Part 2
Whoever has allowed Fichte's manner of spirit to work upon him,
senses in all following time that he has taken something into
his soul that has still an other effect entirely than the
ideas and words of this thinker. These ideas and words
transform themselves in the soul. They become a power that is
essentially more than the remembrance of what was received
directly from Fichte. A power that has something of the quality
of living beings. It grows in the soul. And in it, the soul
feels a never dwindling means of strength. If one senses the
special quality of Fichte this way, one can never separate from
this sensation the mental representation of the inner essential
being-ness with which the German soul spoke through Fichte. How
one stands toward Fichte's world view does not matter here. It
is not the content, it is the power by which this world view is
created. That power is what one feels. Whoever wants to
follow Fichte as a thinker must enter into seemingly cold
regions of ideas. Into regions in which the power of thinking
must cast aside much that is otherwise dear to it, in order
merely to find it possible that a man can put himself into such
a relationship toward the world as Fichte had. But if one has
followed Fichte thus, then one feels how the power that held
sway in his thinking streamed into the life-giving words with
which, in a destiny-bearing time, he sought to enflame his
people to world-effective deed. The warmth in Fichte's
Speeches to the German Nation is one with the light that
shone for him in his energetic thought work. And the connection
of this light with this warmth appears in Fichte's personality
as that by which he is one of the most authentic embodiments of
German essential being. This German essential Being had first
to make Fichte into the thinker he was, before it could speak
through him the penetrating Speeches to the German
Nation. But after it had created such a thinker as Fichte,
this German essential Being could not speak otherwise to the
nation than happened in these speeches. Again it matters less
w h a t
Fichte said in these speeches than, rather,
h o w
German-ness, through them, placed itself before the
consciousness of the people. A thinker who in his world view is
far removed from Fichte's trains of thought, Robert Zimmermann,
must speak the words: “As long as in Germany a heart
beats that is able to feel the shame of foreign tyranny, the
memory of the courageous one will live on, who at the moment of
deepest humiliation, in the midst of French-occupied
Berlin, before the eyes and ears of the enemies, among
spies and informers, under took to raise the power of the
German people, broken from without by the sword, upright again
from within by the spirit, and at the same instant when the
political existence of this people seemed to be annihilated
forever, to create it anew, by the enthusiastic thought of
universal education, in future generations.”
One
need not have the aim of awakening sentimental feelings if, to
characterize the special quality of how Fichte is
connected with the deepest essential being of being
German, one portrays the last hours in the life of the thinker.
— Fichte's wife, the life companion who truly was not
only worthy of him, who fully measured up to his greatness, had
done hospital service for five months under the most difficult
conditions, and had thereby contracted lazaret fever. The wife
recovered. Fichte himself fell prey to the disease and
succumbed to it. His son described the manner of Fichte's
dying. The last report that the dying one received was that
delivered by the son, of Blucher's crossing of the Rhine, of
the advance of the allies against the French enemy. The soul
wresting itself from the thinker's body lived entirely in the
profound joy over these events; and as the formerly icy-sharp
thinking passed over in the dying one into fever fantasies, he
felt himself among the midst of the fighters. How the image of
the philosopher stands before the soul, who — right
over into the fever fantasies clouding the consciousness
— is like the Entity, revealing itself, of the will and
working of his people! And how in Fichte the German philosopher
is one with every stirring of life of the whole man. The son
hands the dying one a medicine. The dying one gently pushes
back what is proffered; he feels himself entirely one with the
world-historical working of his people. In such feeling he
concludes his life with the words: I need no medicine; I feel
that I have recovered. He had “recovered” in the
feeling of participating in his soul in the experience of the
elevation of the German essential Being.
