me to settle down at 
 once to the quiet enjoyment of home-life. But you are 
 already aware of all this, and many of the details of my 
 journey, which I have saved for verbal communication, may, 
 if you wish to have them, be imparted while we are taking 
 our tea. In like manner, it seems, you have reserved for my 
 
 return ail the most interesting accounts about F . Pray 
 
 do not neglect to familiarize yourself gradually with the fact 
 that, in the month of June, Napoleon was really quite safe in 
 St. Helena, and modify your rules of interpretation accord- 
 ingly. It would really be unworthy of your endeavours after 
 truth, were you to insist upon not believing this. 
 
 Good-bye, dear heart, probably for the last time until we 
 
LETTER TO JACOBI. 279 
 
 meet. I have been once magnetized by Ringseis, and would 
 have been glad to have repeated the experiment, but time 
 would not admit of it. However, in spite of Jacobi's dinners 
 and night travelling, my health is very satisfactory. Greetings 
 to all in the house and out of the house. God grant that we 
 may have a happy meeting. 
 
 As mentioned in the above letter, Schleiermacher 
 had, during his interviews with Friedrich Heinrich 
 Jacobi, reserved to himself the privilege of writing to 
 the latter, to endeavour further to elucidate the dif- 
 ferences existing between them. This agreement seems 
 to have given rise to the subjoined letter, a copy of 
 which was found among Schleiermacher's correspond- 
 ence, but without date. A short correspondence be- 
 tween Reinhold and Jacobi, to which Sclileiermacher 
 refers, is also given. 
 
 [ccccx.] lieinhold to Jacobi. 
 
 What a poor and miserable condition of things is not 
 the present, even at the liest, when men endowed with the 
 purest love of truth and the greatest acumen, in spite of long 
 years of inquiry, can attain to no result, concerning the ques- 
 tions most important to man, which really and truly satisfies 
 them, or which, even supposing that it suffices to quiet their 
 own doubts for a time, they are able to communicate to other 
 equally upright investigators, so as to carry conviction to the 
 minds of the latter also. 
 
 [ccccxr.] Jacobi to lieinhold. 
 
 In your complaints, dear old friend, about the insuffi- 
 ciency of our philosophizing, I can, alas, join with all my 
 heart; and yet I know no better remedy than to continue to 
 
280 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 philosophize or — to become Roman Catholic. There is no 
 third alternative, as also there is no third alternative between 
 Christianity and heathendom, that is, between the deification 
 of nature and Socratic-Platonic anthropomorphism. Most 
 willingly would I exchange my feeble, philosophical Chris- 
 tianity for positive, historical Christianity, and I cannot under- 
 stand why, in spite of this wish, I have never been able to 
 adopt the latter. You see, dear Reinhold, that I am ever the 
 same. A thorough heathen as to the understanding, but in 
 point of feeling entirely a Christian, I float between two 
 waves, which, as far as I am concerned, will not commingle 
 their waters, so that I might be upborne by both; on the 
 contrary, when the one upheaves me, the other draws me 
 down. 
 
 [ccccxii.] Schleiermacher to Jacobi. 
 
 You refer me to your letter to Reinhold, and in this 
 I find the same complaint that runs through all your 
 writings, put forward in a couple of very simple formulas, 
 which I am glad to lay hold of, in order to be able through 
 their aid to place before you, for the present in an equally 
 simple form, the difference that exists between us. You say 
 you are a heathen in point of understanding, a Christian 
 in point of feeling. To this my logic gives the following 
 answer : — Heathen and Christian are, as such, opposed to 
 each other within the same sphere, that of religion : have 
 reason and feeling such equal claims within this sphere, 
 as to allow of their dividing into these two contradictory 
 forms? Religiosity belongs to feeling; that, which to distin- 
 guish it herefrom, we denominate religion, but which is in 
 reality always more or less dogmatics, is only the interpre- 
 tation of the feeling resulting from the reflective powers of 
 the intellect. If your feeling be Christian, can your under- 
 standing put a heathen interpretation on it ? This I cannot 
 allow. 
 
 My proposition, on the contrary, stands thus : in point of 
 understanding I am a philosopher; for to be such is to exer- 
 
lettp:ii to jacobi. 281 
 
 eise the original and independent activity of the understand- 
 ing, and in point of feeling I am religious and a Christian, 
 and have entirely renounced all heathenism, or rather I have 
 never possessed any. You, however, as we all know, are 
 also a philosopher, as regards your understanding, and firmly 
 determined, in opposition to all those who think it necessary 
 to become Roman Catholic, to continue to philosophize. So 
 far we are entirely agreed ; for I will not, either, in all eter- 
 nity allow myself to be deprived of the right to philosophize. 
 When, therefore, you say that you are at the same time a 
 heathen, in as far as your understanding is concerned, this 
 can only mean, that your philosophizing understanding can- 
 not adopt, along with its philosophy, that which your Christian 
 feeling gives it to construe. But, surely, supposing you had 
 a heathenish religious feeling, your understanding would not 
 either be able to adopt what this feeling would give it to 
 interpret, and you only call this negation heathenish, because 
 it is founded in the fact, that your understanding refuses to 
 overstep the bounds of nature ; but as I will by no means 
 allow myself to be entangled in a contradiction, I have placed 
 myself on the footing to demand of others that they shall 
 prove to me where is the ultimate limit of nature. When, 
 therefore, my Christian feeling is conscious of a divine spirit 
 indwelling in me, which is distinct from my reason, I will 
 never give up seeking for this spirit in the deepest depths 
 of the soul's nature ; and when my Christian feeling becomes 
 conscious of a Son of God, who differs from us in another 
 way than merely being better than the best of us, I will 
 never cease to search for the genesis of this Son of God in 
 the deepest depths of nature, and to say to myself, that I 
 shall most likely learn to understand the second Adam just 
 as soon as the first Adam, or Adams, whose coming into exist- 
 ence I must also admit without being able to understand. 
 
 This is my mode of establishing an equilibrium between, 
 the two waves ; it is in reality, likewise, an alternation of the 
 rising of the one and the sinking of the other. But, dear 
 friend, why should we not be content with this ? Oscillation 
 
282 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 is, after all, the universal form of all finite existence, and 
 there exists in me at the same time an immediate conscious- 
 ness that the undulation is, in fact, caused by the two foci of 
 my own ellipse, and that through it I enjoy the fulness of 
 earthly life. My philosophy and my dogmatics are thus 
 firmly determined not to contradict each other, but for this 
 very reason, neither pretends to be complete ; and as long as 
 I have been able to think they have always been more or less 
 attuning themselves to each other and drawing nearer to each 
 other. 
 
 After what I have said, I think it will hardly be necessary 
 for me to lay before you my confession in regard to the 
 present return to the letter of Christianity. One age bears 
 the penalty of the misdeeds of another, but seldom knows 
 how to redeem itself, except by the perpetration of a new 
 misdemeanour. By the utter subversion of the letter of the 
 Scriptures all historical continuity was dissolved, and it is as 
 great madness to destroy such continuity in religious matters 
 as in political matters. That had, therefore, to be re-esta- 
 blished ; but, as Tieck has admirably expressed it, in attempt- 
 ing to screw the thing back we shall only be destroying the 
 historical continuity in the opposite direction. 
 
 The Bible is the original interpretation of the Christian 
 feeling, and for this very reason so firmly established that 
 we ought not to attempt more than further to understand and 
 develop it. This right of development, however, I, as a 
 Protestant theologian, will allow no one to defraud me of; 
 but at the same time I am of opinion that doctrinal language, 
 such as it has been formed since the time of Augustine, is so 
 deep and full of meaning, that, if handled with good sense, it 
 will be quite adequate to bring about such approximation 
 between philosophy and dogmatics as is possible. But I will 
 say no more of this, but, in reference to the difference in 
 our philosophy, address myself to your second proposition : 
 " There is no third alternative between deification of nature 
 and anthropomorphism ;" for I have been told that you were 
 of opinion that I could not think very highly of you, because 
 
LETTER TO JACOBE 283 
 
 the foundation of your philosophy was the idea of a personal 
 God, which I denied. This fundamental principle you have 
 expressed in your letter to Reinhold in the proposition I have 
 quoted. At least so it seems to me. Because you can see 
 no third alternative, and because you will not deify nature, 
 you deify human consciousness. But, dear friend, in my 
 eyes the one is as much a deification as the other, and this 
 view, that both are deifications, is in my opinion the third 
 alternative. We can in no way escape from the antithesis 
 between the real and the ideal, or however you may choose 
 to designate it. 
 
 Are you better able to conceive of God as a person than 
 as natura naturalis ? If you form to yourself a living con- 
 ception of a person, must not this person of necessity 1»' 
 finite ? Can an infinite reason and an infinite will really be 
 anything more than empty words, when reason and will, by 
 differing from each other, also necessarily limit each other ? 
 And if you attempt to annul the distinction between reason 
 and will, is not the conception of personality destroyed by 
 the very attempt ? 
 
 On the other side I see the same. Anthropomorphism, or 
 let me rather say ideomorphism, is, hoAvever, unavoidable in 
 regard to w the interpretation of the religious feeling : whether 
 hylomorphism is not equally indispensable in regard to 
 natural science, I cannot undertake to determine, because I 
 am not sufficiently acquainted with the subject. But I moke 
 use of the first with full right within the domain of religion 
 because of the view that I take, while within the domain of 
 philosophy I maintain that one expression is as good and as 
 imperfect as another, that we cannot form any real conception 
 of the highest Being ; but that philosophy properly consists in 
 the perception that this inexpressible reality of the highest 
 Being underlies all our thinking and all our feeling; and 
 the development of this knowledge is, according to my con- 
 viction, what Plato understood by dialectics. But further 
 I hau this, I believe, we cannot get. This is my view; allow 
 me to entertain the hope that you will favour me with yours. 
 
284 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 One word more in reference to your simile of the two 
 waves, the waters of which Avill not unite in you. In me 
 they also refuse to unite; but while you desire this union, 
 and miss it painfully, I submit cheerfully to the separation. 
 Understanding and feeling in me also remain distinct, but 
 they touch each other and form a galvanic pile. To me it 
 seems that the innermost life of the spirit consists in the 
 galvanic action thus produced in the feeling of the under- 
 standing and the understanding of the feeling, during which, 
 however, the two poles always remain deflected from each 
 other. 
 
 ScJileiermacher to Henrietta Herz. 
 
 [ccccxm.] Berlin, 2Srd April, 1819. 
 Being doubtful as to whether this letter will find you 
 still at Rome,* dear friend, I send it to our friend Kühs, who 
 will take care to forward it to you Here every- 
 thing is wonderfully quiet, with the exception of the dead 
 Kotzebue, whose ghost is playing the very devil with us, - ]" so 
 that when any two men fall out, you may be sure he is behind 
 it all. This makes many people very uneasy, lest the university 
 should be dissolved ; but I remain tranquil, because I know 
 that difficult matters are not so easily carried through. . . . 
 I am celebrating to-day my silver-wedding with the Church, 
 and have invited my theological friends on the occasion. 
 I have much reason to thank God for his merciful guidance 
 during these twenty-five years of my office, and I would fain 
 live through a part of the next quarter of a century also ; see 
 the end of it I shall not; but in the meanwhile others will 
 
 have come forward to take my place God bless 
 
 you, dear friend ! How I wish you were back again among 
 us. Hearty greetings to all friends. 
 
 * Henrietta Herz was then travelling in Italy, with the family of 
 Wilhelm von Humboldt. 
 
 f Probably an allusion to De Wette's case, who was dismissed from 
 his chair at the university, because of his having written a letter of 
 condolence to the family of Sand, Kotzebue's murderer. — Traxs. 
 
BIRTH OF A SON. 285 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [ccccxiv.] Berlin, 14th Februar)/, 1820. 
 
 Dearest Lotte, it seems an age since I communicated 
 with you, but therefore I will also now give you most joyous 
 tidings! The day before yesterday my wife was happily 
 delivered of a boy ! * 
 
 This time I had not felt so strong a wish that it might be a 
 boy, as on former occasions. I was too much penetrated by 
 the feeling that we do not know what we wish for, more 
 especially in the present times. But among the children 
 there was such a constant talk about the little brother that 
 was expected, that I felt quite anxious as to how we should 
 reconcile them to the fact, should the child be a girl. But 
 when it proved to be a boy, you may conceive with what joy 
 and thankfulness I received him, and that my first prayer to 
 God was, to be inspired with wisdom and power from above 
 to educate the child to His glory. Join with me in this 
 prayer, I beg you, all you dear ones ! 
 
 Schleiermacher to his Step- Son. 
 [ccccxv.] 1821. 
 
 My hearty greetings also, I send you, my dear son, 
 hoping that after this pleasant excursion you will set to work 
 again with renewed zeal and earnestness, and begin your new 
 cursus with the earnest endeavour to avoid in future such 
 blame as is this time contained in the report of your ex- 
 aminers. However, this is the least that you have to do; 
 you have now attained the age when you must no longer 
 be content to do what you have been given to do, well and 
 ably, but when your own zeal must carry you further than 
 the tasks imposed in school. We will rejoice to find you 
 renouncing all trifling, striving steadfastly forward, and exer- 
 cising a beneficent influence on your sisters by your example 
 and by your love. May God assist you herein, dear son. 
 Think often of us. 
 
 * His only son, Nathanael, whom he lost again at the age of nine 
 veurs. 
 
286 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHEE. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [ccccxvi.] Berlin, 9th April, 1824. 
 
 Dear Lotte, so badly stand matters with me, that 
 Ernst arrives, and brings me a letter from you, and not until 
 now, when he is again leaving us, have I been able to pen you 
 a few lines in return. Thus life passes on while man is doing 
 what he is bound to do, and little time is left for doing what 
 he wishes to do. Could I but feel easy as to my doing all 
 that I am bound to do ! 
 
