Novalis the Disciples at Sais and Other Fragments

7/29/2019 Novalis the Disciples at Sais and Other Fragments

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THE DISCIPLES AT SAISAND OTHER FRAGMENTS


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THE DISCIPLES AT SAISAND OTHER FRAGMENTS

BYNOVALIS

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BYF. V. M. T. and U. C. B.WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY

UNA BIRCH

METHUEN & CO.36 ESSEX STREET W.C.

LONDON1903


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CONTENTSPACE

Preface ..... 3Friederich von Hardenberg : the Man . 13Novalis : the Author . . .34Selections from the Works of Novalis

Spiritual Hymns . . -53Thoughts on Philosophy, Love and

Religion . . . .68The Disciples at Sais . . 91Flower Pollen . . .144

Bibliography . . . .174Index . . . . .175


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PREFACETN the last years of the eighteenth century

between two and three thousand studentsworked and fought and made love at Jena, asthe manner of students is. As an apple enclosesa core, so did this large academic circle enclosean inner ring of men who had taken it uponthemselves to reform thought and taste inGermany, and these men possessed by the ideaof Unity, whose passion, whose dream, andwhose ideal was the realisation of the Unityof the Universe, were called by the worldRomantics. They lived among the studentsand yet were not of them, existing in afairy world of their own apart from life's uglyrealities, lotus eaters feeding on flowers ofpoetry, art, music and philosophy, and dis-tributing to the outside world, as a result oftheir eclectic culture, a new criticism, a newaesthetic and a new philosophy of life. Thevery air in the streets of Jena was chargedby them with an idealistic intellectualism, andthe town seems to have become for a few


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4 PREFACEyears a Parnassus of Romance, and the meeting-ground for all spirits touched by the mysticyearning. The more important of the would-be reformers were Novalis, Schelling, Schleier-macher, the two Schlegels, Tieck and Wacken-roder ; with these were associated Caroline,the wife of A. W. Schlegel, and DorotheaVeit, a Jewess. Fichte, who had no greatsympathy with Romanticism, even during thetime he lived at Jena, greatly influenced itsapostles, and determined most of their thought.Schiller, through his afFection for Novalis, cameinto contact with the movement, but he, likeGoethe, disapproved of its tendency towardsobscurantism. His friend Novalis would seemto have been the typical Romanticist, possessingas he did a genius for unification, a passion forreligion, a highly poetic imagination and energywithout will. Typical, too, in so far that hismature life began and ended with the move-ment, typical in that his outer life did not cor-respond with his thought, and typical becausehis writings embodied the highest aspiration ofthe movement.He and his Romantic friends wrote and readand translated and talked and did everythingbut act ; they were still vague as to theirultimate goal. "Christianity is the order ofthe daythe men are rather mad. ... I


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THE ROMANTICS AT JENA 5wager they do not understand themselves oreach other," wrote Dorothea Veit, commentingon the prevailing uncertainty. Catholicism,antique symbolic art, mediaeval romance, strangelegends and Indian Sagaseverything thatseemed to offer by its mystery an outlet for thesoul attracted them. A desire for freedom inlove, freedom from social restrictions, annihilationof limitations, all parts of the desire for unity,led them, uncorrected by action, to a species ofmystic voluptuousness which proved the de-struction of their circle.The town of Jena is not many miles from

Weimar, and at this time Goethe and Schillerwere fast friends, and their opinion of theRomantics is to be seen in the letters theyexchanged. Goethe laughs at them half-scornfully and straightforward Schiller isvexed at their posturing. The former wasso greatly admired by the inner ring that thelatter was in danger of being undervalued.

Goethe occasionally came to Jena to visitSchiller, but generally when the Romanticswished to see the object of their devotionthey pilgrimaged along the avenue of plumtrees that led to Weimar and there offeredhim the incense of their adulation. " Frederickthe divine," writes Dorothea Veit of F.Schlegel one day, " went this morning to


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6 PREFACEsee Father Goethe or God the Father atWeimar !

Goethe was not long destined to be theRomantics' god ; as they became ever moreCatholic in tendency their attitude towards thegreat Pagan gradually changed. Not that theydoubted his art, but they were religionists andhe was not. Their apprehension of the worlddiffered from his, and moreover they said thatthey did not desire to see poetry subordinated toeconomy. Novalis probably voiced the Roman-tic's opinion when he said, " Goethe is altogethera practical poet, he is in his work what theEnglish are in their wares : highly simple, neat,convenient and durable, he has done for GermanLiterature what Wedgewood did for Englishmanufacture." Their adoration turned to anopposition which was confirmed when Goethepublished a statement of his disapproval of theRomantic School.

All the Romantics philosophised about life,and yet Philosophy seemed to be the one thingthese new philosophers needed, for their geniuswas rather to feel than to think, to perceive byintuition rather than by reason. Fichte, how-ever, supplied them with a philosophic system,which they adopted, though it is open to questionwhether they ever apprehended it according tothe intention of the Master.


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THE ROMANTICS AT JENA 7In 1794 F'cnte had published his " Doctrine

of Knowledge " ; at first he laid claim to nooriginality, but only sought to explain Kant,and infuse into his philosophy a little emotionalwarmth that should make him more acceptableto the general public. The austere young pro-fessor seems to have been misunderstood allhis life, and it is doubtful whether anyone ofhis own time grasped the central point of hisdoctrine ; the catch-word, " the Ego makes theworld," seems to have been the only aspectthat was seized on and bandied about. TheRomantics in their worship of the imaginationtook the thought of a world-creating ego as thefoundation of their philosophy, for was not theidea, as they apprehended it, an enthronementof the creative imagination ?

Fichte posited that the Ego limited by thenon-Ego, and the non-Ego limited by the Ego,were reconciled as Holy Will, and explains theworld as the act of the free yet at the sametime limited Ego or Holy Willas the Incon-ceivable assuming consciousness or the conditionof Existence. The very condition of Existenceis separation from GodGod throwing off theworld of consciousness that it may yield itself toHim. This supposes two spheresBeing andExistence, or Reality and Appearance, beyondwhich the mind of man cannot pass, but these


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8 PREFACEtwo spheres united form the Absolute Ego," a God of whose nature the ultimate fact isLove."The Romantics seized on the phrase, " the

Ego makes the world," taking it not as theAbsolute Ego, the Divine, but as a thinkinghuman being, thus making the philosophy ofFichte into a method for establishing theautocracy of the imagination. Novalis wentso far as to suggest that the world was but aprecipitation of human nature, and the gods buta sublimation of the same.

In 1796 Fichtism was supposed to be pro-gressive Kantism, but in Fichte, Schelling,Schleiermacher, and all the philosophers touchedby the Romantic Movement, there was a certainemotional strain of the sort so much distrustedby the unemotional Kant, and it was not un-natural that after a little while the Kantians andthe self-styled progressive Kantians should splitinto rival camps. The disciples of Kant becamediscontented with the results of Fichte's workas developing Kantism towards a completenessforeign to Kant's original notion.

Gradually the two masters disagreed, and in1799 Kant published a formal disclaimer deny-ing any connection between his system and thatof Fichte, and resenting the description of hiscritical work, as " mere propaedeutic to a system


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THE ROMANTICS AT JENA 9of reasoned philosophy." Kant's disclaimer didnot weaken the allegiance of the Romantics, andFichte carried with him Reinhold, Schelling,Jacobi, F. Schlegel, Tieck and Novalis.

Fichte was the strong man of the Romanticcircle. Exhaling independence, strength andpurity, he was the one thinker in a world of" feelers," and to some extent he kept the circletogether, and soon after he disappeared fromJena the Romantics dispersed. The ring offriendship was broken, and Steffens, whoearlier had said of Romanticism, " What is itbut a yearning after the Eternal that irre-sistibly drives us forward and breaks downevery self-erected limitation ? " is able but ashort time after to write as follows to Tieck"Certain as it is that the time in which Goethe,Fichte, Schelling, the Schlegels, thou, NovalisRichter, and I dreamt in unison was rich inseeds of all kinds, yet there was somethingpointless about it all. A spiritual tower ofBabel was to be erected to which all spiritsshould come from afar. But the confusion ofspeech buried this ambitious work in its owndebris. Are you he with whom I thoughtmyself one ? ' each asked of the other. ' I nolonger know the fashion of your face, yourwords are incomprehensible to me,' and eachseparated to the opposite parts of the Earth,


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io PREFACEmost of them to erect, out of madness, a towerof Babel of their own ! "Thus the friends separated. F. Schlegel went

to Vienna with Dorothea Veit whom he hadmarried, where " he attended Mass daily, andeat boiled fowl!" 1 His brother "withdrewinto the Pagoda of Brahma," x and became thecompanion of Mme. de Stael. Heine met himyears afterwards in Paris, a pathetic, shrunkenlittle figure dressed in the fashion of the yearin which his illustrious patroness died. Schelling,Caroline Schlegel and Schleiermacher and Fichteworked out their destinies in Berlin, and Novalisdied. The movement practically ended withthe century, the throbbing desire for Unity,which had pulsed in the veins of each Romanticbecame quiet, and except in the writings ofNovalis, their chief yearning and their mostimportant dream remained unrealised. As amovement it is more interesting historically thanintellectually, for it was the inevitable revoltof the imagination that had been so long con-fined in the prison-house of Voltairean thought;it was Psyche emerging from the grave to whichReason had consigned her. As a movement itaccomplished little ; its ideals were too vague,and the struggle to restore the old balancebetween Reason and Imagination seems more

1 " Die Romantische Schule " (Heine).