From the upward glance to Fichte's personality, one is allowed
to draw the power to speak about German essential being. For
his striving was to make this essential being astir, as an
actively working power, right into the sources of his special
nature. And in the contemplation of his personality it comes
clearly to light that he felt his own work of spirit connected
with the deepest roots of the German essential being. These
roots themselves, though, he sought in the foundations of
the working of spirit which he beheld behind all of the world's
outer, sense-accessible functionings. He could not conceive of
German working with out a connection of this working with
the spirituality illuminating the world through and through and
warming it through and through. He saw the essential being of
German-ness in the welling forth of the life expressions of the
people from the primal source of the originally spiritually
alive. And what he himself understood as world view that issues
from this primal source in the sense of the German quality, he
spoke out about it thus: “It — this world view
— glimpses time and eternity and infinity, as they come
into being out of the appearing and becoming visible of
that One that is in itself simply invisible, and only in this
its invisibility is grasped, rightly grasped.” —
“All persistent existence appearing as not
spiritual life is but an empty shadow cast from seeing,
transmitted in multiple ways by nothingness, as opposed to
which, and by whose recognition as nothingness transmitted in
multiple ways, seeing itself is to rise to the recognizing of
its own nothingness, and to the acknowledgment of the invisible
as the only true being.”
In
his Speeches to the German Nation, Fichte seeks to grasp
all truly German life expressions this way, out the source of
spiritual life, and to receive out of this source the words
themselves with which he speaks of these life expressions.
— One will perhaps pause with special feelings at one
passage in these Speeches, if from their tone and bosom
depth, one has imbued oneself with the feeling
perception: how this man stands with his whole soul
within the viewing of the spiritual essential being of the
world! How this standing with his soul within the spiritual
world is for him such an immediate reality as for the outer man
the standing within the material world by means of the senses!
One may think how ever one does about the
characterization of his time as developed by Fichte in the
Speeches; if one hears of this characterization through
his words, it cannot matter whether one agrees with what is
said or not, but what a magical breath of human ethos one
feels. — Fichte talks of the age he would like to help to
bring about. He uses a simile. And this simile is where one is
held fast with one's feelings in the sense hinted at. He says:
“The age appears to me like an empty shade, who is
standing above its corpse, which a host of diseases has just
driven it out of, and lamenting, and is unable to tear its gaze
from the once so beloved sheath, and despairingly tries
all means of re-entering that housing-place of plagues. Though
the enlivening airs of the other world, into which the departed
has entered, have already received her, and surround her with
warm breath of love, though secret voices of her sisters are
already greeting her joyfully and welcoming her, though there
is already a stirring and an expanding in her inner being in
all directions, to develop the glorious shape to which she is
to grow: yet she has no feeling for these airs as yet, or
hearing for these voices, or if she had, she is consumed in
pain at her loss, with which she believes she has at the same
time lost herself.”
The
question is natural: how is the mood of a soul who, in a
contemplation of the age and the changing of the ages, is
driven to such a comparison? Fichte is talking here about the
existence of the human soul after its separation from the body
by death, the way a person otherwise talks about a material
process that plays itself out before his senses. To be
sure, Fichte is using a simile. And a simile must not be
exploited in such a way that one would like to prove something
by it about a significant view of the person who utters the
simile. But the simile points to a mental representation that
lives in the soul of the simile-maker with regard to an object
or process. Here, with regard to the experiences of the human
soul after death. Without wanting to claim anything about how
Fichte would have made a pronouncement about the validity of
such a mental representation if he had done so in the context
of his world view, one can never-the-less lead this
mental representation before one's soul. Fichte speaks of the
human soul as of a being so independent of the body that this
being separates from the bodily nature in death, and is able to
look consciously at the separated body the way the man in
the sense world looks at an object or process with his eyes.
Apart from this looking at the body which one has left, the new
environment which the soul enters when it has separated from
the body is hinted at too. That modern form of the science of
the spirit which talks about these things on the basis of
certain soul experiences is allowed to find something
significant in this Fichtean simile. What this science of the
spirit strives for is a recognition concerning the spiritual
worlds entirely in the sense of the type of recognition that is
acknowledged by modern natural science as justified concerning
the natural world. Though this form of spirit science is
presently still seen by many as a dreaming, as a wild flight of
fancy; yet so it also went for many people for a long time with
the view, contradicting the senses, of the orbit of the earth
around the sun. It is essential that this science of the spirit
has as its basis a real recognizability of the spiritual world.