 Your son, dear sister, will tell you how our life passes. We 
 have had a sad time of sickness among the children latterly. 
 . . . . About myself there is a great deal to be said that 
 Ernst cannot tell you, and which, in fact, I cannot myself tell 
 you. My outward position is very precarious, perhaps more 
 so than ever. The suspicions of demagogical tendencies in 
 regard to me have, I trust, been allayed; but the ecclesiastical 
 questions must soon be brought to a head, and should the 
 result be violent measures, I must infallibly be one of the 
 /first Kictims. I cannot say that I am alarmed, or that in 
 itself the thought of this troubles me; for in regard to these 
 matters I know that I have done nothing but what I was 
 bound to do, and I almost think I may say, also, that I have 
 done all that I ought to do. But when such decisions are 
 impending, one cannot help feeling very keenly, what under 
 ordinary circumstances is less remarked, viz. : that in regard 
 to our offices and their functions, we are dreadfully exposed 
 to personal arbitrariness, and to feel this is very disagreeable. 
 But this also must be borne, and all things will come to pass 
 as God wills it 
 
 In the summer of 1824 the health of several of the 
 children rendered sea-bathing desirable. In consequence 
 the mother went with all the children (with the excep- 
 
AN IDYL. 287 
 
 tion of the eldest son, who was attending the gym* 
 nasium) and their governess to the island of Rügen, 
 where she selected the remote and most romantically 
 situated fishing hamlet of Sassnitz, in the district of 
 Stubnitz, for their place of residence — an undertaking 
 fraught with no little difficulty, as no preparations 
 for the reception of strangers existed there, and two 
 cottages had to he given up by their rural inhabitants 
 before the fmests could find room. Nevertheless, his 
 " wife's idvl," as Schleiermacher called it, was car- 
 ried through cheerfully, and it seems that this first 
 visit of strangers to Sassnitz led to others, in conse- 
 quence of which the little village has now almost risen 
 to the importance of a regular bathing place. 
 
 Schleiermacher joined his family towards the close of 
 their visit to Rügen, and spent a few days with them at 
 Sassnitz. During the interval the following letters were 
 interchanged between husband and wife. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Ms Wife. 
 
 [ccccxvn.] Berlin, July 16th, 1824. 
 
 My dear heart, I shall say nothing about how my 
 thoughts have accompanied you and the dear little tribe, 
 
 and how they still accompany you I fancied that 
 
 when you were gone I should feel as in my former days of 
 bachelorhood. But that was very foolish ; for I know and 
 feel it every moment, that you and all of them belong to me, 
 and even my outward life becomes quite different through this 
 consciousness. God be with you, and let you enjoy much that 
 is good and beautiful. Give my best love to all the dear 
 Gotemitz people, and more especially to our sister Lotte. I 
 hope I shall soon receive accounts from you. Greet and kiss 
 all my little folks. On Sunday it will be the anniversary of 
 
288 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACIIER. 
 
 the day at the Brunnenau. Will you remember it, I wonder? 
 No, I think not ; dates are not your strong point. 
 
 [ccccxvin.] Tuesday evening. 
 
 . This forenoon we buried the old B . 
 
 Nicolovius was present, and shed a few tears when I pro- 
 nounced the prayer at the grave, because it reminded him of 
 his wife. He begins again to see everything in black, and is 
 very anxious as to what evil may be brewing at Johannis- 
 berg, where, as I suppose you have heard, all kinds of minis- 
 ters have been in conference with -Metternich. Indeed, it 
 appears that he even fears that I may be persecuted from that 
 
 quarter While taking my solitary tea, I have been 
 
 working a little, and also giving audience to various thoughts. 
 They ended with the wish, that becomes ever more earnest, 
 that I may be allowed to devote a greater part of the latter end 
 of my life to you all, and to working for posterity, than I have 
 been able to do hitherto. This wish has taken very strong 
 hold of me just now, but for the present I will conclude with 
 one that lies nearer still, viz., that I may soon learn where you 
 are, in order that I may be able to form a more vivid picture 
 of your condition. This evening, I think I may with pretty 
 much certainty send my " good night " to Gbtemitz 
 
 [ccccxix.] Wednesday evening. 
 
 To-day I have dined quite alone with Lotte. In the 
 afternoon came your note announcing your safe passage across 
 the water. Thank God for this ; but now that you have 
 arrived at the port of your destination, I begin to see more 
 clearly how long our separation is likely to last. 
 
 This evening, immediately after tea, Bettina came to take 
 leave. She was exceedingly civil, and said many clever 
 things Old Ilennefuss* has seen you at an inn 
 
 * A remarkable old man, whose child-like piety and deep wisdom 
 will ever be remembered by all who knew him. lie believed himself 
 to be in daily personal communion with various good persons who 
 had departed this life, and even with the Saviour himself, and had 
 
AN IDYL. 289 
 
 with all the children. I suppose it was when you sought 
 refuse from the storm 
 
 [ccccxx.] Monday, 2Gth July. 
 
 . . . . M 's letter, about which I could not 
 
 write more fully the other day, has, in fact, made me quite 
 melancholy. I do not see how you will be able to exist where 
 you are with any degree of comfort. Supposing even that the 
 discomfort of the clay floor can be mitigated by the aid of 
 planks and bedsteads, how will you all be able to manage 
 in the daytime in the miller's one little room ? And how 
 is any reading or writing to go on there ? I am very much 
 afraid that when you are not in the woods, or on the sea- 
 shore, you will be wretchedly situated, and I am longing 
 intensely for your first letter from Sassnitz. A little taste of 
 camp-life I had no objection to your having, and I even 
 rejoiced at the thought that many little anxieties would be 
 overcome in that way, and that you would learn to see that 
 less warm covering and greater freedom in running about in 
 the open air was quite compatible with safety in regard to 
 health; but these privations seem to me too great. However, 
 I trust entirely to you, and feel sure that you will do all for 
 
 the best Here, everything is as usual. I have 
 
 not yet seen Lotte to-day, and do not know whether she is to 
 dine with me tete-a-tete. After dinner, I am to attend an 
 academical conference, and after that, I think I shall go to see 
 
 the French Hercules, of whom S spoke so very highly 
 
 last Friday when I went from the Spanish Society to the 
 Spanish equestrians. I still feel the necessity of some diver- 
 sion during the tea-time. To sit upon the sofa and swallow 
 down two or three cups of tea, and then go back to the 
 -wiiting-desk, makes me too melancholy. 
 
 Yesterday I witnessed a very touching scene. I arrived 
 rather early at the Werder Church, where I was to preach for 
 
 besides other visions. He was a mechanician by trade, and an indus- 
 trious workman, and in no way connected with magnetism. He and 
 Schleiermacher were much attached to each other. 
 
 VOL. II. U 
 
290 LIFE Or SCHLEIERMACHEB. 
 
 Küster, and thus heard the end of Palmier's French sermon, 
 and afterwards saw him and the other pastors of the church 
 and the elders fall upon each other's neck in the sacristy, and 
 weep bitter tears. They were taking leave of the church, where 
 they might have remained in peace and quiet for another 
 century, had it not come within range of the destructive 
 building mania, and an edifice that is far too small has been 
 assigned to them in exchange. This arbitrary mode of pro- 
 ceeding — this absence of all consideration for the feelings of 
 others, is very revolting; and I was obliged to exert myself 
 very much to prevent the impression that this scene had 
 made upon me from disturbing me in the delivery of my 
 
 sermon 
 
 God be with you, dear heart, and with all our loved ones, 
 and do write the oftener, the more uncertain the delivery of 
 the letters is, that is to say, as often as the circumstances amid 
 which you live will allow; and keep in your heart your old 
 faithful husband. 
 
 The Wife to the Hutband. 
 
 [ccccxxi.] Sassnitz, 29th July. 
 
 My dear, dear husband, yesterday was a day of jem- 
 and jubilation to me, for it brought me your letter. Thank 
 God ! that it contains nothing seriously distressing, though a 
 melancholy tone runs through part of it. The more important 
 events, the results of which may be so serious, are in the 
 hands of God, and I will not allow my thoughts to dwell on 
 
 them, and will foster no anxiety in regard to them 
 
 My dear heart, I knew beforehand that it would be a severe 
 trial to us both to be so long separated ! . . . . We 
 arrived here on Frida)' last in pretty good time and in pretty 
 good weather. Bedsteads and bedding I brought with me 
 from Götemitz ; so that by writing more explicitly, I might 
 have saved you the anxiety you suffered under on that 
 account. But the confusion was great until the bedsteads 
 were put up, and everything brought in order. The miller's 
 room is smaller than I expected, but the people are very kind 
 
AX IDYL. 291 
 
 and "willing to serve. The house in which we are to sleep 
 has indeed been whitewashed, but, nevertheless, the inhabi- 
 tants had left enough of their own atmosphere behind them 
 to make it very disagreeable for us the first nights and 
 mornings, until habit, which reconciles us to everything, had 
 come to our assistance; and now that we have had the clay 
 floors covered with clean straw, over which we have spread 
 linen sheets, we are tolerably comfortable. I console myself 
 with the reflection that the air in the sleeping-house is more 
 disagreeable than unwholesome ; and the whole day long we 
 are in the delicious, invigorating, open air. The situation 
 of the village is very favourable. Against the west winds, 
 that prevail during this season, it is quite sheltered by the 
 forest-clad hills; and we take the most delightful walks, in 
 spite of the cold, windy weather. The first evening, as you 
 may have perceived by my last letter, was a very trying one 
 to me. I felt so very desolate; anxiety about the children 
 Aveighed heavily upon me, and I spent the greater part of the 
 night in prayer to God to keep his hand over us, and to lead 
 everything to a happy issue. . . . Provisions have as yet never 
 failed us ; on the contrary, we have had good and wholesome 
 food every day, though of course, no variety, and everything 
 
 is very plain; but this is so much the better 
 
 We have been taking a very nice walk, and been sitting in 
 the wood, where I read aloud a letter which you wrote to me 
 to Silesia, when I was in like manner separated from you and 
 alone with the children during the war. I look forward with 
 great pleasure to reading the subsequent letters also. I have 
 brought the whole packet with me. What love and tender- 
 ness breathes from that letter ! It has given me new spirit. 
 Thank God that you need have no such anxiety about us 
 at present, and that we can now calculate exactly when we 
 are to meet again. I hope to God that I shall be able to 
 bring back all the children in good health. The little ones 
 are full of life and joy. Farewell for to-day, they are just 
 bringing in our supper, which consists of sour milk, and 
 potatoes with their coats on. 
 
 u 2 
 
292 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 Schleiermacher to his Wife. 
 
 [ccccxxii.] Saturday, dlst July. 
 
 My Saturday evening with the students 
 has again been somewhat spoilt. The weather was so fine 
 that I gave orders that tea should be brought to us in the 
 garden ; but instead of coming at eight it did not come until 
 nine, and to make matters worse, they had not put anything 
 round the flame of the lamp, so that it went out every minute ; 
 and at last, after many vain endeavours, we were obliged to 
 adjourn to the house in order to obtain boiling water. One 
 of the globes of the garden chandelier was also destroyed on 
 the occasion. That I must light the candles myself every 
 evening, has become quite a matter of course, and so likewise 
 that I must rest content with lukewarm water, because I get 
 tired of repeating that they must let me have fresh cool water. 
 But do not take these matters seriously, dear heart, but laugh 
 at them ; for they do not in the least affect me, and even such 
 things as vex me when you are present, I bear with the great- 
 est equanimity now that I am alone. The fact is, it seems 
 to me that as you are not here, it is no matter how wrong 
 things go ; but when you are here everything must be excel- 
 lent and perfect. 
 
 I have a burdensome duty to perform to-day, that is, to be 
 present at the election of a rector, where I shall probably see 
 H. Krause, whom I have hitherto so studiously avoided. How- 
 ever, when you find that no one will imitate your mode of 
 proceeding in such matters, you are at last obliged to give up. 
 I did not know how to excuse myself Avithout either telling a 
 falsehood or saying something very bitter, and while I hesi- 
 tated I lost the opportune moment. 
 
 The Wife to the Husband. 
 