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THE ROMANTICS AT JENA 1like the instinctive working of some blind forcethan the conscious and purposeful strivings ofindividual intellects.

Speaking broadly, Romanticism was theRevolt of the Imagination, but it was also,in its return to Gothic standards of taste, thereaction from the pseudo-classicism that had solong prevailed, and however unsuccessful itsgospel may appear, however inappreciable thepersonal influence of each Romantic, yet thegarland of Jena friendships was destinedthrough its literature to influence not onlythe German sentiment of that day, but the senti-ment of future generations.


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FRIEDERICH VON HARDENBERGTHE MAN

TN a letter to Kreisammtmann Just, Friederichvon Hardenberg wrote, " authorship is a

secondary thing, you can judge me moreequitably by the chief thing practical life."These words, instead of being penned in allseriousness by a maladive youth of twenty-five, might have been written by some illustriousgeneral who, in the interval of conqueringcontinents, had thrown off a book of versesor a novel. Friederich von Hardenberg wasa frail figure dragging about a great soul, andthe practical life of which he makes mentionwas emphatically the least essential part of him.Its sphere of action was a province of Germany,its events were short journeyings to and fro onmatters of education or business ; its culmina-tion a small Government appointment. Judgedas a man, he was as unimportant as Werther orObermann, and except in the Mutual AdmirationSociety of the Romantics, he was during his


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14FRIEDERICH VON HARDENBERGlife - time unknown. He won a measure offame after death not because of his practicallife which resembled that of a thousand othermen, but because of his soul life which isboth arresting and unique. Friederich vonHardenberg, for whom the Assessorship ofthe Weissenfels Salt Mines was outlet enough,is indeed another individual to Novalis, thespiritual king, for whom the world was toocabined a province. Therefore it is only pos-sible to get an idea of the man as he existed bylooking at him from both the outer and innerpoints of view.

Friederich von Hardenberg was born in 1 772at an old convent at Wiederstedt that had beenacquired by the von Hardenbergs during theThirty Years' War. The atmosphere of hishome was unusually sombre, and from thefirst he was subjected, not only through hisparents but through his surroundings, to re-ligious and supernatural influences. The placewas said to be haunted, for the bride of someancestor had been killed by lightning asshe was about to enter the house, and strangesounds were sometimes heard. Intercourse withthe outer world was shut out, and rarely didany stranger arrive by the avenue of ancienttrees that led to the von Hardenbergs' home,or any new-comer's voice break in on the con-


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THE MAN 15ventual monotony of their life. Down theechoing passages and wide stairs of the longbuilding Friederich and the other childrenquietly played, for neither noise nor amuse-ment were approved by their father. Freiherrvon Hardenberg kept stern rule in his ownhouse ; he had led a wild life as a soldier andman of affairs, and had come to pause on thedeath of his first wife. Shocked at the stateof his soul, he turned very earnestly to re-ligion, studied Doddridge, and made a writtencovenant with God every time he went to theLord's Supper. He conquered himself, becamea severe, self-contained man and found peace inthe Moravian fold. During an epidemic of thefalling-sickness, of which illness his wife haddied, when everyone else held aloof, he wentfearlessly into the houses of the stricken to helpand to console. At thirty-two he married anorphan who had found shelter with his mother.She worshipped him, served him devotedly,and bore him eleven children. His childrenstood in awe of him, and there was little or nosympathy in after years between the sternPuritan father and his emotional poetic sonFriederich. It would have been unnatural indeedif the hardy old soldier, with his strict moralcode, should have understood either the con-sumptive and undisciplined genius or the


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1 6 FRIEDERICH VON HARDENBERGromantic morality of the youth. A story thatis told of him is hardly surprising ; somewhile after Friederich's death he went to aMoravian chapel, and being much moved bysome unknown hymns of singular beauty, heasked by whom they were and the answer was" by your own son."

Friederich was the second of the eleven chil-dren and up to the age of ten was stupider thanthe others, but an illness suddenly brought hisfaculties into play, thenceforward he developedrapidly and found food to satisfy his new andstartling appetite for knowledge in the libraryof his uncle in Brunswick with whom he spenta good part of his boyhood. At sixteen hewent to the Gymnasium at Eisleben, where hetook a first class and in 1 791 he went to Jenato study Law.

At Jena he came in contact with the firststrong influence of his life, Schiller, who wasat that time a professor at the University.Young Hardenberg wrote home enchanted atmeeting the embodiment of his youthful ideals :" I know him, he is my friend, his look cast meto the dust and raised me up again." In his heroworship he forgot Jurisprudence and followingthe great " Inspirer of Youth " diligently pursuedthe poet life. He broke out of the Moravianfold in which his childish years had been spent


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THE MAN 17and took up moral idealism, for philosophy wasin the air and was not Schiller himself overcomeby the influence of Kantian thought ? Harden-berg raved about the ethical ideal and moralisedin his letters to his mother, " Patience must bethe lot of each educator of youth, of eachmother, for without it what would become ofus whom the slightest puff of wind shatters andsways to our foundations ? " He finishes with aquotation to the effect that all great men haveto thank their mothers. His new-found free-dom and emancipation from moral restraint ledhim to entangle himself in gallant adventures,intrigues and duels, which doings highly dis-pleased his father, who straightway desired toremove him from such evil company. Schillerin his affection for the boy offered to conducthim back into the paths of law from which hehad himself lured him, but in spite of the poet'soffer Friederich and his brother Erasmus werehurried off to Leipzig and there he began afriendship with F. Schlegel.

Friederich SchlegePs letters of this date givean interesting picture of young Hardenberg ashe came into his life " talking three times moreand three times faster than others," declaringin fiery speech that there was no evil in theworld and that all things were once again ap-proaching the golden age. "Such hilarious


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18 FRIEDERICH VON HARDENBERGyouth," writes Schlegel, "I never saw; hedoes not go for the true but for the beauti-ful ... his favourite books are Plato andHemsterhuys ... he may become every-thing . . . but again he may become noth-ing." Hardenberg excited both the affectionand the admiration of Schlegel, but the friend-ship that had begun so brightly was for awhile dimmed as the younger nr.n became con-ceited and required flattery, and in a petulantmood Schlegel writes, " I saw plainly that hewas not capable of friendship and that there wasnaught in his soul but self-interest and phan-tasy ... in vain I hoped to illuminate theweakness of his heartit will ever be thus,he will always play with beautiful talents as achild with cards. I said to him at last yousee the world double, on the one hand like agood little man of fifteen and on the other like ane'er do weel of thirty ! " Schlegel's simile waswonderfully felicitous for Hardenberg playedwith his beautiful talents all his life and like awayward child with cards he scarcely finishedany game that he began.

F. Schlegel was at this time going throughthe disquieting process of trying to find himself.Hardenberg did not in the least share his senti-ment of world-weariness, hence the temporarywant of sympathy between them. Schlegel was


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THE MAN 19emptying the treasures of his mind before Har-denberg, and Hardenberg was lazy and indiffer-ent ; moreover he was seeing life, and some direfolly he must have tumbled into, for Schlegelsays in a letter, " I am dreadfully sorry aboutpoor Hardenberg, he has a stain on his honourand ... he has behaved childishly about it."Hardenberg about this time wrote to his fatherpleading to be allowed to become a soldier," as he needs discipline " and the unromanticduties of everyday life to consolidate his un-stable nature ; he continues, " I have an indiffer-ence to life which will seem paradoxical. I amconvinced that many other losses are far moregrievous. Life is not a goal, only a meansand when one passes from this planet one leaveslittle behind that one can regret." His militaryambitions faded away after his father's consenthad been secured, and just then Erasmus becameill. Friederich, who till then had experiencedno intimate griefs, writes him a note of coldcomfort: "Dear Brother, when one begins tolong for illness and death, and is not evenfrightened of Madness then it becomesserious." Such words could not have been ofmuch avail to Erasmus in his struggle againstthe disease which so soon cut short his life,though Friederich himself always seemed tofind consolation in vapoury philosophising, and


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20 FRIEDERTCH VON HARDENBERGto be able to endure so long as he couldtheorise.He went in 1793 to Wittenberg, a drowsy

university town, no longer thrilling with life ororiginal thoughtanother place, indeed, fromthat in which Melancthon had once been Greekprofessor and had discussed with Luther plans ofReformation. The town was so quiet and freefrom distraction that Hardenberg was able towork and pass his examination in Jurisprudence ayear later, but it was only from a sense of dutythat he did so, for the Law did not attract him,the mutiny of youth was bubbling in his veins,a great yearning for real life possessed him, andhe returned to his home at Weissenfels, wheretogether with his brothers he gave himselfup to pleasure, and involved himself in manyescapades. He was sent after a while by hisfather to work with Kreisammtmann Just atTennstadt. Just wrote a slight account of hisintercourse with the youth, evidently dazzledby his facile brilliancy. He says : " I waschosen to be his teacher, but in reality he wasmy teacher ... he never rested satisfied withany half-knowledge . . . was never superficialbut completely thorough in his work. . . . Hewould read a book in quarter of the time re-quired by others, and would be able to discussits points months afterwards."