A recognizability that rests not on concepts thought out, but
on experiences of the soul of man that are really to be
achieved. As he can know nothing of the properties of hydrogen
who knows only water, which has hydrogen in it, so he can know
nothing of the true being of the human soul who experiences the
soul only the way it is when it is in connection with the body.
Yet the science of the spirit leads to this: that the
spiritual-and-soul re leases itself for its own
perception from the physical-and-bodily, as by the
methods of the chemist hydrogen can be released from
water. Such a release of the soul happens not by false mystical
flights of fancy, but by rigorously healthy intensified
inner experiencing of certain soul faculties, which, though
always pre sent in every soul, remain unnoticed and
unconsidered in normal life and in nor mal science. By
such strengthening and enlivening of soul forces, the soul of
man can come to an inner experiencing in which it beholds a
spiritual world, as it beholds with the senses the material
world. It then knows itself to be indeed “outside of the
connection with the body” and equipped with what —
to use Goethean expressions — one can call “eyes of
spirit” and “ears of spirit.” Spirit science
talks of these things not at all in a pseudo-mystical sense,
but in such a way that for it, the progression from the usual
view of the sense world to the viewing of the spiritual world
becomes a definite process inherent in the essential
being of the nature of man, which to be sure one must call
forth by one's own inner experiencing, by a definitely directed
self-activation of the soul. But with respect to this too, the
science of the spirit is allowed to feel itself in unison with
Fichte. When in 1813 in autumn he delivered his Doctrine
before listeners as ripe fruit of his spirit striving, he spoke
the following as introduction: “This doctrine presupposes
a completely new inner sense instrument, by which a new world
is given that for the ordinary person does not exist at
all.” Fichte does not at all mean by this an
“organ” that exists only for “chosen,”
not for “ordinary people,” but an
“organ” that anyone can acquire, but which for
man's ordinary recognizing and perceiving does not come
to consciousness. With such an “organ,” man is now
really in a spiritual world, and is able to speak about life in
this world as by his senses about material processes. For
anyone who puts himself into this position, it becomes natural
to speak about the life of the soul the way it is done in the
Fichtean simile quoted. Fichte makes the comparison not out of
a general belief, but by a standing within the spiritual world
that has been
e x p e r i e n c e d .
One must sense in
Fichte a personality that in every stirring of life
consciously feels itself one with the holding sway of a
spiritual world, and beholds itself standing within this world
as the man of the senses does in the material world. Now, that
this is the mood of soul that he has the German basic tenor of
his world view to thank for, Fichte distinctly states. He says:
“The true philosophy
that has come to an end within
itself, and has truly penetrated beyond appearance to its
core, ... proceeds from the one, pure, divine life — as
life outright, which remains that for all eternity, and in
eternity always remains one, but not as from this or that life;
and it sees how merely in the appearance this life closes and
again opens, endlessly on, and only in consequence of this law
comes to an existence, and to a Something at all. For it,
existence comes about, which the other (here Fichte means
un-German philosophy) takes as given in advance. And so this
philosophy (Fichte means the one he professes) is in the quite
proper sense only German, that is, original; and conversely,
were someone but to be come a true German, he would not
be able to philosophize otherwise than thus.”
It
would be wrong to quote these words of Fichte's in
characterization of his soul mood without at the same time
calling to mind the others that he spoke in the same context of
the speech: “Anybody who believes in
spiritual-intellectual activity, and freeness of this
spiritual-intellectual activity, and wants the eternal further
education of this spiritual-intellectual activity by freeness,
he, wherever he was born, and whatever language he speaks, is
of our lineage, he belongs to us, and he will join us.”
— In the time when Fichte saw German nationality
threatened by western foreign rule, he felt the necessity of
declaring that he sensed the essential-being quality of his
world view as a gift extended to him as if by the German Folk
Spirit. And he unreservedly brought it to expression that this
sensation had led him to the recognition of the tasks he was
allowed to accord the German Folk within the evolution of
humanity, in the sense that from the recognition of these tasks
the German may derive his right and his vocation to all that he
intends and fulfills in the context of peoples. That he may
seek in this recognition the source from which there flows to
him the power to get involved in this evolution as a
German with all that he has and is.