 [ccccxxm.] Sassnitz, Wednesday, 4th August. 
 . . . . Since I wrote last, we have been very dis- 
 ipated. Mrs. W , H and some of his daughters 
 
 si 
 
AN IDYL. 293 
 
 oame to see us one beautiful afternoon ; they -were very 
 friendly, and we endeavoured to do the honours as well as 
 possible. With them came Carl Käthen on horseback, and the 
 appearance of this youth, who is equally beloved by old and 
 young, called forth shouts of joy. He had promised to pay us 
 a visit, and the children almost tore him to pieces with their 
 demonstrations of delight. A bed was made lor him in the room 
 at the mill. On the Saturday he persuaded us to undertake 
 an excursion to Stubbenkammer. The weather was most lovely 
 when we started, and we were all in high glee. On the heights 
 we met a good many people, but we did not allow ourselves 
 to be disturbed, but sat down under the green trees and eat 
 potatoes and chocolate, which I had brought with me, without 
 heeding the world around us; but a storm with heavy showers, 
 soon poured its attentions upon us. We were obliged to leave 
 our verdant bower ; the sickly ones sought shelter in a house, 
 the stronger ones remained before the door ; and there we re- 
 mained chained to one spot from two o'clock until six, while tin- 
 rain poured down incessantly. At this hour it began to clear, 
 and we set ourselves in movement, homewards. But, alas, 
 the sunshine was but short ! In a little while it began again 
 to pour so heavily that our cloaks were not proof against it. 
 Fearing that we might catch cold, I ordered the coachman to 
 go round by Sagard, whereby also we avoided the bad road 
 through the forest, which was quite dangerous after the rain. 
 "When it stopped raining we enjoyed a wonderfully beautiful 
 spectacle ; the sun shone forth just before it set, and shed 
 through the surrounding mist, light and hues such as I have 
 never seen before. My heart was very heavy on account of 
 Gertrude, not knowing how she would bear it ; and the next 
 day we were all indeed somewhat upset, physically, and 
 Gertrude was paler than usual. Ah, my dear old man, you 
 may conceive that such moments are more trying to me here, 
 than when living in the midst of our daily comforts, in the 
 neighbourhood of the doctor and with all necessary means 
 within reach. However, God holds his hand wonderfully 
 over us, and the second day already we were all right again, 
 
294 LIFE OP SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 and Gertrude the same as before. This morning early we 
 had the joy of receiving your letter, and at the same time a 
 message from Lotte Käthen, to say that she and her daughters 
 and Wilhelm were in Bobbin, and intended to come hither in 
 the afternoon. You may imagine the delight this caused. 
 They were here from three o'clock until seven. We took 
 coffee in " Schleiershall," and then went to inspect our 
 bathing-place, which was pronounced lovely by everybody, 
 and afterwards we took a sail for about half an hour, which 
 proved very interesting, as the wind suddenly shifted to the 
 east, and caused the waves to rise very high, and our boat was 
 thus kept constantly in a kind of dancing movement. To- 
 morrow we are invited to take coffee at Stubbenkammer with 
 
 Aunt B , whom I have not yet seen. You see, that 
 
 without our doing anything towards it ourselves, we cannot 
 quite avoid dissipation even here. As for lessons, they are not 
 to be thought of; even the days that we remain quietly at home, 
 very little work of any kind is done, and neither time nor the 
 locality will admit of it. I rise at seven and waken up the 
 rest. The children are always very tired, and it is no easy 
 matter to get them out of bed. After breakfast we read a 
 chapter in the Bible and some hymns of Albertini's ; and then 
 remain quietly together until ten o'clock, occupied with our 
 needles. Often, however, various household matters also have 
 to be attended to during this time. At ten I go down to the 
 bathing-place and perform the part of bath-woman, helping 
 one after the other to get into the water and out again. When 
 all have had their dip, I send them forth to run about and get 
 warm, keep Lina Käthen alone with me, take a good rest, and 
 then myself descend into the azure waves, which, I can assure 
 you, is much finer in idea than in reality. By this time the 
 dinner-hour has arrived. After dinner Ave take a short rest, 
 then drink coffee, then work a little, while one of the party 
 reads aloud, and then walk until sunset, take our supper, and 
 put the little ones to bed. It is then about nine o'clock; but 
 we grown-up people remain up until ten, and then either in 
 total darkness or in beautiful moonshine we leave the mill and 
 
AN IDYL. 29.5 
 
 wander a pretty good bit of way along the footpath, through 
 i he village to our "Ruhheim" (home of rest). This evening 
 
 I have sent M to bed before me ; and that she may not 
 
 be too miserable when she is disturbed, I must now leave off 
 and wish you good night, my own dear husband, you, my 
 best and most faithful friend, you, greatest of God's blessings 
 bestowed upon me. 
 
 [ccccxxiv.] Thursday Forenoon. 
 
 Our delightful plan has, alas! come to nothing. The 
 east wind, which blew pretty high yesterday, rose in the night 
 to a perfect hurricane, accompanied by floods of rain. It was 
 
 a fearful night. "We were all awake, and M struck a 
 
 light. Our sleeping-house is quite close to the sea-shore, 
 whereas the mill-house is the last house at the other end of 
 the village, and contiguous to the forest. When in bed we 
 hear the sea roaring. However, in spite of the weather, we 
 
 are all in good spirits; and M has even to-day, for the 
 
 first time, given a French lesson. Nathanael is particularly 
 well off here. When we are not out walking, on which 
 occasions he is always of the party, I never see him except 
 from afar, for the miller, a gentle, friendly man, has taken 
 such a fancy to the child, that he has him always at his side. 
 The door of the room we inhabit opens into the spacious 
 mill, and there he sits the whole day long gazing at the great 
 water wheel ; or he follows the miller about in his various 
 avocations, fancying that he is of great assistance to him. 
 He is more especially happy when he is in the workshop, in 
 one corner of the mill, where the miller planes and chisels, 
 and where the child works away most zealously with a little 
 tool that has been given to him, at a big rake which is 
 being got ready for the harvest. As the miller is a quiet and 
 sensible man, and Nathanael is so obedient that I feel sure he 
 will never go near any place he is forbidden to go to, I am 
 quite easy about him, and think that the boy cannot be in 
 better company, or be better amused. lie seems never to 
 feel tired for one moment. Hildis also is on very friendly 
 
296 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 terms with the people of the mill (the family consists of a 
 good old dame of seventy, her man, who seems, however, 
 to be in reality master, and a maid-servant), and likes to be 
 
 with Hanne in the kitchen I rejoice that I may 
 
 now say with truth, that it would not be in the least difficult 
 for me, nor cause me one moment's unhappiness, were I to be 
 obliged to live with you and the children in a little hovel. 
 I am longing very much for your next letter, 
 and now conclude this with a hearty wish that I could breathe 
 all the love of my soul into this letter for you, my dear, dear 
 father. Ever your own Henriette. 
 
 Scldeiermaclier to his Wife. 
 
 [ccccxxv.] Sunday, 8th August. 
 
 I have just returned home from the early morning 
 service. What life there used to be in my room at this 
 hour! You, with all the little ones, and sometimes another 
 dear face or two. Now all is silent round me ; and when 
 I send my thoughts over to you I do not know whether 
 to seek you on the way to church, or whether you may 
 again be obliged to rest contented Avith reading a sermon. 
 If the weather be not better with you than it is here, you 
 will not have much Sunday enjoyment. When you were at 
 Stubbenkammer, dear Jette, did you think of old times? Of 
 our first meeting, twenty years ago ? And of how, in the 
 midst of the wholesome suffering I was undergoing, I was 
 seized by a strange presentiment in Rügen ? How the love 
 of your whole circle embraced me; how your bridal happi- 
 ness cheered my heart, and how I was drawn towards you by 
 paternal affection ? And how, during my second stay in 
 the island, love unconsciously took another character in my 
 heart? Then also we spent a delightful day at Stubben- 
 kammer. The bench near the Brunnenau, where you gave 
 me your "Yes," is, I suppose, no longer there; and, perhaps, 
 the bathing houses are also gone. I still remember that I 
 emerged from my bathing-room a little later than you came 
 
AN IDYL. 297 
 
 out of yours, and that I found you engaged in fastening up 
 your hair, which then fell around your neck in richer tresses 
 than now. Afterwards, we took a walk together through 
 the meadow, and my feelings would no longer be restrained, 
 but spoke out when we had seated ourselves upon the 
 bench 
 
 Schleie rmacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [ccccxxvi.] Berlin, dth August, 1824. 
 
 I have long been wishing, dear sister, to write to you 
 from my solitude, to thank you and your dear Käthen for all 
 the sisterly and brotherly love you have evinced towards my 
 dear ones, and to show you that I am ever in spirit with you 
 and with them. And now, you have anticipated me, and 
 surprised me with your most valued enclosure. What can 
 be more delightful to a clergyman than to find that his prose 
 has called forth poetry in a soul harmoniously attuned to his! 
 How I have rejoiced in your calm and pious inward life 
 while reading your effusions ! Your image presented itself 
 bright and pure before my mind's eye, and the old times, 
 when we first learned to know each other, returned, as it 
 were, once more. I think we are both just the same as we 
 were then. You have, as little as I, lost taste and interest 
 for anything that we valued then ; but the relation to the only 
 One, who is the centre of all, has, I believe, become more 
 prominent in both of us. This, I dare say, you have seen in 
 the third collection of my sermons, which I was not aware 
 that you did not possess. I do not know how I have happened 
 to neglect sending them to you. I hope that the same is not 
 the case with the fourth collection. In fact, I am still opposed 
 to the publication of the sermons in a printed form, because 
 all sermons, and mine more especially, are only intended to 
 be heard. But when I see them bring forth such fruits as 
 your lyrics, then I feel that I should like to have all those 
 printed, in delivering which I have felt myself most excited. 
 
298 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 The Mother to the eldest Son (who was studying in 
 
 Göttingen). 
 
 [ccccxxvii.] Berlin, 23rd May, 182G. 
 
 My darling Ehrenfried, do you often think of me ? 
 Do you sometimes long for your mother — do you hear in 
 spirit the words of love, which my heart is ever addressing to 
 you ? . . . . Now, let me tell you what we have been doing. 
 As on the Saturday before Easter father confirmed fifty 
 children, and was greatly moved, as you know he always is on 
 these occasions — and there were a great many communicants 
 on Easter Monday as well as Sunday — he was so much 
 exhausted, that he stood greatly in need of a little strengthen- 
 ing excursion. On the Monday afternoon, therefore, he and 
 Forstner* walked out to Werneuchen, where they remained 
 the night over, and thence proceeded the next morning to 
 Freienwalde. All the rest of us took our seats in the carriage 
 on the Tuesday morning, and drove direct to Freienwalde, 
 where we arrived almost as soon as the pedestrians. The 
 children were delighted, notwithstanding the weather was 
 
 wretchedly cold Your dear father, too, was 
 
 very cheerful, though for several hours he walked about bent 
 double by the cramp in his stomach. On the Wednesday, we 
 drove to Neustadt, and inspected the manufactories and the 
 smelting works in the neighbourhood, and again the weather 
 was stormy and inclement. In the great brass works, near 
 Neustadt, a student, by name N — ■ — , recognised Schleier- 
 macher, immediately came up to us, and caused the inspector 
 himself, in whose house he was tutor, to conduct us round 
 the works ; and when we had seen everything, we were, in 
 spite of all that we could say, obliged to go in to take 
 coffee with the inspector's wife, with whom we found a pretty 
 
 girl, the betrothed of Mr. N . The kind people, were 
 
 delighted to have met so unexpectedly with such " interest- 
 ing" guests, and we derived great benefit from this little 
 
 * Alexander von Forstner, married to a daughter of Charlotte von 
 Käthen. 
 
PARENTAL ADVICE. 299 
 
 adventure ; for we were very hungry, and quite tired out 
 by the wind. On the Thursday, we returned to Berlin. On 
 the road back we spoke of the letter from you, which Ave 
 felt sure would be awaiting us that day, as it was the anni- 
 versary of our marriage ; and my joy was great when I found 
 that I was not mistaken 
 
 And now I will tell you a secret. Only think, that we 
 shall probably adopt another little child, which will, most 
 likely, be entirely like our own. Nanni's sister, in Gallicia, 
 has lost her husband, and is left with four little children, the 
 youngest of whom is not a year old. On the last anniversary 
 of our wedding-day, we determined to adopt one of these, if 
 the mother will consent to part with it, which I have no doubt 
 she will. 
 
 I had long had a presentiment that something of the kind 
 would happen. Last new-year's eve I was seated with 
 Louise* at Mrs. F — ■ — 's side. The latter was unusually 
 kind ; and, turning to me, said : " I see a little 
 child kneeling close to you, who is looking up so touchingly 
 in your face, and asking, — Will you be my mother?" And 
 even before this, she had told me that I would be called upon 
 to be mother to another child to whom I had not myself given 
 birth. It was a very affecting moment when your father and 
 myself first mentioned the subject to each other ; for he had 
 also been thinking of it for several days, though he had not 
 spoken. As yet, we have not received the mother's answer, 
 and therefore the matter is still a secret here 
 
 Schleie rmacher to his Step-Son. 
 [ccccxxvm.] No date. 
 
 My dear Son, W , who has returned, has in- 
 timated to your dear mother that your appearance gave 
 him an unfavourable impression of your health. I entrant 
 you, do not neglect yourself in regard to this point, but 
 
 * Daughter of Mrs. F , who had been adopted into Schleier- 
 
 macher's family from the time she was a little child, and was educated 
 with his own children. 
 
ÖOO LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 remember that the care we used to bestow upon your health 
 must now be bestowed by yourself. Inquire from Goschens 
 who is their family doctor, and consult him. A sensible 
 physician will be sure not to overdose a youth of your age 
 with physic ; but he will, no doubt, give you advice in regard 
 to your diet, and to this pray attend regularly. That you 
 bathe and swim so frequently I am very glad to hear, but I 
 cannot deny that I feel a little alarmed at athletic exercises 
 which seem to exceed the exploits of St. Christopher himself. 
 The more anxious I feel about your health, the more desirous 
 I am that you should seek some beneficent recreation during 
 the impending vacation. I should be best pleased if you 
 coidd find some young man, who is agreeable to you as a 
 companion, and with whom you could undertake a pedestrian 
 tour. This is the most thoroughly enjoyable way of travel- 
 ling, and of becoming acquainted with the beauties of nature, 
 and it is, likewise, the most beneficial to health, if one takes 
 care not to over-fatigue oneself. .... With what you 
 write about your studies I am very well pleased ; only, as 
 regards the special studies for your profession, you have not 
 been sufficiently explicit. It is a very good thing to follow 
 up more thoroughly some point or other suggested by the 
 professorial lectures, and also to acquire such a general know- 
 ledge of the leading scientific works mentioned, as to feel 
 somewhat at home in them. 
 
 The idea of becoming a member of the Borussia or any 
 other association, I have no doubt you will give up, on ma- 
 turer reflection. The ties which one subjects oneself to by 
 joining such an association, become burdensome and impeding, 
 even as regards social intercourse ; and considering your ten- 
 dency to exclusivcness, I cannot otherwise than dissuade you. 
 On the other hand, it gives me much pleasure that your gym- 
 nastic exercises are leading to an extension of } r our circle of 
 acquaintances. 
 