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THE MAN 11On the 17th of November 1794, Hardenberg

rode out on business to Griiningen, a few milesfrom Tennstadt, and on that day began theromance of his lifea love story which hasbeen compared to that of Dante and Beatrice.One quarter of an hour inside the old castle ofthe von Kiihns decided his fate ; he had metSophie, a fair child with black eyes, of barelythirteen years, and he rode away from the goldencastle a victim of passionless love. The storyis mediaeval in its simplicity and directness ; heand his brothers go again and again to Griin-ingen ; it is a Paradise on earth. Erasmus goesso far as to say that from brothers they maybecome brothers-in-law, for there is also Caro-line, her sister. Just, whose discrimination maybe doubted, says that Sophie possessed " thejudgment of a grown-up person, joined to theattraction of youth, beauty, wit and excellence."

Friederich describes the girl in his note-bookas follows :

KLARISSE{Sketch of Sophie von Kiihn, atat. 1 3)

Her early maturity. She wishes to pleaseeveryone. Her obedience to, and fear of, herfather. Her modesty and her blameless fidelity.Her stiffness and her flattery of people whom


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22 FRIEDERICH VON HARDENBERGshe appreciates or whom she fears. Her be-haviour in illness. Her whims. What doesshe care to talk about ? Kindness towardsstrangers. Benevolence. Her clinging tochildish games. Dependence on women. Herjudgments disposition. Dress. Dancing.Business in the house. Love for her sisters.Musical ear. Her favourites. Taste. Piety.Enjoyment of life. Is she fond of reading ?Fondness for women's work. She does not desireto be anythingshe is something. Her face, herfigure, her life, her health. Her movements,her speech, her hand. She does not care forpoetry. Her behaviour to others to me.Frankness. She does not seem to have arrivedyet at independent reflection. I also arrived atthat point at a particular period. With whomhas she conversed all her life ? Where has shebeen ? What does she like to eat ? Her be-haviour to me. Her awe of marriage. I mustquestion her about her peculiaritiesalso herbrother. Her manner of enjoying herselfofbeing grieved. What pleases her most in theway of men and things ? Is her temperamentaroused ? . . . Her tobacco-smoking. Herdependence on her mother as a child. Heraudacity to her father. Her confirmation. . . .Her terror of ghosts. Her hospitality. . . .Her talent for imitation. Her benevolence.


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THE MAN 23Opinions concerning her. She is moderate.Kind. She is irritable. Sensible. Her impulsetoward culture. Her horror of vexation andchatter. Her attention to strange opinions.Her power of observation. Child-love. Spiritof order. Wish for mastery. Her care andcraving for what is fitting. She wants me topleaseeverywhere. She took it badly that Iasked her parents for her so soon, and she letme see it quickly. She likes listening to stories.She does not allow herself to be bored by mylove. My love often oppresses her. She iscold generally. Wonderful power of make-believe : power of concealment. Great powerof women to conceal. Her keen observation.Her real tact. All women have what Schlegelblames in the beautiful soul. They are moreperfect than we. Freer than we. Generallywe are better. They recognise better than we.Their nature seems to be our artour naturetheir art. They are born actresses. Theyindividualisewe universalise. She believes inno future life, but in the wandering of the soul.Schlegel interests her. She cannot stand toomuch attention, but yet she resents neglect.She is afraid of spiders and mice. She wantsme to be always pleased. She does not letherself be gloomy.

Favourite food.Cabbage soup. Beef and


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24 FRIEDERICH VON HARDENBERGbeans. Oil. Does not care for wine. Likesseeing things loves comedy. She reflectsmore over others than over herself.Sophie wrote Hardenberg's name ten timeson one page of her diary, and in January 1795we find the following entries :

" Jan. %rd. This morning I wrote to my aunts.There was no school.

"Jan. 4M. We were alone. In the afternoonwe went to Fahnwerg. In the evening wewanted to go to Magister, but nothing cameof it.

"Jan. $th. Early to-day father and Georgewent to Segafstadt. The day was spoiled forme by George leaving.

11 Jan. 6th. This morning Hardenberg rodeaway again. Nothing else happened.

"Jan. 8th. To-day we were alone. Nothinghappened.

"Jan. yth. To-day we were again alone, andnothing happened."One day she writes to him, having lost the

curl he gave : " Figure to yourself that whenyou gave me the hair I wrapped it cleanly in atwist of paper and laid it on Hanssen's table.The other day I wanted to take it away, andthere was neither hair nor bit of paper. Now Ibeg you again to have your hair cut." Andanother day she says: "I have a cough and


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THE MAN 25cold in the head, . . . and yet I think when itoccurs to me of you."In March 1795 they became secretly en-gaged. Erasmus, when his brother wrote toinform him of his intentions, warned him to becareful, as he had so often fallen in love before." Fritz the Flatterer " had paid court to manyand many a maiden and it seems that even duringthe engagement Sophie was not all to him, forhe could not help making love to every girlhe met. Some of the gossip came to the earsof Fraulein von Kuhn, and one day she warnedhim to be " careful in the society of Jette andbehave more sensibly." Hardenberg told " thethirteen year old thing " to hold her tongue.With regard to his fiancee he apparently had noillusions ; for, writing after a stay at Griiningen,he says : " In as long a stay as I made there thedirtier (schmutzigere) reverse could certainly notescape me. ... I was not surprised, and myfeelings were not demented. I shall always loveGriiningen, even if I do not attain my presenthope."

It was her illness in the autumn of 1795 thatdevoted him to her, and then it was that he,like so many a poet before him, began topour the oil of sentiment on his faint flameof love. Sophie von Kuhn became seriouslyill, and, after suffering for some while, was


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26 FRIEDERICH VON HARDENBERGtaken to Jena for an operation ; and thoughHardenberg was by way of being busy at theSalt Works, he managed to get over to Jena fre-quently and spend his time between the sick childand the members of the Romantic-circle whichhad its headquarters there. The great Goethehad an affection for the child, and came to seeher as she lay sick unto death, it was feared,as the Jena surgeons could do nothing to saveher. She was taken back to Griiningen, Eras-mus accompanying her, and once she wrote toher lover from the " golden castle," " Hardly,dear Hardenberg, am I able to write you aline, but only do me a pleasure and do notbe anxious, this is begged by your affectionateSophie."

Hardenberg for some reason was unable tobe much with Sophie in the two months beforeher death ; but he saw her for the last time ashort while before the end.The little girl suffered much pain with wonder-

ful fortitude ; what she really felt for Harden-berg we do not know, but there seems to havebeen a tenderer and more human sympathyexisting between Sophie and Erasmus than be-tween Sophie and her accredited lover ; it isErasmus who accompanies her on her last jour-ney from Jena to Griiningen ; it is Erasmuswho stays by her till the end ; and it is Erasmus


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THE MAN 27who barely a month after follows her into theUnseen.

Friederich wrote a few days after Erasmushad died to his brother Karl in that wonderfulcertitude of immortality which never desertedhim : " Be comforted, Erasmus has overcome.The blossoms of the dearly loved garland arebeing separated here to bloom together inEternity."And later there is an entry in his diary for

April 14th, Erasmus' birthday.

Erasmus1 Birthday." Three-and-twenty years ago, oh, blessed

Erasmus, didst thou first begin to tread therough path that hitherto has been thy lot. To-day, for the first time during those years, thisdate goes by without rejoicing, and instead ofthe congratulations of former days a drear sighescapes me. Thou art parted from us, and wehave nothing left of thee but the memory ofthy sufferings.

" One would surely choose plants from a step-motherly soil for transplanting into a betterland." Bitter did thy pilgrimage become. Difficultwere the last steps. Now it is over. Thou


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28 FRIEDERICH VON HARDENBERGflowerest under a more kindly Heaven, and westill run and yearn after the old comradeship andoppressively chafe at the lead on our feet."

Hardenberg kept an account of the emotionswhich the death of Sophie had roused inhim :

%2fid day after." I showed Sophiechen's pic-ture to Kriesammtmannin Just ; we spoke muchof her ; on the whole a serene, glad day.^rd day after."Thought much of Sophieto-day.

^qtb day after." Thought often of Sophie,but not intently ; coldly about Erasmus. To-day I have eaten too much.

30//6 day after." On the whole I may be con-tent, though, indeed, I have not thought of herwith emotion ; I was almost uneasy, but cer-tainly not in a manner unworthy of her. Ithought of her at times in a manly way. . . .This morning I had that fatal, oppressive, fear-some feeling of an approaching cold in myhead.