Whoever in the present time has taken up Fichte's soul mood
into the life of his own soul, will find in the world view of
this thinker a power which does not let him remain at this
world view. Which leads him, in his striving for
spiritual-intellectual activity, to a viewpoint that
shows the connections of man with the world differently from
how Fichte presented them. He will be able to gain by Fichte
the ability to see the world differently from how Fichte saw
it. And he will sense just this manner of striving in a
Fichtean way as a profound relation ship with this
thinker. Such a one will also certainly not reckon among the
ideals which he would like to stand up for unconditionally the
plan of education that Fichte in his Speeches to the German
Nation characterized as the one that appeared salutary to
him. And so it is with much that Fichte wanted to advance as
content of his views. But the soul mood that from him
communicates itself to the soul that can meet with him works
like a spring still flowing in the present in full freshness.
His world view strives for the strongest exertion of the powers
of thought that the soul can find in itself, in order to
discover in man what shows man's being as “higher
man” in man in connection with the spirit foundation of
that world which lies beyond all sense experience. Certainly
that is the way of every striving for a world view that does
not want to see in the sense world itself the basis of all
being. But Fichte's special quality lies in the power he wants
to give to thought out of the depths of the essential being of
man. So that this thought find by itself the firmness that
lends it weight in the spiritual world. A weight that maintains
it in the regions of soul life, and in which the soul can feel
the eternity of her experiencing, yes, so create this eternity
by willing it that this willing is allowed to know itself to be
connected with the eternal spirit life.
Thus does Fichte strive for “pure humanity” in his
world view. In this striving he is allowed to know himself to
be at one with all that is human, wherever and however it
ever makes its appearance on the earth. And in a time heavy
with destiny, Fichte uttered the word: “Were someone but
to become a true German, he could not philosophize other than
thus.” And through all that he says in the Speeches to
the German Nation, the extension of this thought sounds
through like a foundation tone: If only someone is a true
German, he will out of his German-ness find the path upon which
an understanding of all human reality can ripen. For it is not
that Fichte thinks he is allowed to see only the world view in
the light of this thought. Because he is a thinker, he gives as
an example what kind of thinker he by his German-ness had to
become. But he is of the opinion that this fundamental
essential being of German-ness must speak itself out in every
German, wherever he has his place in life.
The
passion of the war wants to deny Germans the right to speak
about the German element the way Fichte did. From the countries
living at war with the Germans, personalities who occupy a high
position in the spiritual life of these countries also speak
out of this passion. Philosophers use the power of their
thinking to corroborate — in unison with the opinion of
the day — the judgment that the German ethnic element
itself has estranged itself from that willing that lived in
personalities of Fichte's quality, and has fallen prey to what
is designated with the now popular word
“barbarism.” And if the German voices the thought
that this ethnic element did after all produce people of that
quality, then probably the utterance of such a thought will be
designated as most superfluous. For one would probably like to
reply that all of that is not what is being talked about. That
one knows how to honor it that the Germans have had Goethe,
Fichte, Schiller, etc. in their midst; but that their spirit
does not speak out of what the Germans are bringing about in
the present. And so the passionate critics of the German
essential being will probably even manage to find the words:
out of the dreamy quality of the Germans — which we have
always evaluated correctly — why shouldn't dreamers still
turn up today as well who, in response to the words with which
we meet what the German weapons do to us, answer with a
characterization of the German essential being given them by
their Fichte in a past that is lost to them; which
characterization he himself would probably change, though, if
he saw how the German manner is today.
There will come times that will acquire a calm judgment about
whether the condemnation of German willing spoken out of
passion does not correspond to blind inebriation, equivalent in
its reality-value with a dream, and whether next to that, the
“dreaming” that still speaks about present German
willing in Fichte's manner does not perhaps signify that waking
state which does not insert between itself and the events
the passions, hostile to reality, which lull judgment to
sleep.