 I presume that your mother and sisters write you all our 
 domestic news and everything that relates to our family circle. 
 Of myself I have nothing to say but what you already know- 
 
PARENTAL ADVICE. 301 
 
 There is no lack of annoyances, nay, even of serious crises in 
 Church affairs and university affairs, and you must always 
 keep in mind the possibility that I may not remain in my 
 present position long enough to see you well started in your 
 career. I am sincerely desirous that it should be so, but cir- 
 cumstances may occur which will render it imperative to set 
 aside all such considerations, and I wish, therefore, that you 
 would reflect as to how you would manage in such a case. 
 Arndt's affair has been laid before the king for decision, but 
 as yet I do not know the result, and this is another reason why 
 I do not exactly wish you to go to Bonn during the ensuing 
 vacation. You might arrive there at a time when your pre- 
 sence would be troublesome, and the serious matters to be 
 settled might exercise a disturbing influence upon you 
 
 The Mother to the eldest Son. 
 
 [ccccxxix.] Berlin, 24th Nov., 182G. 
 
 My dear boy. It seems to me that you have got so 
 much into the habit of complaining of my not writing, that 
 you even do so when there is no reason for it. You must have 
 had several letters from me since my return, and the present 
 has only been a little retarded by father's birthday, for which 
 we were getting ready a piece of work which we had undertaken 
 in common, and for which there were besides a thousand 
 other preparations to be made. It was a most happy day, and 
 nothing was wanting but that my dear son should have been 
 amongst us — a day rich in joy and manifold emotions ; for I 
 think, I may almost say, that never before did such a host of 
 people crowd in to express their affectionate devotion to father. 
 At half past eight o'clock in the morning we sang a choral 
 hymn, and the children crowned him with a wreath of moss 
 and ivy. After that he went to the college and lectured till 
 ten. During his absence a bower of verdure was constructed 
 in the large drawing room, in front of the looking-glass, and 
 in this was placed a table on which was spread a number of 
 pretty presents, interspersed with flowers. Above all, a 
 
302 LIFE OF SCIILEIEHMACHER. 
 
 beautiful carpet, embroidered for him by Emilie Braun- 
 schweig and Anna Kedtel, and which was spread on the floor, 
 
 deserves mention By degrees so many young 
 
 girls, and so many friends and acquaintances assembled, that 
 both rooms were crowded, and up to two o'clock there was a 
 
 constant coming and going At eight o'clock in 
 
 the evening a great surprise was prepared for father. We led 
 him to the window, and here he saw a long pi-ocession of 
 students with torches advancing up the avenue of the garden, 
 accompanied by a band of wind-instruments — it was a beautiful 
 sight ! They placed themselves in a half-circle in front of the 
 window and sang (Luther's hymn), "A strong bulwark is our 
 
 Lord." Then came a deputation consisting of S , O . 
 
 and K . The latter was the spokesman ; but he was so 
 
 moved that he could say but little. S presented to father, 
 
 in the name of all, a large, magnificently bound bible. You 
 may conceive, my son, how affecting this scene was to us all. 
 The three youths remained with us the rest of the evening, and 
 pleased us very much ; and, upon the whole, the company was 
 very merry, without being boisterous. The second supper table 
 was the pleasantest sight in my eyes, for it was almost exclu- 
 sively occupied by a wreath of young maidens. At our table 
 Eeimer presided, with the large crystal punch -bowl before 
 him, filled with cardinal, and performed his task extremely 
 well. Several very nice toasts were proposed ; one by father 
 
 in honour of the students, to which S replied in a very 
 
 good speech. I was seated between Nicolovius and Eichhorn, 
 and was delightfully entertained. Your dear father was very 
 cheerful the whole day. That you were often mentioned and 
 remembered with the tenderest affection, I need hardly tell 
 you. And now if you will take the trouble to note all the 
 little circumstances, you may, with the help of your imagina- 
 tion, form to yourself a correct and animated picture of the 
 events of the day. Many welcome letters were also received, 
 and among the heartiest, one from Bernhard Jacobi and Cor- 
 nelia, who call him lather, and express the sincerest affection 
 for him. To-morrow, Sunday, there will be a second cele- 
 
PARENTAL ADVICE. 303 
 
 bration of father's birthday You see that we are 
 
 living at present in the midst of joy and dissipation, but I hope 
 that a nice long period of quiet will follow. 
 
 Nathanael has begun to learn Latin, and is to have an 
 In "Hi's instruction from a student every day. It is a new 
 epoch in the little fellow's life, and he is greatly excited. 
 Sometimes he wants to get out of bed at six o'clock already, 
 because " he has so much to do." .... 
 
 Farewell, my dearly beloved son, I press you to my heart 
 with joyful hope. May the love of God, and the truth that is 
 alone life-giving, ever take more complete possession of your 
 heart, and expel from it all darkness and all apathy. Write 
 soon to me and very explicitly, for I often long very much for 
 you; and write also quite candidly, for I understand you 
 thoroughly. Father sends his tendercst love. 
 
 Schleiermacher to his Step-Son. 
 
 [ccccxxx.] Berlin, Gth February, 1827. 
 
 My dear son, I have long been wishing to write to 
 you, but what I had to say could not be despatched in a few 
 words, and I could not find time to write explicitly. First of 
 all I wish to tell you once more my opinion of your ever- 
 recurring complaints about yourself, which follow quick upon 
 the most pleasant subjects. You occupy yourself too much 
 with yourself, and dwell too much upon yourself. Man as an 
 individual is much too insignificant an object to satisfy any 
 one, and you remind me in your way of a couple of senti- 
 mental lovers, who begin by wishing to be all in all to each 
 other, but who soon become extremely burdensome to each 
 other in the midst of their very vapid and tiresome life. Your 
 case is indeed in so far different, that whereas they begin with 
 the most exalted opinion of each other, you, on the contrary, 
 are ever trying to acquire such an opinion of yourself. You 
 desire to possess the consciousness of being noble and excel- 
 lent, and because you cannot attain to it, you put yourself to 
 the torture. But who demands this perfection of you ? At 
 your age people are not generally noble and excellent charac- 
 
304 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 ters, but are preparing to become so. But this inward opera- 
 tion, when it does take place, cannot and must not be watched, 
 for watching would only impede it, just as bread never rises 
 if they go on opening the oven door while it is baking, or 
 perhaps even taking it out of the oven to look at it, or cutting 
 off a bit to try. How a man has developed himself can only be 
 ascertained subsequently by his acts; and at present you have 
 no means whatsoever for making any valid experiment in 
 regard to this. But one experiment you may make, and that 
 is, to ascertain whether you are capable of taking such a deep 
 interest in any matter as is the source of all true capacity. 
 It is your wish to work in and for the state, and I have no 
 doubt you desire to accomplish something great; you live in 
 the midst of times when the most important matters of this 
 kind are going on, when new states are being constituted and 
 old ones are falling to pieces, and when old forms are getting 
 into the most striking contradiction with themselves. But I 
 can discover no evidence of your having made it your business 
 to understand the connection between the various events, and 
 to penetrate deeply into their causes. Questions connected 
 with the internal administration of the various states are also 
 at present discussed so publicly, that the neAvspapers are full 
 of them. Were you to take an interest in these, you would 
 soon cease to give so much attention to yourself, and a new 
 life would gradually be unfolded in you. Should you not be 
 able to feel an interest in these matters, then, my dear son, 
 you are certainly not destined to play an important part in 
 either of these directions ; for without a great interest no man 
 can work in a large-minded way, nor can he attain to a high 
 position except by despicable means, and such you will never 
 have recourse to. You will therefore, in that case, remain in 
 the subordinate sphere of the profession you have selected ; 
 but even under these circumstances you will require some 
 other scientific or artistic pursuit, to enable you to pi-actise 
 some independent activity along with the mechanical activity 
 of your position. I can therefore only wish for you that your 
 studies or your life may soon suggest some such pursuit. 
 
PARENTAL ADVICE. 305 
 
 The Mother to the Son. 
 
 [ccccxxxi.] 7th February, 1827. 
 
 I cannot let father write, my own dear son, without 
 
 adding a few lines Your father has undoubtedly 
 
 described your state most correctly ; your complaints are very 
 foolish If you could tell me one day of your- 
 self, as you have told me about L , that he could actually 
 
 become quite enthusiastically interested in a lawsuit, that 
 would be a feast for father's ears. When I recall to mind the 
 tendency which manifested itself in everything you undertook 
 as a boy, while constantly under my eye, this gives me a clue 
 to the reason why you derive so little nourishment for your 
 
 soul from the business of your profession Ah ! 
 
 this precociousness, this early awakening of the idea, is doubt- 
 less very detrimental, when not connected with some decided 
 taste, which from the beginning imparts a soul, as it were, to 
 what is otherwise quite mechanical, and thus prevents any 
 disgust from being felt. I am sure you entirely agree with 
 me on this subject, and I can only wish for you, that God 
 may grant you that true inward power of will, which, when 
 resting upon a higher will, cannot fail to become creative, and 
 which may therefore enable you to correct and to supplement 
 such defects and failings as nature or early education may 
 have left in your character 
 
 In the months of July and August, 1827, Schleier- 
 
 macher's wife took her friend Mrs. F and the 
 
 daughter of the latter to Karlsbad, for the benefit of 
 their health, and was subsequently joined by Schleier- 
 macher, when both proceeded to Biala, in Galicia, to 
 fetch their little adoptive daughter. The following 
 letters date from this period: — 
 
 VOL. II. X 
 
306 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [ccccxxxn.] Berlin, 2Gth July, 1827. 
 
 Our dear Forstner "will no doubt tell you 
 all about me and my little people ; and when you hear from 
 him how constantly I am engaged in conflicts which I cannot 
 avoid without doing violence to my conscience, you will, I 
 am sure, feel sorry that the last part of my life should be 
 spent amid so much turmoil, and that I shoidd be obliged to 
 waste so much time on these matters, which, according to all 
 appearances, might be used to much better purpose. How- 
 ever, I do not repine, but think, on the contrary, that it is all 
 for the best ; and when my book of life is made up, I shall have 
 greater reason for thankfulness than most people. From what 
 I have heard from several quarters, things seem this time to 
 have been very nigh coming to a crisis. As for myself, I 
 rarely know how these matters stand, and generally do not 
 hear the worst until it has blown over. May it ever remain 
 so; for it is my endeavour to do nothing that I may have to 
 repent of afterwards, and for the rest I leave the result to 
 God 
 
 Schleiermacher to his Wife. 
 
 [ccccxxxiu.] Saturday, 4th August, 1827. 
 
 My dear heart, your letter has been a great consolation 
 to us all; for we have been sixteen days without news of 
 
 you Hildchen is as lively as a fish in the water, 
 
 and went with me last night to see Iplrigenia, and to hear 
 Madame Schcchner once more. Your old u house-cross" also 
 is well again ; and if I can only get a good sleep once in a 
 way, 1 am all right. 
 
 The day that the B 's left with my second letter for 
 
 you, old Jiinickc Avas buried. I followed him to the grave, 
 but I cannot say that I was much edified, for a certain 
 
 pastor II , who was called from Potsdam to deliver the 
 
 funeral discourse, as if there was no one here worthv of the 
 
PROFESSIONAL ANNOYANCES. 307 
 
 office, 'wsk affected, prolix, and dreadfully one-sided. From 
 what he said, you would suppose that the deceased had been 
 the only Christian preacher in Berlin, until eventually some 
 ethers, Avho had learnt their lesson from him, had come to 
 his assistance. What unnecessary trouble these good people 
 give themselves to contract their hearts ! On the other side, 
 there is the philosophical Marheinche, who is proving himself 
 still more narrow-hearted, and the affairs, which, I believe, 
 1 mentioned in my last, are still going on. Hitherto I ha\e 
 escaped pretty well from being personally mixed up in them, 
 but this can hardly last. However, the result cannot in any 
 case be such as to cause uneasiness. 
 
 My dear heart, though 1 was not exactly alarmed at your 
 long silence, I am, nevertheless, qiiite another being since we 
 
 received your letter Last Thursday week the 
 
 girls went with Nicolovius to liust's. I was very busy, and 
 felt myself as forlorn as if my former days of bachelorhood 
 had come back. However, I was forced to rouse myself and 
 go to work, and soon the consciousness of my real condition 
 
 returned, and with it a feeling of sincere thankfulness 
 
 I was obliged to break off suddenly, as is often the case now, 
 so that I can only send you a short farewell. You very often 
 send me no parting words at all, and thus it will be with my 
 present letter also. I must keep all my tenderness in my 
 heart, and see what I can make of it there. 
 
 [ccccxxxiv.] 7th August. 
 
 Our Letten are so constantly being conveyed without 
 the mediation of the post, that I cannot help wishing that I 
 had a great deal to tell you which the post ought not to knew. 
 But everything is going on so quietly, in the house and out of 
 the house — the old well-being and the old woes — that I have 
 nothing but. what is consolatory to write. In regard to official 
 matters, also, everything is as it was, only that I have learnt 
 through a third party that the crown prince is said to have 
 expressed himself very much pleased with my memorandum 
 to the ministry. In the theological faculty a disagreeable 
 
 x 2 
 
308 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 affair has taken place between Marheineke and Neander, but 
 it is too complicated for me to explain to you now. What 
 will be the consequences, and how far I shall myself be drawn 
 into it, I cannot as yet say. However, the general desire to 
 patch up all evils as speedily as possible, will, I suppose, in 
 this case also, be followed by the usual result. 
 
 Good-bye, dear heart. I am expecting the boys whom I am 
 preparing for confirmation ; after that, I am to accompany 
 Twesten to the Solly collection ; and later, I am to have a 
 small gentleman's party in honour of Twesten, who is to leave 
 to-morrow or the day after. 
 
 [ccccxxxv.] 12th August. 
 