4pth day after." I slept badly ... it rainedsteadily. I cried a good deal early, also afterdinner. The whole day I was consecrated tocontemplation of Her. ... I seem to be toomuch in harmony with everyday life . . . howshort a time I am able to remain in theheights.


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THE MAN 29$7,rd day after." I went for a walk and picked

flowers and threw them on her grave. I washappy, but I was cold (in emotion), and yet Icrieda beautiful evening. I sat awhile on hergrave.

$6th day after." In the evening I went toSophie ; there I was unutterably joyfulkind-ling moment of enthusiasmI blew the graveas it had been dust before me. Centuries wereas momentsI could feel her near.

6 st day after."I was not moved at hergraveside. ... I must live ever more andmore for her sake. ... I am for her and forno others. . . . She is the Highestthe onlyOne. ... If I could only be worthy of herin every moment. My principal exercise shouldbe to bring everything in relation to the idea ofher.

65th day after."The world becomes evermore alienthe things around me more in-differentbut it becomes brighter round meand in me.

80th day after." He from whom pain flies willnot love more. The lover must ever feel thegapmust ever hold apart the wounds. MayGod keep me ever in this indescribably sweetpain. Without my Sophie I am nothing ; withher everything.S^rdday after." The only good thing I found

t


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3o FRIEDERICH VON HARDENBERGto-day is the idea of unutterable isolation whichsurrounds me since Sophie's deathwith herthe whole world died for me.

8$thday after." Joyfully as a young poet willI die. . . .

8jth day after." She is dead, so I will diethe world is desert. ... In deep joyous PeaceI will await the moment that calls me. . . .

88th day after."The engagement was notfor this world."

There are many griefs and emotions toosacred to be uttered, and this catalogued experi-ence strikes chill into the heart as bald self-revelation alone can do. Beyond praying God thatthis indescribably dear pain may not pass away,that the wound may never heal, he thinks, likeevery tortured lover, of his time of suicide ; hedallies with the thought, talks it over withfriends, wonders whether vegetable poisonskill, and finally he experiences once more thedesire to live. Consumption had been doing itswork ; after getting a hold on his systemquietly, it appeared and filled him with eager-ness for work and life. Yet not altogether forearthly life, but for death and life in perfectsympathy.

It has been thought that the struggle to feel,the Ringen um den Schmerz, was a characteristicof the eighteenth century, and E. Heilborn says


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THE MAN 31of Hardenberg that he sought pain, and " it with-drew itself; he wished to throw himself, anotherTantalus, into the river of pain, and it driedup under him." Intensity of feeling was toHardenberg and all the Romantics the goal ofmaterial existence, and they delivered them-selves up when it was possible to the mostturbulent and conflicting emotions, destroying,in their; very anxiety for sensation, their abilityto distinguish between true and false emotion.One thing at least is sure, that Hardenberg's

love for Sophie, and his grief over her death,served to awake the poet in him, and that hisaffections were not for purely human use ; theybecame the key to higher secrets"my lovehas become a flame that consumes the things ofearth."

In 1798 Hardenberg left Tennstadt and wentto Leipzig where he studied mineralogy underWerner. While there he lodged in the house ofthe von Charpentiers and thus became intimatewith Julie, daughter of his host. A year and ahalf after Sophie's death he became once moresecretly engaged, and is able to write enthusiasti-cally of his new love.

Hardenberg's family did not welcome the girlwith much pleasure, and it seems that Juliecould not have cared much for her lover, forshe began an endeavour to marry Karl his


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32 FRIEDERICH VON HARDENBERGbrother during Friederich's last illness, and ina letter written by Freiherr von Hardenbergafter Friederich's death, we read " the delightof being rid of Julchen makes it bearable. . . .I wish her a prince if it can make her happy."

Schleiermacher comments on Hardenberg'stwo fiancees, " Sophie had little wit or culture,Julie no heart. I do not think he chose hisloves rightly, or rather that he ever had a realbeloved. I am convinced that either of thesewould have been but little to him had theyremained with him."

Hardenberg spent the last summer of his lifeat Dresden, where the latter phases of phthisismanifested themselves, " a shadow of himself. . . unable to take part in conversation, andoften falling asleep in company, where he layas if dead among the living." Before the endhe went home to Weissenfels and when deathcame to him he was cheerful, even gay, as wesee from one or two of F. Schlegel's letterswritten in March 1801 : "Yesterday I returnedfrom Weissenfels, where at mid-day the daybefore I saw Hardenberg die. . . . One couldhardly think it possible to die so gently, sobeautifully, for the time I was with him hewas unutterably serene. ... It is beyond allthings precious to me to have seen him oncemore."


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THE MAN 33The twenty - nine years of Hardenberg's

practical life ended on Lady Day 1801, a lifeunchequered by great adventures, uncrownedby accomplishment, dragging out its littlelength in study, dreams and sickness, un-cherished by its owner, unvalued by theworld.We must draw aside the curtain of practical

life in order to see that Novalis whose capacityfor feeling was such that he would fain drawthe " universe into his own consciousness."


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NOVALISTHE AUTHOR

' I HHE pseudonym Novalis was chosen by Frie-derich v. Hardenberg when he began to

publish his work, as having been the name ofa branch of his family known in the sixteenthcentury as de Novali. His assumption of a nomde plume seems natural enough, a mere indicationof the gap that existed between the practicallife of Friederich v. Hardenberg and the soul-life of Novalis, and moreover the arrangementmakes it possible to talk of that soul-life as thesupreme element of the duality.

Novalis was neither philosopher nor thinkerin the exact sense of either word, but he wasboth religionist and poet. He was the trueweaver of thoughts, who saw unity in the mostdivergent speculation, who detected analogiesin contraries, who heard harmony in apparentdissonance, whose life seems to have been notso much an origination of thought as anattempt at the reconciliation of results, theresolution of antinomies, arrived at by a divinepenetration. If one could use the word

34


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THE AUTHOR 35"Feeler" or " Intuitionist " it would serve toindicate his mode of apprehending the under-lying unities. Both Schiller and the Schlegelsinfluenced Novalis in youth, but it was Fichte" the Great Ego," who was the determinatorof his thought, and he remained inside theFichtean philosophy all his life though attimes he thought himself outside it. Theinfluence of Hemsterhuys may be traced in hiswritings in various phrases such as these : " thesoul has endless organs of which so far we haveonly discovered the senses," " if the otherorgans could be brought into play how openNature would be," " men ought to have thepower of mingling with Divinity," " Deathaccelerates our way to perfection," and in otherinstances as well. He seems to have helpedNovalis to get away from the despotism offact, away into the rarer transcendental ether,where the idealistic spirit roams untrammelledby convention or exact science. The worksof Jacob Bbhme were read with enthusiasmby Novalis, and they entranced him, as theydid most of the Romantics. Heine saysthe name of Jacob Bbhme was the Shibbo-leth of their school and laughs at their lunacy,though at the same time confessing that he hasnever read a line. Novalis once wrote toTieck of Bbhme, " one sees above all in him


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36 NOVALISthe Power of Spring with its bursting, com-pelling, mingling forces that clothe the worldfrom within." The Power of Spring did notawake in Novalis' own mind till the patheticdeath of Sophie had taken place, but then allthe poetry that had been maturing in the sub-consciousness of youthful years sprang forthinto being. The Hymn to Night appeared, atribute to the Death that had enveloped hiswell-beloved. " Sacred Night with its untoldmysteries allures me ; the world is far, faraway buried in a deep and lonely grave. . . .Light has its own fixed limits, but Night has aboundless unfathomable Dominionthe Reignof Sleep has no End." Besides this paean ofDeath he wrote other hymns of a rare abandon-ment of faith and of some beauty. For himMarien-liebe and Jesu-liebe were two sides ofthe same affection, he thought of God as Priest,Wife, Friend, he apprehended Christ as theLover of His Soul, whose light made earthheaven, and who had rolled away the gravestone from his own deeper inner Life. He hada stalwart love and trust in the truth that madehim free, he had liberated himself from sec-tarianism, and finally was able to be in a sect andnot of it. The early religious influence of hislife was Moravian, and he was given to readingthe works of Count Zinzendorf who, some sixty


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THE AUTHOR 37years earlier, had been John Wesley's friend.Somewhat of Novalis' clearness of vision inspiritual things must be attributed to the sectin which he was brought up. He had learntamong the graves of the Moravian cemeterythat Death was no grim Fate from which toflee , he had read the inscription on each of theequal tombstones"he was born on such aday, and on such other day he returned home."He had heard the Resurrection proclaimedamidst the tombs on Easter Morn. Death wasto him but the Gate of Life. An essentialspirituality pervaded his being, which freed himfrom the limitations of dogma and doctrine,and which enabled him to sympathise with andappreciate Catholicism as well as Dissent fromCatholicism. Heine says that he became aCatholic, but he did not ; and it is enough toknow that he possessed the key of all religions,that which is common to all, trust in God andin a future Life. No hymns can excel in pietythose which he wrote, full of a tender deeprealisation of the place of the Mystic Christ, ofthe Ideal of Manhood in his own deepest life,who both made him man and illuminatedDestiny. In Christ he feels that Death andLife are made one, that the everlasting enmitybetween the Ending and the Unending isneutralised, he finds love, peace, joy, and the


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38 NOVALISsun that will make him fruitful to all perfection.Christ was to Novalis what the Holy Will wasto Fichte, and both learnt in their own way themeaning of the Love that moves the sun andall the stars.