Working out of no other spirit than that in whose name Fichte
spoke can the willing appear to the German which the German
people must develop in the fight forced upon it by the enemies
of Germany. As if in a far-spread fortress, the opponents hold
the body enclosed which is the expression of what Fichte
characterized as the German Spirit. That Spirit which the
German warrior feels himself as a fighter for, whether he does
this in conscious recognition of this Spirit, or takes his
stand in the battle out of the subconscious powers of his
soul.
“Who wanted this war?” so ran a question posed to
the Germans by many opponents, which presupposed, as
self-evident answer, that the Germans wanted it. Yet to such a
question, not passion may reply. Also not the judgment that
wants to draw conclusions only from the facts that preceded the
war in the very most recent time. What happened in this very
most recent time is rooted deeply in the currents of European
will impulses. And an answer to the above question can be
sought only in the impulses that have long been set against the
German element.
Here only such impulses are to be pointed to as are so well
known, in their general essence, that it can seem fully
superfluous to speak about them when one wants to say something
about the causes of the coming about of the present war. There
are, however, two points of view from which the seemingly
superfluous can appear desirable after all. The one results
when one considers that in the forming of a judgment about
important facts, what matters cannot be solely that one knows
something, but from what bases one forms one's judgment.
One is led to the second point of view when, in the
contemplation of im pulses of peoples, one wants to
recognize in what manner they are rooted in the life of the
peoples. From the insight into this manner, there results a
feeling perception about the strength with which these
impulses live on in time, and take effect at the moment that is
favorable to them.
Ernest Renan is one of the leading spirits of France in the
second half of the Nineteenth Century. This author of a Life
of Jesus and of the Apostles wrote in an open letter
during the war in the year 1870 to the German author of a
Life of Jesus, David Friedrich Strauss: “I was at
the Seminaire St. Sulpice, around the year 1843, when I began
to get to know Germany through the writings of Goethe and
Herder. I believed I was entering a temple, and from that
moment on, all that until then I had held to be a splendor
worthy of the Godhead only made upon me the impression of
wilted and yellowed paper flowers.” Further the
French man writes in the same letter: “in
Germany” there has “for a century come about one of
the most beautiful spiritual developments known to history, a
development which, if I may venture the expression, has
added a level of depth and ex tension to the human
spirit, so that whoever has remained untouched by this new
development is to him who has gone through it as one who knows
only elementary mathematics is to him who is experienced in
differential calculus.” And this leading Frenchman brings
clearly to expression in the same letter what this Germany,
before whose life of spirit “all that until then”
he “had held to be a splendor worthy of the Godhead only
made upon” him “the impression of wilted and
yellowed paper flowers,” would have to expect from the
French if it did not conclude the war of then with a peace
agreeable to Renan's fellow countrymen. He writes:
“The hour is solemn. There are in France two currents of
opinion. The ones judge thus: Let us make an end to this hated
business as quickly as possible; let us give away everything,
Alsace, Lorraine; let us sign the peace accord; but then,
hatred unto death, preparations without rest, alliance with
anyone convenient, unlimited permissiveness toward all Russian
overreachings; one single goal, one single driving force for
life: the struggle of obliteration against the German race.
Others say: Let us save France's integrity, let us develop the
constitutional institutions, let us make good our mistakes, not
by dreaming of revenge for a war in which we were the unjust
attackers, but by concluding a treaty with Germany and England
whose effect will be to lead the world further on the path of
free civilized morality.” Renan himself calls
attention to this: that France was the unjust attacker in
the war of then. And so it is not necessary to put forward the
easily demonstrable historical fact that Germany had to wage
that war to put in its bounds the constant disturber of its
work. Now, one can disregard to what extent Germany was
striving for Alsace-Lorraine as a region of related ethnic
stocks; one need only emphasize the necessity which
Germany was put into by this: that it could only get itself
some calm at the hands of the French if with the
Alsace-Lorraine region it took away from its neighbor the
possibility of disturbing this calm so easily in the future as
had often happened in the past. But thereby a brake was put on
the second current in France spoken of by Renan; not this one
had prospects for its goal of “leading the world further
on the path of free civilized morality,” but the other,
whose “single goal, single driving force,” for life
was: “the struggle of obliteration against the German
race.” There were men who in some of what has happened
since the War of 1870 believed they recognized signs that a
bridging of the conflicts was possible on a peaceful
path. In the course of the last years many voices that sounded
in this tone could be heard. Yet the impulse directed against
the German people lived on, and there remained alive the
driving force: “alliance with anyone convenient,
unlimited permissiveness toward all Russian overreachings; ...
the struggle of obliteration against the German race.”