 Just as I was writing the above, Eichhorn 
 sent me the sad news of Canning's death. No individual man 
 in Europe is of equal importance at this moment, and for the 
 present I can hardly think of anything else. A moment ago 
 my thoughts were so entirely with you, and now sorrowful 
 sympathy with the state of the world spreads them abroad. 
 Well, God will provide ! But what may be His will in this 
 matter, it is very, very difficult to discern. How every old 
 evil will again raise its head ! How many backslidings, how 
 many new struggles may be in preparation ! . . . . 
 
 Strangers, who take up much of my time, are pouring in 
 at present. The Twestens had not yet left, when the Swedish 
 Count Schwerin arrived, and he is still here, and in conse- 
 quence of his presence, the Schwerin from Putzar has been 
 here a couple of days, so also a Swiss professor, who is to dine 
 with me to-day in company with Pischon. Then there is a 
 new American, who has brought a letter from Bancroft, and 
 a young Scottish divine. But as the vacations are so near 
 at hand, I suppose there will be no new work to do, at least 
 not in connection with the university. 
 
PROFESSIONAL ANNOYANCES. 309 
 
 The Father to the Son in Göttingen. 
 
 [ccccxxxvi.] Berlin, 8th August, 1827. 
 My dear son, I have long been wishing to write to 
 yon, but I have been overwhelmed with business, partly of a 
 very disagreeable kind, and also with visitors, some very 
 dear to me, others indifferent, and thus I have been pre- 
 vented The enigmatical expressions of Nicolovius 
 
 I do not know how to solve ; for even though he ascribe to me 
 a hundred times the paper which I suppose you allude to, I 
 do not see how this affords any explanation in regard to his 
 official relations, except in as far as it shows generally that 
 the contest is still raging with a certain fierceness, and that 
 it is not likely soon to come to a conclusion. Should you, in 
 the meanwhile, have seen in the papers that " the twelve " — 
 for thus we are generally called here — have received a repri- 
 mand, do not picture this to yourself as something very dreadful. 
 The person I pitied the most was President von Bassewitz, who 
 had received the disagreeable mission to read the reprimand 
 to us. Very severe things were indeed said in it; but I have 
 already sent in a written defence, and the whole affair has 
 not caused me a moment's uneasiness, and the less so, as it 
 was announced so long beforehand, that no one was taken by 
 
 surprise I shall also be glad Avhen the Semester 
 
 draws to a close, for I feel more overworked than usual. 
 And now farewell, dear son, and let me soon have pleasant 
 news from you. 
 
 [ccccxxxvn.] Berlin, Wednesday, 2dth August, 1827. 
 
 I also have been greatly affected by 
 Canning's death. Such a man, in such a place, is a rare 
 phenomenon; and, holding in view the present state of Europe, 
 we must confess that it is long since so much has depended 
 on a single individual. However, the fact that his system is 
 maintained even after his death, and that there seems not to 
 have been any serious attempt to overthrow it, denotes con- 
 siderable progress. 
 
310 LITE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 Respecting my own affairs, everything is still in the old 
 state, and probably will remain so. What I most regret is the 
 time that seems to have been spent in vain. However, there 
 is no knowing what may be prevented and what may be pre- 
 pared by such opposition. All send their love, and are looking 
 forward with pleasure to your coming. Therefore, keep your- 
 self bright and cheerful, and come to us thus. Some improve- 
 ment I do discern in you in this respect ; but it is not yet the 
 right thing. As long as you continue to account for your 
 inward state by reference to your outward position and circum- 
 stances, and, consequently, to look to the latter for assistance, 
 you have not reached the proper point ; because as long as this 
 is the case, you are wishing, and not willing. Willing is to 
 "wishing, what the proverb, " Hope puts no man to shame," is 
 *io the proverb, " Hoping and waiting makes many a fool." 
 
 Schleiermache?* to Henrietta Herz. 
 
 [ccccxxxvm.] Berlin, 1827. 
 
 Dearest Herz, you may conceive in what a state of 
 bustle I must be living, since I have not written to you before 
 this. It is with my writing to you as with my working at 
 Plato: over and over again I determine to do so, and yet I 
 leave it undone; so that the Republic gets on even slower 
 than my grandfather's wood, which was carried into the house 
 by an old invalid, avIio lugged in one log every half-hour. 
 
 It is true, if you could be invisibly in my room, you 
 would probably often inquire, " Biit, Schleier, what arc you 
 doing now, in reality?" There is a kind of leisurely inward 
 potting things to rights, which I cannot do without, though 
 I envy all those, and I believe you are of the number, who 
 can get on without anything of the kind. Towards our dear 
 
 L , I am as great a sinner as towards you, and yet she 
 
 stands even in greater need of a cheering word than you do. 
 You must console yourselves with the assurance that I am 
 much with you in spirit, and that I sincerely sympathise 
 with you in your various cares and troubles. I feel quite 
 
PROFESSIONAL ANNOYANCES. 311 
 
 vexed that you should have spent my birthday — <>u which you 
 must know, we missed you much — in the midst of the worst 
 confusion, when it is so difficult to have one settled thought, 
 and still more so, to be conscious of any strong feeling. 
 
 The most urgent matters on which I am at present engaged 
 are the lectures on Church history, which I have only deli- 
 vered once before, and which lead to numerous researches 
 which I cannot resist, though by far the smallest number 
 is turned to present account; and in addition to this, the 
 labour connected with the commission for the reform of the. 
 hynin-book, to which I devote myself very assiduously — 
 the secret of my industry being that I wish as soon as possible 
 to get out of this commission, as I can feel no pleasure in the 
 relations it forces me to keep up, since we have all lallen out 
 about the question of the ritual. This matter becomes daily 
 
 more complicated ; E and his party are growing more 
 
 and more violent, and affairs may still take a tragic turn. 
 What distresses me the most is, that if anything should happen 
 to me, Jette and the children will be the greatest sufferer.-, 
 after my death. For, after all, I am no General Toy. How- 
 ever, I cannot alter my conduct on account of these considera- 
 tions, and with this assurance I must conclude, as I must not 
 write on the fourth page. God bless you, my dear Herz. 
 Everything between us remains as it ever was. 
 
 Schleier mach er to Charlotte von Käthen. 
 
 [ccccxxxix.] Berlin, 18ih December, 1827. 
 
 Dearest sister, I wish I could describe to you how, in 
 spite of all the inexpressible blessings that God showers upon 
 me, I am still a troubled individual, and how the pressure of 
 business often prevents me from enjoying with all my heart, 
 as I ought to do, even the sweetest gifts that God has be- 
 stowed upon me. What place you hold among my treasures 
 I trust you know. However, you are not included in the 
 complaint to which I have just given utterance, inasmuch 
 as I often think of you with heartfelt joy, and thank God 
 
312 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 with all my soul for having given you to me as a sister. 
 In like manner I thank you for the token of affection that 
 you sent for my birth-day, which was again so rich in 
 remembrances of this kind coming from all sides, that I ask 
 myself how it is that I am so favoured. When the year is 
 drawing to a close, as at present, I look back with a sense of 
 humility to the manifold ways in which the grace and mercy 
 of the Lord have been manifested in our family; and my 
 gratitude gathers strength from comparison with the many 
 sorrows that we see around as. Thus lately two young men 
 have been called away in quick succession, who I hoped 
 would in the future have worked much good in the profession 
 which they shared with me, and one of whom was intimately 
 connected with our family. They have been taken away, 
 and I — who can do so little in the future, most of whose work 
 has been done, for my present activity is but an echo of the 
 past — I am left. 
 
 Another complaint that recurs often, with no little bitter- 
 ness, is, that the general stupidity of mankind obliges me to 
 waste so much time and strength unnecessarily ; for it is 
 this stupidity which, on the one hand, causes everything con- 
 nected with public affairs to be overlaid with formalities, and 
 on the other hand, leads to numerous foolish acts, frequently 
 originating in high quarters, which I am obliged to combat 
 with all my might, within my own circle at least. It seems 
 hard that so much of this should fall to my lot; and this 
 year more especially has abounded in such annoyances. Few 
 Avould believe how little excitement there is to me in such 
 controversies, and how deeply I deplore that so large a por- 
 tion of life, which might be spent much more agreeably, 
 should be consumed in this way. It is with my intercourse 
 with absent friends especially that this state of things inter- 
 feres ; but this makes the hope of meeting them once more 
 face to face all the more delightful; and when I think of your 
 coming to see us, it is as if a bright star arose towards which 
 I look with longing heart. Ah ! do try to realize your 
 project ! . . . . 
 
VISIT TO ENGLAND. 313 
 
 In the autumn of 1828 Schielermacher paid a flying 
 visit to England, by way of the Rhine and Rotterdam, 
 accompanied by Alexander von Forstner, and stayed 
 a few days with his sister and Arndt at Bonn. The 
 following letters were written during his absence on 
 this occasion : — 
 
 [ccccxl.] Bonn, Saturday morning. 
 
 Yesterday we dined alone (with the Arndts), and 
 Siegerich * paid a little prayer in the true Arndt style. 
 After dinner we took a nice walk to Blittersdorff, likewise with- 
 out any addition to our party. Nitzsch was, indeed, to have 
 joined us, but he did not arrive until tea-time. The little 
 flock looked very sweet. Harthmuth (sumamed Sparrow- 
 hawk), and Wilibald, clad in little pink striped frocks, were 
 drawn in a little waggon. The other three, in blue blouses, 
 ran gambolling before \is. We revelled for some time in the 
 glorious view across the Rhine, while indulging in pleasant 
 conversation and in a glass of wine and a cup of coffee, and 
 then we strolled slowly back, so as to be home by tea- 
 time, after which we " theologized " for some hours with 
 Nitzsch, who is an excellent and very pleasant man. The 
 next morning w r e paid our visits, and dined at Sack's. The 
 people from Sicgburg had come over, father, f mother, and 
 Dora, who had just returned from Kling's. They brought 
 with them the Niethammers from Munich, who are staying 
 with them; and Nitzsch and Nasse were also among the 
 guests. The mother Jacobi \ won my heart at once with her 
 sweet and hearty manner. We had a good deal of discussion 
 at table. After dinner came the little president § and Schle- 
 gel to return our visit. 
 
 * One of Arndt's children. 
 
 f Geheime Medizinalrath Jacobi, the director of the lunatic asylum 
 in Siegburg, and a son of the philosopher Jacobi. 
 % A daughter of Claudius, the Wandsbecher Bote. 
 § Another ion of Jacobi's. 
 
314 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 In fact, dear mother, the only evil that I have to complain 
 of is, that I shall be so long without accounts from home. 
 May you all be well and happy under the merciful protection 
 of God. Remember me most heartily to all the dear chil- 
 dren, and tell them that they are daily before my eyes. From 
 the bottom of my heart I commend you to God. May He be 
 with you and the whole house. 
 
 [ccccxli.] London, 4th September, Evening. 
 
 I must write you a few lines on the first evening of 
 our arrival, my heart's own wife, and, through you, to all our 
 dear ones, to let you know how very fortunate we have been. 
 When we got into the diligence on Tuesday morning, to pro- 
 ceed to the Hague, we met there an honest paper- merchant 
 from Wesel, with a daughter of fifteen, who had been on 
 board the steamer with us during the latter part of the trip, 
 and who were, like ourselves, economical sight-seers. We 
 made up a party with them at the Hague, and thus escaped 
 with very little expense ; and if our sight-seeing was limited, 
 it was by time, and not because of the want of funds. The 
 most interesting sights of all were the town itself, which 
 presents a striking picture of Dutch neatness, and the picture 
 gallery, which, however, we had only time to rush through. 
 Nevertheless, I had leisure to mark many a ßubens, Euys- 
 dael, Van Dyk, Potter, De Steen, Sachtlevens, &c. Of the 
 Italian school there is little or nothing, and of the old Nether- 
 land school also very little, and that little not good. Next to 
 these in interest was the Bosch, the Thicrgarten of the Hague; 
 but we did not get so far as Ilnys tot clem Bosch, which one 
 might term its Charlottenburg, but turned off just as it was 
 coming into sight, because we preferred renouncing the inspec- 
 tion of the palace, however beautiful it might be, to giving 
 up the walk to Scheveningen — a Stralau on the Northsea — 
 whither we went to pay our respects to the latter, and to 
 recommend ourselves to its good graces for the morrow. The 
 young maiden, to whom I was obliged to pay court, because 
 Forstner neglected doing so, had never before seen the sea, 
 
VISIT TO LONDON. 315 
 
 and I therefore led her for enough out to allow it to moisten 
 the soles of her feet, and presented her with pretty little shells, 
 some of which I bought for a stiiver, and others of which 1 
 picked up myself. Notwithstanding the cheapness of this 
 excursion, our fears as to the sufficiency of our funds wen' 
 again roused, on the Wednesday morning, when we heard a 
 Prince Galliziu making a tremendous uproar in the hotel 
 about the shamefully exorbitant charges, and I made up my 
 mind that Forstner would be obliged to pay a second visit to 
 our friend the merchant, to negotiate another loan. However, 
 when the bill came in, we were delivered from this fear, and 
 when we went on board the steamboat, The King of the 
 Netherlands, just in front of the house, we had still half a 
 Wilhelmsd'or in pocket, which we exchanged on board for 
 English money, but which, in this shape, vanished from our 
 possession the moment we landed. 
 
 Our course up the Thames was greatly favoured by wind 
 and weather. Everything was beautifully lighted up by the 
 sun, so that we could recognize from afar every important 
 edifice on the banks, and up and down the river went ships 
 in great numbers, some with Ml sail, and yet the Englishmen 
 on board told us that, comparatively, there were not many 
 that day. From Gravesend to the Custom House, a whole 
 world is disclosed to you ; but a great view of the entire city 
 cannot, of course, be had from the Thames, and to obtain 
 this, I suppose, we shall have to mount up to the top of the 
 .Monument or of St. Paul's. As yet I do not know what we 
 are going to do this morning 
 
 [ccccxlii.] Afternoon. 
 