It has been said that the true test of a hymnis that it would make a love poem, and thetest of a real love poem is that it would makea hymn. Whether this was the standard aimedat by Novalis or no he often clothes his spiritu-ality in materialistic phraseology as in his visionof the true and universal Agape. "Few knowthe secret of Love, feel for ever unsatisfied, forever athirst. The divine significance of theSupper is a riddle to earthly sense. But hewho once has drunk in the breath of Life fromwarm beloved lips, whose heart has melted inthe quivering waves of holy fire, whose eyeshave been opened to measure the unfathomabledepths of heavenhe will eat of His Body anddrink of His Blood for ever more. Who hasyet guessed the transcendent meaning of thisearthly Life ? Who can say that he under-stands the Blood ? One day all bodies shallbe one Body, then the holy pair will float inheavenly blood. Oh ! that the ocean werealready reddening ; that the rocks were soften-ing into fragrant flesh ! The sweet repastnever ends ; love is never satisfied. Never


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THE AUTHOR 39can it have the beloved near enough, closeenough to its inmost self. By ever tendererlips the heavenly food is ever more eagerlyenjoyed. More fiercely burns the passion of thesoul ; thirstier, ever thirstier grows the heart,and so the feast of Love endures from ever-lasting to everlasting. Had those who abstainbut once tasted of it, they would forsakeeverything and seat themselves beside us at thetable of longing, which is ever furnished withguests. They would comprehend the infinitefeelings of Love, and extol our Feast of theBody and the Blood."

In this mystic rhapsody we see the manner inwhich the Christian Mysteries were treated bythe Romantics, that in their more rapturousmoments Christianity became for them not onlythe Gospel of the Spirit, but also the innerGospel of the Flesh.

For Novalis, as for Bohme, the road led everinwards. He sought the true religious life, thelife of the ages ; he saw the shortness of theearthly tenure and the greatness of the soul.Religion is " sense and taste for the Unending,"and Novalis in his tireless search seemed mosttruly to be the incarnation of an eternal soul." Religion arises when a holy soul is thrilledby the Universum"it is in Each to find All,in the Ending to find the Unending. Formulae


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4o NOVAL1Sare unimportant ; each man contains his ownsalvation. "It is not thou who believest in asacred book that hast religion, but the man whoneeds nonewho could ever make one himself,"and hence everything human is holy, for every-thing is divine. Death, too, is but an incidentto both these mystics. There is no death, "Whoknows whither we shoot forth when we dis-appear from hence ? Perhaps over there theremay be a death, the result of which is earthly life."An essay, "Christianity or Europe," was

written by Novalis about 1796. He looked invain for the sweet, soul-uniting belief in thegovernment of God on earth, for that divineconfidence between man and man, for that sweetdevotion at the outpouring of the God-inspiredspirit, that all-embracing Love. For reasonsbest known to themselves, Goethe and DorotheaVeit kept this essay out of the Athenaeum." Flower Pollen" was published in 1797, theyear of Sophie's death. " It is a duty to thinkof the dead ; it is the only way to remain infellowship with them." It consists of ejaculatedthought, and contains no consecutive theme.

" Heinrich von Osterdingen," his latest work,and his most sustained effort, a singularly beau-tiful romance, remains unfinished. The "Dis-ciples at Sais " is unfinished, the " Encyclopaedia "and "Thought Exercises" are fragments; but


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THE AUTHOR 41it must be always kept in mind that Novalis didnot write primarily for publication, and that mayaccount for the hoard of unfinished dramas,translations and varied endeavour that he leftbehind. He had such a sense of the Eternalthat the Finite seemed to him but of littleaccount, and the mere finishing and perfectingof a production was a matter of sincere indiffer-ence to him in his earnest curiosity for newknowledge. The literature of his time, withthe exception of " Wilhelm Meister," influencedhim peculiarly little. Of course, like Napoleon,he wept over the sorrows of Werther, of coursehe read Ossian, who had just then become theideal poet of Romance, and he was to a greatextent tinged by the curious and widespreadsentimentality of his time. His style, such asit was, was his own, and is characterised bythe strangest inequality, ranging from inspiredpoetry to commonplace expression. He reachedthe highest in " Sais," and its few pages containthe sum of his Thought and reveal that new,inner, half-guessed understanding of Nature ofwhich Novalis alone amongst his contemporariesdeeply realised the meaning.

Truly Novalis had come into the world ata critical moment. The years between I77 2and 1 801, the term of his natural life, weresome of the most vital in European history, for


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42 NOVALISthey witnessed the culmination of that greatstruggle of the Rights of the Individual, thatmighty egoistic wave that enveloped Europeand even America in its advance towards SocialReconstruction. Surveying the world, we seeEngland losing America, France emergent fromthe Feudal system, and men everywhere sys-tematising all things. In spite of social anarchythere was a deep, strong undercurrent of Order,a genius for investigation was abroad, all branchesof knowledge were being classified and syste-matised into sciences. In the realm of NaturalPhilosophy there were many eager searchers,and it is not surprising that Novalis, with hisfervid imagination, was captivated by their quest.Joseph Priestly was discovering that air partswith its oxygen to the blood as it passes throughthe lungs ; Aloysius Galvani, who gave hisname to the Force which he discovered, wasworking along the same lines as Ritter andVolta. Novalis was absorbed by the newgalvanic theories, and said that " Thought mustbe galvanisation," while Schelling waxed en-thusiastic about oxygen, and thought it thePhilosopher's Stone. It was necessary forNovalis to know something of Mineralogy inhis profession, and so he went to learn ofWerner, the professor at Freyberg. Wernerwas a man of note who had first applied the


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THE AUTHOR 43term "Formations" to the groups of stratawhich are usually found associated, and theterm "Transition" to the rocks lying betweenthose called primitive and secondary, and he it waswho led Novalis into the secrets of Nature andwho greatly inspired him. " The Disciples atSa'i's" was the natural outcome of the tumultuousyet ordered activity around him, that greatNature- Revelation which, with its strangeanalogies and nascent harmonies, is one of thegreatest poems in the possession of men.Werner, the Mineralogist and Collector, musthave been, it seems, the "Master" in Sa'i's,and the Pupil who is not so ready as the othersis probably Novalis himself, who says "every-thing leads me back into myself," and "ourMaster wishes that we should all travel bydifferent paths, as all eventually lead to Sa'i'sSa'i's, the ancient Egyptian city in which thetemple of Isis stood, and whose priests tradi-tionally held the profound lore of the unriddledUniverse. In this remarkable work we maylearn that he conceived Nature as a vast self-existent universally related Whole, and his ideaof the sciences was " that they should mutuallyelucidate, confirm and enforce each other."Here we find expressed the idea of Unity thatpossessed all the Romantics, the idea that madeeven the great Goethe rejoice more in the dis-


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44 NOVALIScovery of the " os intermaxillare" in man thanin any other of his work.

There is no question but that the genius ofNovalis lay in his capacity for Unification ; andit is for this reason that he seems to be theembodiment of the aspiration of his age, thoughhe had neither real mathematical nor philo-sophical training ; yet an extraordinary intuitioncombined with a strong poetic faculty enabledhim, like Emerson, whose mind more nearlyresembles his than any other, to be a weaver ofthoughts, a writer of theories, a mingler of dis-coveries. Like Coleridge he was fragmentaryand unconsecutive in his work, and it is difficultto give in a few words an idea of the philosophythat is scattered up and down in the thoughtexercises and encyclopaedic fragments. Hesays : " Philosophy is the science of self-analysis, through philosophising we begin toperceive that Nature or the outer world issimilar to a human being, we find out that wecan only begin to comprehend things in thesame way in which we know ourselves andthose dearest to us. At last we realise the truebond of union between subject and object, anddiscover that even in our own selves there is anouter world, which stands in the same relationto our inner selves that our outer life bears tothe outer world, that the latter are as closely


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THE AUTHOR 45connected as our outer and inner life, and,therefore, we can only comprehend the innerlife and soul of Nature by reflection, even as itis only by sensation that our outer life comesin contact with material forces." " The roadleads inwards, inwards to the depths of theEgo ; the highest task of culture is self masteryof the inner life, so that it may become indeedthe true Ego." " We are called to the culti-vation of the Earth," he says, " she takes man'simpression. Humanity is the higher sense ofour planet, the nerve that connects this portion(of the Universe) with a higher world, the Eyethat it lifts to Heaven." For Novalis Man isMediator between God and Nature. " Natureshall become moral, we are her teachers, hermoral tangents, her moral attraction." Novalis,in spite of his deep-seated monistic tendency,becomes a dualist in his view of Nature. Insteadof making God and Nature the same, he placesher in opposition to Him as her goal ; God,endless Activity ; Nature, endless object (themeor matter) ; / the Endless condition. God andNature must be separated, God is the Goal ofNature, that with which she shall one dayharmonise. He seems to represent God not asthe moving Spirit with the cosmos, but as overagainst the world that He had thrown ofF inorder that it might yield itself to Him. The Ego


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46 NOVALISis that which binds the subjective and objectiveworld, and it must be in its very essence Love,for the Ego is forever two who are yet one, andthus it is that the conception of an extra mundaneGod and of a temporal creation is evaded. ForNovalis as for Fichte if there is Man there mustbe God, if there is God there must be Man.

