← Back to the beginning of At the University
The Son to the Father.
[XXXIX.] Halle, 14th August, 1787.
DEAREST FATHER,
Your tender inquiries about my health are a new proof of your fatherly affection, and I hasten the more willingly to reply to them as I can give you the desired answer; for since I have been here I have enjoyed such excellent health that I can only remember one day when I did not feel quite well.
The pleasure that I know this will give you, is, however, to me but a slight compensation for the pain of not yet being able to announce to you what I know you have most at heart, I mean the tidings of a change in my convictions. You write that if I would but observe myself, I would soon become aware that I cannot of myself get rid of my faults. I see that every day, dearest father; but then I do not believe that God demands this of us. He cannot will that we should become faultless here below already, for that is not possible. God, I believe, looks to the heart; to Him the chief matter is whether we really take pains to conquer our defects; whether we exert ourselves to the utmost to do this. And, as I know that you like me to tell you frankly my thoughts, I must inform you that I feel more easy in regard to my opinions now that I have learnt to know many persons who certainly had firm faith in the Gospels, and who were nevertheless not more faultless than others, and, on the contrary, often allowed themselves to be carried away by their faults; while, on the other hand, I have been acquainted with others who were far from believing in the Gospel, and who were nevertheless some of the best men I have ever known; and also, because I find quite sufficient reasons in connection with my views to spur me on to endeavour to become ever more pleasing in the sight of God; for the daily benefactions of God, even exclusive of the one to me incomprehensible benefaction of the Atonement, are so manifest and so unutterably great, that the heart must be most insensible that is not penetrated with love and gratitude to Him. I know that you will approve of the candour of this confession, however much it may otherwise displease you. Of what good would it be to conceal my sentiments from you, as this would not change them, and it is only such frankness that can enable you to work at the conversion which you so much desire.
As for the Kantian philosophy, which you recommend me to study, I have always had a very favourable opinion of it, because it brings back the reason from the desert wastes of metaphysics into its true appointed sphere. At Barby, already, I read the Prolegomena with two good friends, but I only understood as much as can be understood without a previous knowledge of the Kritik der reinen Vernunft; and, although, in consequence of my not having been able to get the Kritik, I have not been in a position, while attending Eberhard’s lectures, to compare the Wolfian and the Kantian systems, I shall not fail to do so during the Michaelmas vacations, and with this additional advantage, that my uncle will also then read Kant’s writings, in order to learn to know from the fountain-head this, in every respect, so remarkable phenomenon. However, as far as I can as yet understand Kant, he seems to me to leave the judgment free in matters of religion; and Jacobi’s philosophy I do not yet quite understand, on account of the great obscurity and confusion of his philosophical terms; and I must once more read all the writings interchanged between him and Mendelsohn.
Theobald I will read as soon as I can get it; I have been longing to do so ever since I saw the reviews of it; but now it will be doubly interesting to me. That the author of Stilling should undertake to warn others against enthusiasm is the more praiseworthy, as in his autobiography he seems to favour enthusiasm of various kinds, if not consciously and purposely, yet by the attractive manner in which he depicts circumstances of decidedly romantic character.
My uncle told me that you also wished me to study English and French. The former language I continue with much pleasure, and in the second also I will endeavour to improve (although I have always had a certain dislike of it on account of what seems to me its frivolousness and effeminacy), because I am anxious in every way to follow your excellent advice, and to have an ever increasing right to call myself Your very dutiful Son.
The Father to the Son.
[XL.] Colony of Anhalt, 13th Dec. 1787.