 Everything, with the exception of the visit to the 
 Prussian consul, came otherwise than we had planned, and 
 time has run on so, that 1 have barely a moment to say that 
 we have been in St. Paul's — only in the lower part — and that 
 neither in point of devotion nor of artistic taste have we 
 been rewarded for the trouble. 
 
316 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 [ccccxLm.] Sunday, 1th. 
 
 I do not mean to say that St. Paul's is not beautiful, 
 but the funeral service at which we were present was any- 
 thing but beautiful ; it was excessively dry, and the female 
 mourners, who stood around the grave, were wrapped in black 
 draperies, which are probably kept in the church for the 
 purpose, for afterwards, when I saw them within the edifice, 
 they were no longer clad in this manner. The clergyman 
 read the service Avith gi-eat indifference, and the whole was 
 very unimpressive. The church itself is, however, very im- 
 posing, and nothing can be more glorious and elevating than 
 the monuments that indicate the gratitude felt by a whole 
 nation towards single individuals ; and there are here not 
 only monuments to great heroes, such as Kodney, Nelson, 
 St. Vincent (if these names should be unknown to any of 
 you, look for them in the Encyclopaedia), but also to more 
 subordinate characters, more especially young naval officers, 
 who distinguished themselves by bi*avery and fidelity. The 
 deeds of all are mentioned shortly in simple inscriptions, 
 but their memory will be kej)t alive as long as this edifice, 
 destined to withstand the power of ages, shall rear its head 
 aloft 
 
 [ccccxliv.] Saturday, loth. 
 
 What will you say when I tell you that, 
 after all, I have been unfaithful to my determination, and that 
 I have engaged to preach here to-morrow Aveek ? The first 
 proposal of pastor Schwabe I triumphantly resisted, but Stein- 
 kopf conquered me yesterday, having surprised me by the 
 sincere and earnest manner in which he entreated me to do so, 
 when we were alone. He begged me not to give him a deci- 
 sive answer until this morning ; and before writing to commu- 
 nicate my assent, I have examined myself well, to ascertain 
 whether vanity had any share in my motives. I believe, 
 however, that I may feel quite easy in this respect, and more 
 particularly because, as far as I have understood, his congre- 
 gation mostly consists of persons who do not belong to the 
 
VISIT TO ENGLAND. 317 
 
 upper and highly-educated classes. In my plans, however, it 
 makes an entire upset. 
 
 [ccccxlv.] Wednesday Evening, 17th. 
 
 I dined to-day in the country with a thoroughly 
 
 English family, but, unfortunately, one without children. 
 
 "We were only four, and I was obliged to help myself through 
 
 with the very little English that I know. Even here, this 
 
 Mr. G is a phenomenon, he being a banker, who not 
 
 only possesses, but also reads Greek authors, and who is 
 
 engaged in writing a history of Greece You 
 
 must rest contented with these few dry outlines, for I have 
 here neither the time, the quiet, nor the conveniences neces- 
 sary for writing. But the short notices in my memorandum- 
 book will afford subjects for many a narrative when I shall 
 be with you again. Once more, good-bye ! I embrace you 
 in spirit, dear mother, and all our loved ones. How delighted 
 I shall be when I find myself journeying homeAvards ! May 
 you all, likewise, rejoice at the thought of getting back. 
 
 Your old father, Schl. 
 
 In January, 1831, Schleiermaclier, who had until 
 then never received any decoration, was honoured with 
 the Order of the Red Eagle (third class), and he inter- 
 preted this as a sign that the favour of the King, of 
 which he had long been deprived, had been restored to 
 him. The great value which he placed upon this, and 
 the importance with which, in consequence, lie invested 
 an event that would otherwise have had no significance 
 in his eyes, is shown in the subjoined letter. 
 
 Schleiermacher to the King of Prussia. 
 [ccccxlvi..] 
 
 In graciously bestowing upon me the Order of the lied 
 Eogle, your Majesty has given me a proof of your favour that 
 
318 LIFE OF SCHLEIERM ACHER. 
 
 has caused me a degree of emotion such as few things could 
 call forth, and that has arisen like a bright star over my old 
 nge, and will shed a lustre over the future, the reflection of 
 which will serve to dispel much of the gloom of the past. 
 Although I am deeply conscious that nothing that happens to 
 me personally, however much I may feel honoured and grati- 
 fied by it, can increase the sentiments of reverential fidelity 
 and devotion which I entertain for your Majesty, nor the 
 pure love which I bear to my beloved country, the well- 
 being of which has been so greatly promoted by your 
 Majesty's Government, whose efforts in this direction have 
 been signally blessed by God, I can, nevertheless, not re- 
 frain from laying at your Majesty's feet the expressions of a 
 grateful heart. Henceforth may everything that I conscien- 
 tiously endeavour to effect, for the good of the Evangelical 
 Church, in my capacity as clergyman and as teacher in the 
 university, be so fortunate as to secure the gracious appro- 
 bation of your Majesty. 
 
 Somewhat later in the same year, a circumstance 
 occurred which afforded Schleiermacher a welcome 
 opportunity for expressing publicly the relation in 
 which he stood to the political parties of the day, that 
 is, of the period of fermentation immediately succeeding 
 the July Revolution in France. In the Parisian journal 
 Le Message? des Chambres, there appeared in February, 
 1831, a series of fictitious letters from Berlin, which 
 caused great sensation in that city, and in which, 
 among other things, Schleiermacher's political position 
 was represented in a manner which he felt himself 
 bound emphatically to disavow. This he did in a letter 
 to the Message?, which was not, however, inserted, but 
 which, at his own request, appeared subsequently in 
 
LETTER TO FRENCH JOURNAL. 319 
 
 the Allgemeine Preußische Staatszeit ung, accompanied 
 by a complaint of the unfairness of the Messager, in 
 refusing to insert this refutation of matters of a per- 
 sonal character. The letter to the Messager, written in 
 French, was as follows : — 
 
 To the Editor of the "Messager des Chambres" 
 
 [ccccxlvii.] Berlin, 8th March. 
 
 Sir, — As it has pleased one of your correspondents in 
 this city to allude to me repeatedly, I trust that you will allow 
 space in your columns for the subjoined answer to his remarks, 
 if for no other reason, at least for the sake of your German 
 readers. 
 
 First of all, I must disclaim the surname of great, as we 
 Germans use this word so very sparingly that it can hardly 
 be applied to a man like myself, except for the purpose of 
 throwing ridicule upon him, which I am not aware that I have 
 deserved. 
 
 Seeondli/. I am equally far from being " the most eminent 
 Christian preacher in Germany " — I believe that was the 
 expressiou used — and my sermons and discourses cannot pos- 
 sibly be models of eloquence, as I never write them before 
 delivering them. To attempt to be " sublime," as a preacher, 
 would even be contrary to my principles; for the more 
 sublime the Gospel, the more simple may the sermon be. 
 
 Third!;/. We pray every Sunday that God will grant flic- 
 king such wisdom as he needs for the fulfilment of the duties 
 imposed upon him by God : but when doing this we are not 
 aware that we express any other " wish of the people," than 
 that it may lead a tranquil life under the rule and protection 
 of the king, and ever draw nearer to the goal of Christian 
 perfection. Such, sir, is the language of our Protestant 
 church, and from this I have never diverged. 
 
 Fourthly, it is very true that I was "for a time forbidden 
 to preach;" but it was from my doctor that the order enii- 
 nated. 
 
320 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 Fifthly. I belong to no party of the Left. Your expres- 
 sions, right and left, right and left centre, are quite foreign to 
 our relations ; and were your correspondent in truth a Prus- 
 sian, he would not have made use of party appellations which, 
 among us, no one would apply to himself. More especially, he 
 would not have spoken of a party of the Left, secretly intent 
 on revolutionary thoughts. We have made enormous pro- 
 gress since the peace of Tilsit, and that without revolution, 
 without chambers, nay, even without liberty of the press ; but 
 the people have ever been with the king and the king with 
 the people. Under these circumstances, must not a man be 
 out of his senses who would pretend that henceforward we 
 should progress more rapidly by means of a revolution ? 
 I, for my part, am always sure to be on the king's side, 
 when I am on the side of the most enlightened men of the 
 nation. 
 
 Finally, in order not to be utterly opposed to vom- corre- 
 spondent on all points, I am willing to express to him my 
 thanks for the honourable place Avhich he assigns to me among 
 the teachers of the university, though I am bound to confess at 
 the same time, that I woidd rather be confounded in the com- 
 prehensive etcetera, under which he conceals the names of a 
 number of highly distinguished men. Accept, &c. 
 
 Schleiermacher. 
 
 Schleieimiaclier to his Stejy-Son* 
 
 [ccccxlvhi.] Berlin, March, 1832. 
 
 Accept also my hearty greetings, beloved son, on oc- 
 casion of your birthday, and my best wishes that you may 
 advance in your career through healthy, cheerful activity, 
 remaining united with us in spirit, though distant in body. 
 Remember that your old father is daily drawing nearer to the 
 last goal, and that it would be a great consolation to him could 
 he live to see you in an independent position, so that your 
 mother might be left with fewer anxieties weighing upon 
 
 * The son had a few months previously received an appointment 33 
 Referendary to the Government is Aix-la-Chapelle. 
 
HEKRNHÜT SYMPATHIES. 321 
 
 her Yon did quite right to participate in the 
 
 merriment of the late carnival ; but I am not so pleased to 
 find that you write letters while the board is sitting. You 
 must endeavour to acquire the power, not only of listening 
 attentively to an uninteresting discussion, but also of learning 
 something from it. It is this that leads to the position of 
 Ober-Regierung-Rath and of Präsident. During the vacations 
 I will write more fully. I commend you to God, dear son of 
 my heart. 
 
 Schleiermacher to Christlieb Reichet, Bishop of the (Con- 
 gregation of the United Brethren in Bertlielsdorff. 
 
 [ccccxlix.] Berlin, 3rd April, 1832. 
 
 Beloved and honoured friend, I have long owed you 
 an answer to your kind and lengthy communication relative to 
 the departure of our dear Albertini. The news came very 
 unexpectedly upon me, for it so happened that I had not for 
 some time seen the good Stobwasser,* who has now also been 
 called away, and who was then already very ailing ; and the 
 last news which he had communicated to me regarding our 
 friend, and which was most gratifying to me, was that he had 
 specially recmested to have the narrative of the life of my late 
 sisterf sent to him without any curtailment. 
 
 That he also remembered me so kindly in his last days has 
 been like a soothing balsam to the wound inflicted by his 
 death. What can we say to it ? It is a sad loss to the con- 
 gregation, and to many kind, pious souls beyond its limits. 
 But new seeds are ever sprouting forth with gladdening 
 promise; and though the work of the Lord may not seem to 
 prosper equally at all times, it will not suffer because indi- 
 vidual labourers have been called away, even in the midst of 
 the most energetic activity. It has, more especially, long been 
 evident to me, that in the congregation, as in the church, the 
 presence of pre-eminent individualities is far less important 
 
 * Preacher to the congregation of the United Brethren in Berlin, 
 j- Schleiermacher's sister Charlotte died in the year 1831. 
 VOL. II. Y 
 
322 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 than the faithfulness of the great mass, and a right under- 
 standing of the Gospel by them, and that the necessity for 
 remarkable individual combatants will grow ever less urgent. 
 This is more particularly applicable to the community of the 
 United Brethren, among whom certain maxims are once for 
 all established, and the internal conflicts cannot, thank God, 
 be so violent. Nevertheless, even this faith does not suffice to 
 soothe the wounded heart at first ; the feelings will vindicate 
 their rights, and I have, therefore, wafted many a sigh after 
 our beloved friend, and rejoice at every word from his lips in 
 each new number of the Gemeinenachrichten (the Journal of 
 the Congregation), and am always fearing that it may be the 
 last. For this reason, also, I have been much pleased to learn 
 that we may expect the publication of a collection of his dis- 
 courses. Not long after your valued letter came to hand, I 
 received the account of his life and the discourse by dear 
 brother Külbing 
 
 I always thought it probable that he would leave no record 
 from his own hand of the providential guidance of his life, and 
 I cannot attach any blame to him on this account, though I 
 hope his example herein may not be too extensively followed, 
 and that the custom of recording the events of their life may 
 not fall into total desuetude among the brethren. What he 
 says about his want of diligence while in the Prcdagogium, 
 must refer to the time previous to my arrival, and I know 
 that it was from me that he received an impulsion towards the 
 study of botany, and also of mathematics, which latter he had, 
 strangely enough, entirely neglected. But as regards our other 
 studies, the impulsion came more from him than from me. 
 