There is no occasion to dwell much on thephilosophy of Novalis ; his system, if it can becalled a system, was made up of monistic anddualistic ingredients on Fichtean lines. He wasin reality a born Poet and Religionist, and itis as such, and not as a Philosopher, that hemust live ; and though his intense realisation ofthat dream of the ages, the Unity of the Uni-verse, may appear philosophic, yet he was intruth no thinker but a dreamer, whose innatetendency was to regard phenomena as the ever-lasting breaking of waves on some shore, eachwave disappearing only to reappear in someother, all alike being manifestations of thehidden Unity. He arrived at the same resultsas the thinker, but, as he said himself in Sais,there are many roads that lead to the Temple ofthe veiled Goddess, of Isis the Mystery.

During the last year of his life, the workof John Brown, the Scotch doctor, interestedNovalis much ; he was the inventor of theBrunonian system of dividing disease into two


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THE AUTHOR 47classes, sthenic and asthenic, a man who triedto combine the healing of soul and body, thetrue mystic hidden by the physician's garb.Novalis ever turned in upon himself, revelled inthe new theory, and even fell in love with sick-ness, for it became to him valuable as a process ofindividualisation, a school for the cultivation ofthe disposition. From early years Novalis hadlearnt to look on death as the home-going. Thereare some people in this world whose faces arealways set towards home, who suffer the samedivine nostalgia that Perugino painted into thecountenances of his saints. For every illumin-ated soul, death is but the greater Transubstan-tiation, a more mighty Sacrament than any ofwhich the Churches teach. It is the Gate of theHoly of Holies, for ever shut in this world,because on its lintel is inscribed the word thatslays. Before he was twenty - nine, Novalishad surrendered his life into that Night whichis the inner Day, into that great Song of Nightwhich he had said is the sublime Song of Deathor of New Life.On account of his long brown hair, his white

semi-transparent forehead, his glowing eyes andhis face irradiate with spirituality, he waslikened by his friends to the picture of St JohnBaptist in the Munich Gallery. So great washis preoccupation with the Unseen that he


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48 NOVALISwould wander through the grass-lands, whenin springtime they were studded with flowers,and see not the green grass beneath his feetnor the blue sky above, but the yet broadermeadows, the yet more enchanting flowers ofthe Eternal Country. Landscape for him, asfor every true Romantic, was but a state of thesoul, Nature but the accompaniment to the motifof man's mood. India for him, as for F. Schlegel,was the Homestead of the Soul, the Source of allReligion, and the blue waves of Heaven as theyflowed gently overhead imaged the mysteriousSea of Death. A sweet, all-pervading unityemanated from his soul making distant thingsfamiliar.

Novalis is such a beautiful dreamer that whenwe come to analyse his work we feel as if wewere bruising the wings of some glorious bluebutterfly, whose life has been a series of flightsfrom mystery to mystery, and whose true homeis the empyrean, the real Bird of Paradise, ofwhich it is said that it has no feet, and so musthang hovering for ever. If we are going tobrush the dust from the blue wings we musttell first what he said of himself: "Spinozaclimbed to Nature, Fichte to the Ego or Person-ality, I to the thesis, God," and yet, in spite ofhis vaunt, as far as thought went, he remainedin a far smaller circle than either. And why ?


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THE AUTHOR 49Because he lacked the power of consecutive,concentrated thought, the really trained faculties;he was full of intuitions, enthusiasms, interests,originality ; with a wide vision and a small grasp.But after all, perhaps the lustre of the bluewings is really enhanced by the removal of thephilosophic dust ; their true colour is shownto be the diviner cobalt of Poetry, and theirowner as a magic Intuitionist in the SpiritualKingdom.


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SELECTIONS FROM THE WORKSOF NOVALIS


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SPIRITUAL HYMNS

Without Thee where should I have ended,Without Thee what should I have done ?Delivered o'er to anxious terrorI should have stood on earth alone.I knew not what I loved with surety,The Future yawned a gulf below.And whom could I, my heart revealing,Make a partaker of my woe ?Lonely, consumed by Love and Longing,Each day appeared to me a night.I coursed through life with headlong hurry,And bitter tears did blind my sight.I found no rest amid the tumult,And hopeless grief e'en in my home.Who would on Earth remain a momentWithout a friend 'neath heaven's dome ?But if Christ once to me has beckoned,And I of Him am really sure,Oh ! but how soon a life illuminedMaketh the darkness to pass o'er !

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54 NOVALISThrough Him I manhood first attained,By Him my fate untangled is,And India's sun in regions polar,Resembleth much that Love of His.Thus life becomes a joy supernal,Love and delight spring everywhere,For each wound grows a herb of healing,And each heart burns to do and dare.For all His various gifts most gratefulRespectfully I bend the knee,Convinced of having Him among usWhere gathered are but two or three.Oh ! go out into every highwayAnd fetch the erring ones within,Stretch out thine hand, with love receive them,And bid them join us here within.To Earth has Heaven now descended,By Faith we see Him verily,And those in One Love with us joinedThe Revelation also see.Of sins an old persistent burdenWas bound on us, our hearts were low,We wandered in the night all blindly,Aliens alike from joy and woe ;Each action seemed to us a trespass,And Man the enemy of God ;


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HYMNS 55And if we heard the voice of HeavenIt spoke of Death or chast'ning rod.The heart, the spring of life's rich fountain,Seemed habited by wicked elves,If our poor spirits ever lightenedIt was no gain to our sad selves.An iron rivet held us fastened ;We, muttering prisoners to the earth,And fear of Death's great sword of justiceExtinguished hope, and left us dearth.

But a Deliverera Saviour,A Son of Man with love and might,Within us fire immortal kindledTo love-flame clear, eternal, bright.For once we saw the heavens openedAs if they were our Fatherland,We could again be faithful, hopefulAnd feel that God was near at hand.Since then did sin amongst us dwindleAnd each man's joy rang in his pace,To children was the Faith then tendered,As richest dower of our Race.Through Him Life glided by enhanced,As if some hallowed dream it were,And given o'er to Love and Longing,Our farewells did not touch welfare.


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56 NOVALISAnd still there stands in glorious splendourThe Holy Lover ever here,Touched are we by His crown so thorny,And by His faithfulness so dear.And every man to us is welcomeWho grips His Hand with us and liesWith us together in His heart-core,To ripen Fruit of Paradise.

II

Eastward Dawn is slowly breaking,Antique times their youth renew,I shall drink my deep thirst slakingAt the fount of rainbow hueDrink fulfilment of life's old desire ;Drink Love sweet, transfigured, reft of fire.

Lastly, to the earth there comethThe Sacred Child of all the skies,Round the earth the life-wind hummethIn creative songs that rise,Kindling newly from extinguished ashesBrilliant, everlasting lightning flashes.

Everywhere from graves upwellingSee new lives, and quickened bloodIn the Life Stream laves He, tellingOf our peace amidst the flood ;


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HYMNS $7With outstretched hands for ever standing,Ready to fulfil all man's demanding.Let His Countenance so tenderDeep impress thy human soul,By His glance He thee will renderJoyous and most surely whole,Then would all men's hearts and souls and sensesMingle in the dance that first commences.Grip His Hands with utmost rigour,Print His Face thy heart upon,Turn to Him in all thy vigour,As a flower turns to the sun ;So thou only show Him thy heart's treasureHe will be thine, and loving without measure.Ours has now become for everThe Divine which we did fear,South and North in one endeavourSeek the heavenly seed to rear.In God's garden hopeful leave them sleeping,Bud and blossom in His tender keeping.

IllWho sitteth in his chamber lonely,And weepeth salt and bitter tears,

To whom all Life's experience onlyIn garb of sorrow drear appears.


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5 8 NOVALISWho, on the picture of past ages,

Looks deep as if down some abyss,Towards which a yearning that assuagesSeems drawing him to deeper bliss.It seems as though mysterious treasuresWere heaped and stored for him below

He seeks the key in haste, nor measuresWhat breath or strength he should bestow.In barrenness the Future dreary

Lies stretched ahead at fearful length,He wanders round alone and weary,Seeking himself with ardent strength.I fell into his arms in cryingAh ! once I was as thou art now,

Yet I've got better of my dying,For everlasting peace I know.

Thou need'st, as I did, a ConsolerWho inly struggled, loved and died,That e'en for those who wreaked their cholerOn Him, with joyfulness He died.

And thou canst daily, through His dying,Appropriate His Love and Him,

And in all states, however trying,Canst with thine arms reach unto Him.