Out of the same spirit, sounds are issuing again at present
through quite a few of the leading minds of France. Renan
continues his contemplation about the two previously
portrayed currents in the French people with the words:
“Germany will decide whether France will choose this
political strategy or that one; it will thereby decide at the
same time about the future of civilized morality.” One
must really first convert this sentence into the German meaning
to appraise it rightly. It means: France has proven to be an
unjust attacker in the war; in the event that Germany, after a
victory over France, does not conclude a peace that leaves
France unimpededly in the position to become such an unjust
attacker again as soon as it pleases, then Germany is deciding
against the civilized morality of the future. What is
decided, out of such an understanding, concerning “hatred
unto death, preparations without rest, alliance with anyone
convenient, unlimited permissiveness toward all Russian
overreachings,” what is decided concerning the
“single driving force for life: the struggle of
obliteration against the German race,”
t h a t
and nothing else provides the basis for an answer to the question:
“Who wanted this war?”
As
to whether the “alliance” will be found, there too,
men capable of taking a look at the impulses directed
against Germany were already giving an answer back when
Renan spoke out in the sense characterized. A man who seeks a
look forward from the then present into the future of Europe,
Carl Vogt, writes during the War of 1870: “It is possible
that even if its territory is left intact, France will take
advantage of the opportunity to whet the nicked blade sharp
again; it is probable that with no annexation, it will have
more than enough to do with its own internal affairs, and will
consider a renewed war all the less, since a powerful current
of peace must take hold in the hearts and minds; it is certain
that it will set aside all scruples should an annexation take
place. Which wager then should the statesman choose?”
— It is easy to see that the answer to this question
depends also upon one's view about the coming European
conflicts. By itself, France will not dare, even in the
longer term, to brave the fight against Germany anew, the blows
have been too heavy and thorough for that, — but as soon
as another enemy arises, it will be able to put to itself the
question whether it is in a position to join in, and on whose
side. — As far as I'm concerned, I am not in doubt
for a moment that a conflict between the Germanic and the
Slavic world is approaching and that in it, Russia will take
over the leadership on the one side. This power is preparing
even now for this eventuality; the national Russian press
spits fire and flames against Germany. The German press is
already letting its calls of warning resound. A long time has
passed since Russia collected itself after the Crimean War, and
as it seems, it is now found advisable in Petersburg to take up
the Oriental question once again ... If the Mediterranean is
someday supposed to become, according to the more pompous than
true expression, a “French lake,” Russia has the at
least much more positive aim of making the Black Sea a Russian
lake, and the Sea of Marmara a Russian pond. That
Constantinople .... needs to become a Russian city, is an
established goal of “the Russian policy,” which
finds its “supporting lever” in
“Pan-Slavism.” (Carl Vogt's Political
Letters, Biel 1870.) To this judgment of Carl Vogt's
about what he foresees for Europe, there could be added those
of not a few other personalities, gleaned from the
contemplation of European directions of willing. They
would make what is to be indicated here more vividly insistent,
and yet speak of the same fact: that already in 1870 an
observer of these directions of willing had to point to the
East of Europe if he wanted to answer for himself the question:
Who will want to wage a war against Middle Europe sooner or
later? And his gaze had to fall upon France when he asked: who
will want to wage this war together with Russia against
Germany? Vogt's voice comes especially into consideration
because in the letter in which he so speaks, he says some
unfriendly things to Germany. He can truly not be accused of
bias in favor of Germany. But his words are proof that the
question: who will want this war? had long been answered by the facts
b e f o r e
those causes were at work
which Germany's opponents would so like to hear as an answer when
they raise the question: Who wanted this war? That it took more
than forty years from then to the outbreak of the war, is not
thanks to France.
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