 I would fain have learnt something more explicit about the 
 various changes that had taken place in his mind since the 
 period of our separation; but even had I questioned him on 
 the subject, I should hardly have learnt much. I can only 
 say that in spite of all the sceptical tendencies that had been 
 developed in US, he was even at the time of our separation, 
 hrmly determined to remain in the Congregation. And thus 
 in reference to him also the appositeness of the observation 
 
HERKNHUT SYMPATHIES. 323 
 
 has been proved, which the reverend old Zembsch addressed 
 to me when 1 paid him a visit, during my professorship at 
 Halle : " Brother Baumeister," said the reverend old man. 
 " seems at that time not to have taken into considera- 
 tion that it is only through scepticism that theologians are 
 formed." For myself I may say in reference to this, that amid 
 the various conflicts which I am necessarily exposed to in 
 my career, and amid the numerous misunderstandings of the 
 extreme parties on both sides, through which I am obliged 
 to wind my way, it is ever a great encouragement to me 
 when I discover even a faint glimmer that leads me to 
 think that we hold the same t>-oal in view and are labouring 
 for the same end. Therefore, your expressions on this head 
 have been highly gratifying to me ; they concur with my 
 clearest consciousness, yet I do not marvel when many minds, 
 though resting on the same basis, nevertheless fail to under- 
 stand me. However much this pains me on the one hand, 
 on the other I must confess, that the more I reflect, the more 
 confirmed I am in the conviction, that I am walking in the 
 path assigned to me, that in so doing I am effecting that which 
 I am destined to effect, and that I ought not for any considera- 
 tion to diverge from that which is natural to me, if I would 
 not by my own act destroy the blessing that attends my voca- 
 tion. Thus at least I learn to unite, quietly within myself, 
 with many who believe themselves far distant from me, and 
 
 herein dwells a peculiar life-giving energy 
 
 My dear Albert ini is one more added to the number of those 
 who have stood nearest to me during some period of my pil- 
 grimage, and who have gone before me. As for my dear sister 
 Lotte, I rejoiced when she was relieved from the yoke, as she 
 herself so much desired it; yet it is a heavy trial to have lost 
 so faithful a heart, one who had lived through my whole life 
 with me, and who had ever clung to me witli faith and love. 
 But she was called away in the right time, for had she lived 
 to see the departure of our dear Stobwasser, to whom and also 
 to whose wife she was most tenderly attached, it would almost 
 have been too much for her. 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 LIFE OF SCIILEIEMIACHER. 
 
 Should I be able to carry out a little plan which I have 
 sketched out for the Easter holidays, it is possible that I may 
 pay a flying visit to Herrnhut. My hearty greetings to ... . 
 I commend you all most heartily to the Lord. 
 
 Your faithfully attached 
 
 SCHLEIERMACHErt. 
 
 The Mother to the Son (at Aiv-la-Chapelle). 
 
 [ccccl.] Berlin, Gtk May, 1832. 
 
 . I am sure that you will be pleased to hear 
 that your dear father is taking a little tour for his recreation. 
 He left on the second holiday, immediately after church. I 
 shall never forget the impression it made upon me, to see dear 
 father in his blue blouse, .with his silvery white hair, as lively 
 and youthful as a young lad about to wander forth into the 
 world for the first time, giving a parting word to all, who 
 
 pressed round him with joyful emotion On the 
 
 10th they will be back, and father will then no doubt at once 
 answer your letter about j^onr travelling project 
 
 Sehleiermaehcr to his Step-Son. 
 
 [ccccu.] Berlin, 10th May, 1832. 
 
 My dear son, immediately before my departure, as 
 well a3 since my return, up to the present moment, I have 
 been so pressed with business, that I have not been able to 
 write you even a few lines. Even to-day the time for so 
 doing is very sparingly measured out to me ; but I dare say 
 you would rather put up with a few words only than remain 
 longer in suspense. It has long been my intention that you 
 should travel, but the present period docs not seem to me 
 suitable for the purpose. Once only you can enjoy this pri- 
 vilege, and therefore you ought not to rest satisfied with 
 revelling in the beauties of nature, but ought also to endea- 
 vour to make yourself acquainted with the social conditions 
 of the various countries, and to acquire knowledge that may 
 
LETTERS TO THE SON. 32Ö 
 
 be useful to you in your vocation. But tit this moment you 
 
 would not even be able to enjoy the former in peace. In 
 Switzerland you would find the; populations in a state of such 
 intense excitement, that no one would be ready to impart the 
 information you might desire; besides which the various con- 
 stitutions are in a state of perfect dissolution, and there is 
 great reason to anticipate the outbreak of a civil war. In 
 Italy things arc pretty much in the same condition, and 
 under such circumstances, every traveller in the Austrian 
 territories may be sure to be beset by difficulties and annoy- 
 ances that may occasion a waste of time and money which lie 
 ought not in reason to incur. Upon the whole it seems to me 
 better that we should defer this undertaking until after your 
 final examination. Should even the travelling then cost a 
 little more, it will not at all events upset you in regard to 
 your studies, as woidd be the case at the present moment, 
 and you would also derive more solid advantages from it. 
 Try to follow my advice for this once with a willing heart, 
 but nevertheless keep the project in yoirr thoughts, and in 
 your choice of reading hold your travels in some measure in 
 view 
 
 [cccclii.] Glh Aiujust, 1832. 
 
 . . . . The resolutions of the Diet which, accord- 
 ing to what people say, have been passed in consequence of 
 the urgent representations of the constitutional German govern- 
 ments, and which therefore spring, not from any misunder- 
 standings that may prevail at a distance, but from a home 
 source, have also produced a very painful impression here. 
 It is rumoured that the king has expressed himself to the 
 effect, that he would be very willing to support the gentle- 
 men, if he could but be sure that they would really govern 
 well. Everybody must al present be looking forward with 
 great anxiety to the new press law, which it is thought will 
 remedy many evils. I do not think, however, that it will 
 
 succeed in so doing Otherwise our social circle 
 
 is again extending a little in consequence of the arrival of the 
 
326 LIFE OF SCIILEIERMACHER. 
 
 Steffenses and the Winterfell. My dear Steffens I find, as 
 far as I am concerned, quite unchanged 
 
 Sc! de ier mach er to his Wife* 
 [ccccliii.] 
 
 My dearly beloved wife, it is very long since I wrote 
 to you, and yet I have been wishing very much to do so. I 
 had to write an essay (not merely a flourish of the pen) for 
 the academy, which I read to it the day before yesterday, 
 and besides that there was an accumulation of smaller mat- 
 ters to be attended to. In the meanwhile you must have 
 had the children's letters, and cannot therefore have been 
 
 uneasy 
 
 In reference to your letter to Hildeben, darling mother, I 
 have something on my mind. You have adopted the way of 
 speaking constantly of the Saviour and placing God quite in 
 the backgroimd. If it be the Saviour also who speaks to us 
 from nature, then there can hardly be any direct relation 
 more between us and God. And yet Christ himself seeks 
 above all to impress upon us that through him we come 
 to the Father, and that the Father abides in us. In your 
 way the true simplicity of Christianity is absorbed in some 
 self-made system that Christ would not have approved. I am 
 so afraid that the poor girl may get confused between your 
 ways and mine ; for she is no longer so wanting in reflection 
 as not to be struck by the discrepancy. Dearest heart, do 
 try to hold fast the belief that with Christ and through Christ, 
 we are to rejoice in his and our Father. 
 
 Tlie Wife to Schleiermacher. 
 
 [ccccliv.] Salzbnmn, 1 hth Avgust. 
 
 . . . . The rebuke contained in your last letter 
 but one, darling father, I accept with childlike submission, 
 and I will not fail to watch over myself, that I may not give 
 
 * She was absent at a bath with one of her adopted daughters, 
 who was suffering from ill health. 
 
LETTERS TO THE SON. 327 
 
 cause for misapprehension. As regards myself, I must con- 
 fess to you, that I never feel any desire or necessity to keep 
 God our heavenly Father, and God our Saviour, distinct. 
 I know not to whom it is I raise my heart in prayer or 
 thanksgiving — to my feelings they are one — and I only be- , 
 come conscious of the distinction when I think of the human 
 life and activity of the Saviour. If there be in this a con- 
 fusion of ideas against which I ought to struggle, do tell me 
 so. Farewell, my own dear life. 
 
 Schleier ■macher to his Wife. 
 
 [cccclv.] Berlin, oth September, 1832. 
 
 My clear mother, on my return from church last 
 
 Sunday, I found Hiickel in my room, and was gladdened by 
 
 the receipt of your dear letters, and of all the accounts he 
 
 gave me of you, which, thank God, contained nothing but 
 
 what was good Our Jonas left yesterday. He 
 
 seems to have made a very favourable impression on Bishop 
 Neander, which gives me much pleasure. To-day, I had a 
 
 long conversation in the street with A. von H , who, as 
 
 an ultra-liberal, is furious at the present state of German 
 affairs. I do not quite participate in his feelings, but I am 
 not either so easy in regard to these matters as our dear 
 Eichhorn. It often makes me sad to think, that after all our 
 bright hopes and good beginnings, I shall, when I depart this 
 life, leave our German world in such a very precarious state — 
 for this will most probably be my lot. But I will not now 
 give way to these reflections, or my letter will be too late for 
 the post. May I only be allowed to continue my life of 
 domestic contentment with you and the children. God be 
 with you, my dear, dear heart. 
 
 The Mother to her Son. 
 
 [cccclvi.] Berlin, 2Gth November, 1832. 
 
 How merciful is God to allow us to be all 
 gathered again in renewed health and spirits around your dear 
 
328 LIFE OF SCIILEIEKMACHER. 
 
 father, who is always the most precious figure in the picture ! 
 On his birthday, lie was so cheerful, so indescribably amiable. 
 The detailed account of the festivities I leave to the girls to 
 give you. You will receive an abundance of letters, and, 
 taken all together, I have no doubt they will afford you a 
 very lively picture of our present state. Our home life is 
 just now very cheerful and animated, and I am greatly 
 
 pleased with all the children How uncertain, 
 
 however, is the future, and you also, my dear son, may 
 be thrown out of your present career by the Avar — in 
 what an unsettled state are all the great common interests 
 of mankind ! I thank God that He has given me faith to 
 trust so entirely in His fatherly love that no cares or anxieties 
 can trouble me, but that I feel ready to submit cheerfully 
 to all his ways, and that I can rest in Him. My prayer is 
 that you also will allow yourself to be guided by Him ; for 
 He will guide you better than any thoughts or wishes of 
 mine 
 
 [cccclvii.] Berlin, llth May, 1833. 
 
 These lines will be delivered to you by Mr. von 
 
 {St , of whom we have unfortunately seen but very little. 
 
 But now, let me turn to you, my dear son, with 
 whom I have not exchanged a word for so long a time. I 
 often yearn for a voice from your heart addressed to mine, and 
 cannot conceal from you that I miss it sadly. For I cannot 
 allow myself to believe that my Ehrenfried is entirely devoid 
 of all inward life and emotions, and I therefore think that in 
 his letters he only shows us the one side of his life — that 
 which is turned towards the outward world. How could I 
 doubt that in his soul also there are quiet depths which reflect 
 the images and re-echo the tones of the Eternal and the Holy ! 
 I will not warn you not to allow too great a preponderance 
 to that half of your being that is turned towards the outward 
 world, for you will find this warning in every line of the 
 Book of books, which I trust you do not fail to open every 
 day ; but I would fain beg you to bestow from time to time 
 
LETTERS TO THE SON. 329 
 
 upon your mother, who feels little interest in the things that 
 belong to the noisy mart of life, some word from the quiet 
 depths of your heart, or some earnest thought, gained as a 
 solid acquisition amid the noisv bustle. 
 
 Do not suppose, my dear Ehrenfried, that I do not from 
 my heart rejoice that you should learn to know life from its 
 outwardly attractive sides likewise, and draw lessons from it 
 in this way also; I do not object to this, I only say, Beware 
 that you do not habituate yourself too much to leave the 
 deeper wants unsatisfied. If these cravings have once been 
 entirely suppressed, it may at another time be too late to try 
 to call them forth again 
 
 As concerns our social life, I suppose your sisters have 
 told you that our Wednesday receptions are very much fre- 
 quented, so that we cannot be said to live in great retirement. 
 Air. von Ilaxthausen in particular, has requested me to 
 remember him very kindly to you. He is again here, and a 
 very welcome Wednesday guest ; for he never talks for the 
 sake of talking; but the things that he has seen he has judged 
 with understanding, and his culture has penetrated deeply 
 — that is to say, it has assumed an original character — and 
 how few people are there of whom this can be said! .... 
 The Wednesday evenings are often rendered doubly cheerful 
 by a great number of young people. The circle of young 
 maidens in our house, is a spectacle which gladdens many 
 hearts; and how this fresh and youthful circle gathered round 
 your father embellishes and sweetens his old age, you will 
 readily conceive. 
 
 Schleiermaeher to his Step-Son. 
 
 [cccclviii.] Berlin, Vdth May, 1833. 
 
 . For the rest, my dear son, I almost upbraid 
 myself for having yielded to your wish to go to Aix-la- 
 Chapelle, because your life there, independently of your 
 official occupations, seems to me to be very empty. I can 
 hardly conceive that there should not be among the officials 
 
330 LIFE OF SCHLEIEHMACHER. 
 
 in the place, some men from the other provinces, in whose 
 homes there is some kind of family life, to which you might gain 
 admission I am willing to believe that this exclu- 
 sion has not caused you to lose all taste for a better mode of 
 life, but at all events this taste has found no nourishment. 
 Your sisters have told you, I presume, how many 
 melancholy losses we have sustained latterly in our most 
 intimate circle. Poor Jacobi!* I do not know how he will 
 ever get over it. The unexpected and sudden death of Prince 
 Padzivill and the almost hopeless illness of the Princess Eliza- 
 beth have also affected me very much. Indeed for some time 
 one painful call on our sympathies has followed close upon 
 
 another 
 
 HoAvever, these considerations have no part in 
 my proposal to you to get yourself removed this last year to 
 some other centre of administration ; for herein I have only 
 been guided by what you say about the different arrangements 
 that prevail. For on the one hand I am not quite sure that total 
 unacquaintance with certain branches may not injure you at 
 yoxir final examination ; and, on the other hand, I also fear 
 that, by remaining where you are, you may in future be con- 
 sidered as being exclusively destined for that locality, which 
 would, I confess, be far from what I wish for you, as the 
 hierher elements of life are thrown too much into the back- 
 ground there. However, I may and will leave this entirely 
 to your own judgment and decision. If, therefore, you feel 
 sure that your stay at Aix will not entail either of these 
 disadvantages upon you, I am content that you should 
 remain 
 
 In July 1833, Schleiermacliers wife went with her 
 
 invalid friend Mrs. F , and the daughter of the 
 
 latter, to Putbus in Rügen for sea-bathing. Subse- 
 quently Sclileicrmacher took the rest of the family to 
 
 * lie had lost his wife, a daughter of Nicolovius. 
 