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HYMNS 59From Him does blood and life flow newly

Into thy dusty, brittle frame,If thou thy heart give to Him trulyHe will love back in manner same.What thou hast lost, with Him thou findeth,

In Him thou meetest all thy love,And to thee He ever bindethWhat His Hand restores in Love.

IV'Midst a thousand hours of gladness,Which I knew amidst life's sadness,One alone remains with me ,

One in which 'mid pain unhealedTo my sad heart was revealedWho it was that died for me.

All my world for me was shattered,Just as if by storm-wind battered,

Withered all my heart's delight,All my life's most dear possessionLay engulfed in deep depression,And I but bewailed my plight.

As I thus in silence ailed,Inly piningdeeply wailed,

Only living on through fear


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60 NOVALISSuddenly, as if by magic,Rolled away my grave-stone tragic,And my inmost soul was clear.

Whom I saw, and whom beside Him,Let none ask, lest woe betide him,

Ever shall I see but this,And of all Life's hours named vitalThis alone deserves that title,

Like my griefs still vivid is.

If only Him I have,If He be but mine,

If my heart hence to the graveNe'er forget His troth divine,

Nought know I of sadness,Only worship, joyfulness and gladness.If only Him I have,

Gladly leave I all,Follow on my pilgrim's stave

Right loyally His call,Letting all the othersTread the bright and crowded way as brothers.If only Him I have,

I lay down in peace,


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HYMNS 6Refreshed by the dear waveOf Love that ne'er shall cease,

Which with sweet compelling,Melts and penetrates by strange indwelling.If only Him I have,

I possess the world,Blessed as an angel-knave

Holding Mary's veil unfurled.Sunk in adoration,I do fear no earthly isolation.

Where only Him I have,Is my Fatherland,And the heritage I craveA free gift in my hand,Friends I had lamentedFind I now amongst his sons presented.

VIIf all are faithless to Thee,

Yet true to Thee stay I,That gratitude among usShould not entirely die.

For me Thou barest sorrow,And sufferest death's keen dart,

Therefore with joy I give TheeFor evermore this heart.


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6 2 NOVALISOft must I bitter weepingLament Thy Death, and yet !How many of Thy childrenThee all their lives forget.

By Love alone constrainedHast Thou such great things done,

And yet Thou art gone down to death,And no one thinks thereon.

Thou stand'st a steadfast LoverFor ever by each one,

And if all men forsake Thee,Art still the Faithful One.The truest Love shall conquer,We feel it, in the end,

Convinced by Thee we, weeping,Like children 'fore Thee bend.

I have indeed received Thee,Oh, let me never go,

And let me sweet communionFor ever with Thee know.

One day my brethren alsoShall turn from worldly marts,

In love they'll bow before Thee,Surrendering their hearts.


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HYMNS 63AVE MARIA

In countless pictures I behold thee,Oh ! Mary Mother, sweet expressed,

Yet none of these can e'er unfold theeAs I have graved thee, in my breast.

I only know that the world's madnessSeems to slip by me like some dream,And that an infinite sweet gladness

Steeps all my soul in its clear stream.

HYMN TO NIGHTWhat living man,Endowed with senses,Does not loveBefore all the other Marvels,Of the vast space that encircles him,The all-gladdening Light,With its rays and its waves,Its coloursAnd its gentle omnipresenceDuring the Day ?As the inmost soulOf Life,The giant-worldOf Restless Stars


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64 NOVALISThat swim in its blue sea, breathes it,The sparkling stone breathes it,The quiet Plants,And the AnimalsIn all their varied forms,In all their mobile strength.The many-colouredClouds and Airs breathe it.And above allThe Magnificent Strangers"With their meditative eyesAnd stately gaitAnd resounding voices.As the SovranOf Earthly NatureIt calls every powerTo innumerable transformations,And its presence aloneManifests the wondersOf the Terrestrial Kingdom.

V Backward I turn) To Thee, oh ! Sacred, Unspeakable NightFar away the WorldLies buried as if in some deep grave.How deserted and lonely are her high places !Deep Sorrow moans through the Chords of the

BreastThe Memory of distant ones,The wishes of Youth,


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HYMNS 65The Dreams of childhood,The short JoysOf all a long life,Its vain hopes,Come in drab garmentsLike evening mistsAfter the Sun'sSetting.Far off lies the WorldWith its gaudy delights.In other spacesLight establishesIts airy habitation.Suppose it never returnedTo its faithful children,Its garden,Its splendid home ?But what is it that flowsSo cool and refreshing,So full of presentiment,Into one's heart,And that absorbsSorrow's soft breath ?

fHast thou, too, a human heart.Dark Night ?What dost thou holdUnder thy MantleThat pierces my soulWith invisible strength ?

E


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66 NOVALISThou only appearest awful.A costly BalsamDrips from thy handFrom out a bundle of Poppies.In sweet intoxicationThou foldest the wingsOf the Spirit,And givest us JoysDark and inexpressible,Secret as thou thyself art,Joys that allow usTo guess at Heaven.

I How poor and childishLight appears to meWith its coloured things,How joyful and sacredThe Departure of Day.And only because NightTurns those who serve away from theeThou sowest in the vaults of spaceGlittering Balls,In memory of thy Omnipotence,Of thy return,In the times of thy Absence.More celestial than the glimmering starsOf those spacesSeem the infinite eyesThat NightOpens within us.


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HYMNS 67These see furtherThan the palestOf those uncountable hosts.Unneeding of LightThey penetrate the depthsOf a loving spiritAnd so fill the higher spacesWith unspeakable satisfaction.Praise to the World-Queen,To the High Herald of the Sacred World,The CherisherOf Holy LoveThou comest Beloved !Night is here.Delighted is my soul,The earthly road is passedAnd Thou once more art mine.I gaze into thy deep dark eyes,I see nought but love and blessedness.We sink on the Altar of Night,On the soft couch.The mantle descends,And kindled by the warm embraceThe sweet sacrificeIs illumined in clearFlame.


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THOUGHTSON PHILOSOPHY, LOVE ANDRELIGION

TJYPOTHESES are nets ; only he will catchwho casts his net.

Was not America discovered through Hypo-thesis. Long live Hypothesis !

Precisely because we are philosophers weneed not bother ourselves about issues. Wehave the principle, that is enough ; the rest canbe left for commoner brains !The philosopher subsists on problems, as a

man on food. An insoluble problem is an in-digestible food. What seasoning is to food,paradox is to problem. A problem is trulysolved when it ceases to exist as such. It isthe same with food. The gain in both is theactivity to which they both give rise. More-over there are nourishing problems as well asnourishing foods, whose elements become agrowth of my intelligence. Through philo-sophy, in so far as it is an absolute opera-


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SELECTED THOUGHTS 69tioQ my intelligence, besides being ceaselesslynourished, continually improves, which is onlythe case with food up to a certain point. Asudden improvement of our intelligence is asthinkable as a sudden access of strength. Thetrue step of health and improvement is slow.Just as little as we eat to gain strength andnew material, just so little do we philosophisein order to find strange new truths. Wephilosophise for the same reason that we live.Should we ever arrive at living without theaccustomed means of nourishment we shouldbe far on the road to philosophise without givenproblems, if some have not already attained tothis.

To philosophise is to dephlegmatise, to makealive.

Whoever knows what it is to philosophiseknows what it is to live and vice versa.

Metaphysic is the true Dynamic of Thought.Activity is the only Reality.

Light is in all cases Action. Light is likeLife, active Activity.

All Happening is wonderful, the activity of ahigher Being, a Problem.


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70 NOVALISWhat is Nature ? An encyclopaedic syste-

matic index or plan of our Soul. Why shouldwe content ourselves with a mere catalogue ofour treasures ? Let us examine them, work atthem, and make varied use of them. The Fatewhich oppresses us is indolence of Soul. Bythe extension and cultivation of our activitieswe shall transform ourselves into Fate.

All seems to flow into us, because we do notflow out. We are negative, because we chooseto be. The more positive we become, the morenegative will the World around us become, tillin the end Negation will be no more, but weshall be all in all.

God desires gods.We must hereafter separate God and Nature.

God has nothing to do with Nature. He is thegoal of Nature, with whom she will one day beharmonised. Nature must become moral, andthus of course the Kantian moral God andmorality appear in quite a different light. Themoral God is something much higher than themagic God.

We must try to be magicians in order to beproperly moral. The more moral, the more


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SELECTED THOUGHTS 71harmonised with God, the more godly, the moreunited to God.God may become intelligible to us through

the moral sense.The moral sense is the sense of existence

without external affects, the sense of solidarity,the sense of the highest, the sense of harmony,the sense of freely chosen yet associated life andbeing, the sense of the thing-in-itself, the realdivination sense (to divine is to perceive some-thing without reason, without contact). Theword sense which denotes mediate cognition,contact, mingling, is not altogether apt herethough it is an infinite expression, as it has aninfinite extension. The proper meaning canonly be approximately expressed. It is nonsenseor sense as against that non-sense.