VISIT TO SCANDINAVIA. 331 
 
 Putzar in Pomerania, the estate of Count Schwerin, 
 whence they afterwards joined their mother in Rügen, 
 while Schleiermacher undertook a journey through 
 Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, with his friend Count 
 Schwerin. 
 
 [In a letter to his wife, previous to his departure, 
 Schleiermacher speaks of this tour as probahly the last 
 he will undertake, "with the exception of the long one" 
 from life to death, and thus in truth it proved ; and as 
 if this feeling made him cling more tenderly than ever 
 to those who had constituted his greatest happiness 
 through life, his letters during his passage through the 
 Scandinavian countries contain little more than the 
 expressions of his intense uneasiness at not receiving 
 news from his dear ones, whose letters had been unac- 
 countably retarded, in consequence of which he even at 
 one moment contemplated returning home directly. In 
 addition to this there is a bare mention of the places he 
 has visited, and the distinguished personages to whom 
 he has been introduced, among whom, to his greai 
 delight, was not the king. Whether he was in any way 
 specially prejudiced against Bernadottc, or the fact of 
 the latter being a Frenchman, and originally one of 
 Napoleon's marshals, was at the bottom of it, does not 
 appear in the letters ; but in writing to his wife of the 
 urgency with which his friends press him to allow him- 
 self to be presented to the king, who was in the habit 
 of receiving all foreign aavanta who visited his capital, 
 Schleiermacher says : " I have not the slightest desire to 
 make myself ridiculous with my bad French before that 
 Gascon, and if it be at all possible to avoid it, I will not 
 
332 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 go to him." But more than all, these letters (which are 
 included in the German edition, but have been omitted 
 by the translator because of their trivialness) are 
 remarkable for the absence of every indication of the 
 fact, that his progress through the three northern king- 
 doms was a continual ovation. In Copenhagen more 
 particularly, his arrival was hailed with the greatest 
 enthusiasm, and the professors and students of the uni- 
 versity, as well as a number of distinguished men of all 
 classes there, joined in a public banquet in his honour, 
 which ended with a torch procession, the never-failing 
 feature in German and Scandinavian ovations.] 
 
 Schleier macher to his Step-Son. 
 
 [cccclix.] 6th November, 1833. 
 
 My poor son, you have indeed had to Avait long for 
 accounts from me ! When I think that the clay after-to- 
 morrow it will be four weeks since I returned, it seems too 
 bad not to have written to you before this, and one of your 
 sisters, at least, ought to have put pen to paper for you. I, 
 for my poor part, have been thrown at once into such a tur- 
 moil of business, that I may be absolved from all blame. 
 That I should respond to your pleasant and circumstantial 
 account of your excursion by a similar narrative of my travels 
 through Scandinavia, is, alas, out of the question. Such nar- 
 ratives must be written on the spot, as my dear travelling 
 companion did, while I did nothing more than jot down short 
 notices in my memorandum book to aid me in the circum- 
 stantial account of my wanderings which I knew I should 
 have to give, when we should all be assembled round the tea- 
 table ; but in which I have not, during the four weeks I have 
 been back, got further than to the northernmost points of our 
 journey. 
 
 . . . Of the kindness with which I was received every- 
 
VISIT TO SCANDINAVIA. 333 
 
 where, I cannot say enough. I was only sorry to find, when I 
 returned home, that so much ado had been made about it in 
 the newspapers. It was amusing to see how at one moment 
 the Count took me under his protection and at another I took 
 him under mine ; he me when among the great in rank, I him 
 when among the learned ; and how Ave got on without a 
 knowledge of the langnage of the country (which indeed I 
 understand pretty well when I read it, but which I can as 
 little understand when spoken as I can speak it myself) by the 
 help of an interpreting coachman, when we had to communi- 
 cate with the jjZe&s, and in society with the aid of a mouthful 
 
 of French For the rest, I am delighted that you 
 
 were able to make that tour. Your letters, written at the 
 period, have given us all, and I think me more especially, very 
 great pleasure. You were intent upon improving yourself 
 rationally, and I believe you have succeeded, and that you 
 sympathized so warmly with the life at Ehringhaus, has given 
 me greater confidence even than before in regard to your 
 
 future I see that mother has already made out 
 
 a clean bill of health for me ; and, thank God, I can fully 
 confirm it. During the four weeks that I have been at home 
 I have tried myself in various ways, and have borne all 
 very well. Could I but get rid of some of my business occu- 
 pations, so as to be able to devote myself more to literary 
 labours ; but I am afraid that will not be possible. . 
 I hope you will let us know in your next how the crown- 
 prince* has been received at Aix. I am very much pleased 
 to find that his journey has been a kind of triumphal proces- 
 sion. I believe the best of him, and hope for the best from 
 him, and neither fear the aristocratic nor the pietistic ten- 
 dencies which people attribute to him. And now, farewell, 
 for the present, dear son ! May God continue to be with you 
 as wc desire. 
 
 * The present King of Prussia. 
 
334 LIFE OF SCHLEIEKMACHER. 
 
 Schleiermache r to his Son. 
 [cccclx.] 
 
 I see that neither mother nor daughter has dated her 
 letter, and I will, therefore, tell you that this sheet has been 
 put into my hands to-day, the 30th of January, but too late 
 for the post.* .... I look upon it as an over-sanguine 
 expectation, even should you intend to finish your studies 
 here, that you "will be able to be here by Easter ; and I 
 intreat you not to neglect anything to effect this, however 
 pleasant it would be, but to follow up your course of studies 
 to the last. But that you may be here for our silver-wedding 
 on the 18th of May, that I consider more feasible, and if we 
 could then have you all together, as many as you are, that 
 would indeed be delightful. Immediately after Ave had sent 
 off our last letters, the Count f came here for a few days, and 
 seemed no less impatient than his son to see Hildegard bear 
 his name ; but, before the vacations, it will not be possible ; 
 and, for my part, I would rather it should be at the end of 
 the vacations than at the beginning ; but whether I shall be 
 able to carry the question is very dubious. That mother has 
 
 all hands full of work, you may suppose Hildis 
 
 is already strutting about with a beautiful little gold watch, 
 a quatre couleurs, presented to her by her future father-in- 
 law, during his stay here, and accompanied by some pretty 
 verses. Our Elsbeth has long been suffering, and has to-day 
 venturcd out, for the first time, to her sister, whose little 
 Siegfried is at present the general attraction and delight of 
 the whole family. By the time you arrive, he Avill probably 
 ha\-c developed his linguistic talent a little more, and also be 
 able to move with greater ease. At present, he begins to bo 
 able to stand Avhen he is held, and his speaking poAvers are 
 limited to a very doubtful " papa" and " mamma," and a few 
 monosyllabic articulations. I haA r e been forced to keep the 
 house these last three days, on account of a cough and hoarse- 
 
 * Probably the last letter that Schleierniacher ever wrote. 
 •(■ Count Schwerin, of Putzar. 
 
THE CLOSING SCENE. 335 
 
 sess, winch made it impossible for me to lecture. To-day I 
 was obliged to go out to christen a child, and I also attempted 
 to lecture for an hour, but it went off' very badly. From 
 to-morrow, however, I will commence again, as usual. And 
 now, my dear, God be with you. This letter will be sent to 
 the post to-morrow. 
 
 Thirteen days after the date of this letter, the 12th 
 February, 1834, Sehleiermaeher breathed his last. He 
 died of inflammation of the lungs. The subjoined 
 account of his last days and hours was drawn up for 
 their most intimate circle by his widow, who survived 
 him only six years : — 
 
 " For twelve days our beloved father had been suffer- 
 ing from a cough and great hoarseness, and though 
 bright and cheerful, he looked very pale. To our 
 anxious entreaties that he would be more careful of 
 his health, he always replied with the assurance that 
 he felt perfectly well, that what he was then suffering 
 under was a mere outward ailment, and that it did not 
 in the least interfere with his inward health. 
 
 " The evening of Thursday, 5th February, was the 
 last that was spent in cheerful tranquillity in the home 
 circle. In the night, the disease began with the most 
 fearful pains in every part of the body (he had had similar 
 symptoms the previous night, but they had passed off, 
 and he had not mentioned the fact), so that our dear 
 father said that he could not describe where the pain 
 was, but that every fibre of his body ached. His looks 
 were those of a dying person, and lie expressed his firm 
 belief that lie would not survive. I had sent inmie- 
 
336 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 diately for the doctor, who declared the case to be very 
 serious ; but the remedies applied by him relieved the 
 pains after a few hours, and the patient lay calm and 
 without suffering in his bed. 
 
 " On the Sunday there was a consultation of four 
 physicians. The inflammation increased rapidly on 
 this day, and in a few hours attained its highest degree. 
 The patient was twice bled in one day, and though the 
 doctors still gave hope, it was evident to those around 
 that they did not entertain any themselves. I did not 
 move from his bedside. The children and friends, who 
 waited on my bidding in the next room, brought me 
 everything I asked for. I required no other aid in 
 nursing him, and the utmost quiet had been recom- 
 mended. I obeyed the order so conscientiously, that 
 I did not cause him to speak even one dear word 
 to me. 
 
 " He often assured me that he did not suffer so much 
 as, perhaps, it appeared. During the whole of his 
 illness, his mind was calm, collected, and gentle; he 
 obeyed punctually every order of the doctor, never 
 uttered a complaint or a murmur, and was throughout 
 friendly and patient, though serious, and as if his 
 thoughts were turned inwardly. 
 
 " ( On the Monday morning, the physician, after ex- 
 amining his pulse and his features, announced the 
 approach of death. 
 
 " The following are a few of his last, precious words 
 that I have been able to retain. Once he called me to 
 his bedside, and said, c I am, in fact, in a state between 
 consciousness and unconsciousness (he had been taking 
 
TUE CLOSING SCENE. 337 
 
 opium, which caused him to doze frequently), but in- 
 wardly I enjoy heavenly moments. I feel constrained 
 to tliink the profoundest speculative thoughts, and they 
 are to me identical with the deepest religious feelings.' 
 Another time he raised his hand, and said, in a very 
 solemn tone, ' Here light a sacrificial flame.' Another 
 time, again, ' To the children I bequeath the saying 
 from St. John : " Love one another." ' Again : * The 
 dear children, what a blessing they are to us ! ' Again : 
 
 * I charge you to greet all my friends, and to tell them 
 how sincerely I have loved them.' ' How I rejoice at 
 the thought of our silver-wedding, and of Hildchen's 
 wedding ; I seem already to be enjoying the precious 
 days. I would willingly have remained longer with 
 you and the children ; ' and when I expressed a hope 
 that it might still be so, he said, ' Do not deceive your- 
 self, dear heart,' and then, with the deepest tenderness, 
 added, 'There is still much for you to endure.' He 
 asked to see the children ; but when I begged him to 
 avoid everything that could cause him emotion, he at 
 once submitted, and was content that one of them at a 
 time should come into the room to bring something. 
 He asked several times who was in the next room, and 
 when I named the dear friends, and told him that they 
 were engaged in silent prayer with the children, he 
 seemed pleased. 
 
 " The last morning his sufferings greatly increased. 
 He complained of excessive internal heat, and the first 
 and the last murmur escaped his lips in the words: 
 
 * Lord, I suffer much ! ' His features assumed entirely 
 the character of death, the death film spread over his 
 
 VOL. II. Z 
 
338 LIFE OF SCHLEIERMACHER. 
 
 eyes, the death struggle had been fought. He then 
 placed his two fingers on his eye, as was his habit 
 when reflecting deeply, and began to speak. 
 
 " ' I have never clung to the dead letter, and we have 
 the atoning death of Jesus Christ, his body and his 
 blood. I have ever believed, and still believe, that the 
 Lord Jesus gave the communion in w T ater and in wine.'* 
 
 " While saying this he raised himself up, his counte- 
 nance lighted up, his voice became clear and strong. 
 He then asked with priestly solemnity : ' Do you agree 
 with me in this belief, that the Lord Jesus consecrated the 
 water also that was in the wine ? ' to which we replied 
 with a loud yes ! e Then let us take the Communion : 
 the wine for you, the water for me,' he added solemnly ; 
 
 * but there is no time to fetch G ,f quick ! quick ! 
 
 Let no one take offence at the form.' The necessary 
 things having been brought in while we waited in 
 solemn silence, an expression of heavenly rapture spread 
 over his features, a strange lustre shone in his eyes, 
 a look of beaming love fell upon us all, and after a few 
 devout words of prayer, he commenced the holy cere- 
 mony. He first gave me the bread, then each of the 
 other persons present, and lastly himself, pronouncing 
 each time in a distinct voice, the words, 'Take eat,' &c. 
 So loud, indeed, was his voice, that the children, who 
 were kneeling at the door of the adjoining room, heard 
 him quite plainly. 
 
 * ne had been expressly forbidden to take wine, and it is a well- 
 known fact, that throughout antiquity the Jews never drank wine 
 except mixed with water. 
 
 t The clerk. 
 
THE CLOSING SCENE. 339 
 
 " In like manner he gave to each the wine with the 
 usual words ; then addressing himself likewise, he took 
 the water, and then said: f On these words of the 
 scripture I rely, they are the foundation of my faith.' 
 After he had pronounced the blessing, his eyes turned 
 once more to me w r ith a look full of love, and he said, 
 ' In this love and communion we are, and ever will 
 remain united.' He sank back on his pillow. The 
 expression of heavenly rapture still dwelt on his coun- 
 tenance. After some minutes he said — ' Now I can no 
 longer remain here ;' and in a little while he added — 
 ' Place me in another position.' We placed him on his 
 side. He breathed heavily several times, and life was 
 gone. In the meanwhile the children had come in 
 and were kneeling round his bed. His eyes closed 
 gradually." 
 
 THE END. 
 
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