Shall I set God or the World-Soul in Heaven ?It were better if I explained Heaven as a moralUniverse and found room for the World-Soul inthe Universum.To act morally and to act religiously areconsequently closely united. One must aim at

a complete inward and outward harmony ; tofulfil of one's own will both the law and thewill of God. Thus there is a one-sided moraland a one-sided religious activity.When our intelligence and our world are in

harmony then are we like unto God.


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72 NOVALISWe naturally only understand what is strange

by becoming self-alienated, self-altered, self-observant. Then we see the true bond ofthe connexion between subject and objectsee, that in us too, there is an outer worldwhich stands in the same relation to ourinner selves that our outer life bears to theouter world, and that these two are as closelyunited as our inner and outer selves. There-fore we can only perceive the inward being andthe soul of Nature through thought, even as weonly perceive the external being and body ofNature through sensation.

It is dogmatic if I should say there is no God,there is no science, there is no thing-in-itselfI can only say as a critic : For me there is nosuch person, except one devised. All Illusionis as essential to Truth as the body to the soul.Error is the necessary instrument of Truth. Imake Truth with Error ; the accomplished useof Error, accomplished possession of Truth.

All synthesis, all progression or transitionbegins with Illusion. I see without me whatis within me, I think that just what I do is thatwhich happens and so on. This is the Error ofSpace and Time.

Faith is the operation of Illusion, the basisof Illusion. All knowledge at a distance is


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SELECTED THOUGHTS 73Faith. The idea external to me is a Thing.All knowledge begins and ends in Faith.Previous and subsequent amplification of know-ledge is extension, or amplification of the pro-vince of Faith. The Ego imagines a strangebeing ; by approximation to it there arisesanother mediate being, the product whichbelongs to the Ego and which at the sametime does not belong to the Ego. The mediateresults of the process are the chief matter.The fortuitously become or made Thing is theThing aimed at inverted.

If a man suddenly veraciously believes thathe is moral, he will be so.The supposition of the ideal of what is sought

is the method of finding it.Faith is a miraculous power. All Faith is

miraculous and miracle working. God is in themoment that I believe in Him. Faith is anindirect miracle, a working force. By Faith wecan at any moment work miracles for ourselves,and often for others too if they believe in us.The immortal Sense of the Unseen cannot be

annihilated, but it may be clouded, mutilated,smothered by other senses. A measure of loneli-ness seems necessary to those devoted to thehigher Sense, and therefore a too frequent com-munion with men must stifle many sacred germs.


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74 NOVALISIs Speculation naturally and designedly poetic ?

Possibly. Otherwise we should be forced toset ourselves a goal in order that we should notwander dementedly in this same Speculation asin a labyrinth. For here is the abode of thatso notorious Speculation, of that decried falseMysticism, of belief in the fathoming of thething-in-itself.

Criticism but shows the necessity of Limita-tion, Determination. Restraint points to a deter-mined goal, and transforms Speculation into auseful and even a poetic Instrument.

The endless continuation of activity is charac-teristic of psychic or spiritual inertia.

Everything excellent deserves ostracism. Itis a good thing when it ostracises itself. Every-thing absolute must be ostracised from theworld. In the world we must live with theworld. We only live when we are living inthe sense of the people with whom we live.All good that there is in the world comes fromwithin, but it only twinkles through.The Excellent causes the world to advance,

but it must quickly be suppressed.The most wonderful, the eternal phenomenon


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SELECTED THOUGHTS 75is our own existence. The greatest secret isman himself. The solving of this endlessproblem is in very deed the History of theWorld. We seek the purpose of the world !We ourselves are this purpose.We must seek God among men. The Spirit

of Heaven is most clearly manifest in humanevents, human thoughts and sensations.

There is but one Temple in the worldthehuman body. Nothing is holier than thissublime form. (The bowing before men is ahomage to this revelation in the flesh.) Wetouch Heaven when we touch the human body.What is mysticism ? What things can be

treated mystically ? Religion, Love, Nature, theState, everything elect is related to mysticism.If all men were like a pair of lovers, the differ-ence between mysticism and non-mysticismwould disappear.

^ If God can become man He can also becomea stone, a plant, an animal, an element, andperhaps there is in this way a progressiveredemption of Nature.

Properly understood Morality is the real lifeelement of man. It is intimately connected with


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y6 NOVALISthe fear of God. Our pure moral will is God'swill. When we fulfil His will we gladden andextend our own existence, and it is really asthough we did it for our own good, from withinour own nature. Sin is of course the real evilof the world. All calamity proceeds from it.Whoso understands sin understands virtue andChristianity, his own self and the world. With-out this understanding we cannot make themerit of Christ our own, we have no part inthat second higher Creation.

Our whole life is service of God.The Catholic Religion is far more visible,

intimate and familiar, than the Protestant Re-ligion. In the latter one sees nothing butChurch towers and vestments, which are inthemselves a temporisation.

With the Ancients Religion certainly was whatit should be with uspractical Poetry.The higher knowledge of the East which is

attained through inactivity and intuition, is aspecies of intellectual quietism. Their Systemof knowledge resembles our System of grace.A passive System is indirectly an activeSystem.


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SELECTED THOUGHTS 77Axiom : We can know nothing of ourselves.

All true knowledge must be given to us.All absolute perception is religious.

God is Love. Love is the highest Reality,the First Cause.

Thou hast so much Love around thee, andrejoicest so little in it. Love should be thetrue comfort and life-joy of the genuineChristian.

Love is the ultimate goal of the World'sHistory, the Amen of the Universe.With Love it is the same as with conviction.How many believe they are convinced and are

not convinced. Only by Truth can we betruly convinced, only through Love can wetruly love.

The Heart is the key of the world and of life.We live in our present helpless condition inorder to love one another, and be obliged tohelp one another. Through imperfection webecome open to the influence of others.

In illness others can and may help us. Fromthis point of view, Christ is surely the Key ofthe^world.


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78 NOVALISMuch of Scepticism is only unripe Idealism.A Realist is an Idealist who knows nothing

of himself.

Crude Idealism, Idealism at first hand isRealism.

We shall not miss the way if we regard theUniversal in us and about us.It is only because of the feebleness of our

perceptions and activity that we do not perceiveourselves to be in a fairy world.The first man was the first spiritual Seer

everything seemed to him spirit. How arechildren other than first men ? The first glanceof a child is more convincing than the premoni-tion of the most gifted Seer.

Humanity is the higher sense of our planet,the nerve that binds this planet to the upperworld, the eye that it raises to Heaven.

The Bible opens splendidly with Paradise, thesymbol of youth, and closes with the eternalKingdom, with the Holy City. These twochief features are also quite historic. The


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SELECTED THOUGHTS 79beginning of the New Testament is the second,the higher fall (a sin, that had to be sinned), andthe beginning of a new period. The historyof every man should be a Bible ; will be a Bible.Christ is the new Adam.

Man began in instinct and will end in instinct.Instinct is genius in Paradise, before the periodof self-abstraction (self-knowledge). Shall manduplicate himself, and not only duplicate, buttriplicate himself?

The spirit world is in fact revealed to us; itis always open. Could we suddenly become assensitive as is necessary, we should perceiveourselves to be in its midst. What are themethods for the healing of our present deficientcondition ? Formerly they were fasts and moralpurification ; now maybe by invigoration.

In the Spiritual Nature-Kingdom, each manmust everywhere seek his peculiar territory andclimate, his best occupation, his particular neigh-bourhood, in order to cultivate a Paradise inIdea ; this is the right system. Paradise is theideal of earthly lands, the resting-place of thesoul. An instructed man should be, withregard to nature's forces, what a botanic and


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80 NOVALISEnglish garden (aspiration after Paradise) is inregard to the ground and its productsa moreyouthful, concentrated, potent soil.Paradise is scattered over the whole earth,and that is why it has become so unrecognisable.Its scattered features shall be reunited, itsskeleton shall be filled out. This would bethe Regeneration of Paradise.

It is strange that the Hebrews did notrepresent their vowels. The consonant formsperhaps arose from the configuration of theproducing organs.The soul is a consonant body. Vowels are

called by the Hebrews Alphabet-souls.All Realities created out of nothing, as for

instance, Numbers and Abstract Expressions, aremysteriously connected with things of anotherWorld with unending lines of wondrous com-binations and relationships, likewise with an, initself, Mathematic and Abstract World.

Everywhere, it seems to me, there is anunderlying grammatic mysticism which mightvery easily excite the first wonder at speech andscript. (Savage people still hold script to bewitchcraft.)

Inclination to the marvellous and mysteriousis nothing but effort towards unsensational,


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SELECTED THOUGHTS 81spiritual stimulus. Mysteries are means ofnourishment, inciting potentialities. Explana-tions are comprehended mysteries.

Seasons and times, Life and Fateall areremarkable, rhythmic, metric, regular through-out. In all crafts and arts, in all machines, inorganic bodies, in our daily occupations, every-where, there is rhythm, metre, accent, melody.All that we do with a certain skill unnoticed, wedo rhythmically. There is rhythm everywhere ;it insinuates itself everywhere. All mechanismis metric, rhythmic. There must be more in itthan this. Is it merely the influence of inertia ?To seek after originality is literary egoism,

gross egoism. Whoever cannot treat a

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