MY DEAR SON,
I do not in the least doubt your assurances that you will do everything in your power to give me pleasure and to ensure your own happiness. Above all, pray diligently to God that He will Himself be your gracious guide, and open for you the way to true happiness; otherwise, my anxiety and distress on your account will increase more and more the nearer the time for the removal of your dear uncle approaches; for even if all the difficulties in the way of my fetching you from Drossen could be obviated, I should be obliged to leave you again for almost two entire months, and here you would find none of the means required for carrying on your studies. I entreat you therefore, my dear son, begin to think earnestly of your future means of livelihood. You are now nineteen years of age, and God has endowed you with faculties far beyond those of most other young men; apply these faculties more especially to perfectionizing yourself in mathematics, English, and French, in order that you may be qualified by next autumn to support yourself by giving lessons. Apply yourself more particularly to the English language, in which you have already made so good a beginning. Look out for opportunities of cultivating it as a living language—of reading aloud the best English poets, and, altogether, of becoming quite familiar with the idiom, which is at present so much liked. You are fond of it yourself; consequently, you will not find it difficult; and I trust that, if you take a little trouble in the matter, and make inquiries of the professors, and particularly of those in the Pædagogio, you will not either lack opportunity for acquiring a correct pronunciation and fluency in the language. If you will promise from the present moment to devote especial attention and industry to the acquisition of this language, so that in the autumn, if I be alive, I may, with a good conscience, recommend you as a thorough English scholar, I will, in the meantime, endeavour to get you a profitable and agreeable situation in some family of rank and importance. Answer me in regard to this as soon as you can, or as soon as you have found an opportunity of practising the language. I will then curtail my own expenses, and endeavour to send you an additional ducat per month for the next six months. You must, however, take care to obtain a correct English, and not a Scottish or Irish, pronunciation. In addition to this I would earnestly beg you not to neglect the excellent opportunities you enjoy for speaking French, so that you may not be found wanting in this so universally spoken language, although I would have you give more of your time to the English.
From your dear uncle, to whom I have written fully on the subject, you will learn my wishes relative to yourself, which will, I hope, prove to you how sincerely anxious I am about your true welfare, and induce you to act as far as possible in accordance with my intentions. Do not omit to pray for the blessing of God upon everything that you undertake, and be assured that without this you can do nothing.
The Son to the Father.
[XLI.] Halle, 1st March, 1788.
MOST BELOVED FATHER,
Each of your letters is full of new and practical proofs of your great affection and kindness towards me, and I can only hope and strive that what you do for me may not be thrown away upon an unworthy object. But, indeed, the hope you gave me that my stay in Halle may be prolonged yet another half year is even more than I ventured to expect from your last letter, and the more unexpected it was, the more delighted I am, and the more grateful to you; and I trust, more especially as this will be the winter term, that I shall improve in many things which I could not otherwise have learnt.
Lottchen—to whom I will, in accordance with your advice, write a French letter, when I return from Leipzig — also seems to be less anxious about me at present; at least in her last two letters I have not found even one little word of painful lamentation, nothing but warm, sisterly affection.
Mr. Von S—— will return home at Easter, and I will, therefore, in advance excuse myself for not having cultivated his acquaintance as much as you desired. I trust that when you have heard my reasons you will not find that I am to blame. I value him highly as a young man of real excellence and of most exemplary industry. But in Breslau already he had imbibed far too great a dose of pride of rank, which by no means makes his society attractive. However, as we ought to learn to get on with all kinds of people, this would not have kept me back, had it not been that I had so very little time to spend in social intercourse, for which reason I naturally sought those whose society had more charms for me than Mr. Von S.’s haughty manners. To these latter belong the T.’s, in whose house I had besides the same opportunities of making acquaintance with refined persons, and more particularly with young gentlemen, which was, after all, your chief object when you recommended me to cultivate the acquaintance of Mr. Von S——. However, I must confess that my intercourse with all has been of a rather distant nature, as we have met in third places only, but I consider that for me it is best that it should be so; for otherwise I might be tempted to spend more time and money than would be right, and too great an intimacy is also likely to frustrate your purpose in as far as this is the acquirement of polished manners.
It is long since my uncle determined that I should spend a few days at Leipzig during the present fair, and I am delighted that you approve of the plan. Indeed, I think it would be an unprecedented case were any one to leave Halle without having witnessed the Leipzig book-fair.
Remember me most dutifully to my dear mother, and give many kisses to my little Anna, who is so fond of me without knowing me. I further commend myself to your fatherly affection as Your dutiful Son.
The Father to the Son.
[XLII.] Anhalt, 1st September, 1788.
MY DEAR SON,
Just two months ago, namely on the 30th of June, I sent what you had asked for, and wrote to my brother-in-law. The latter has probably by this time arrived at the place of his destination, and business may have prevented him from answering me. But that I have not as yet received an answer from my dear son does surprise me, and at the same time makes me rather anxious about your health. God grant that my anxiety may soon be dissipated by the happy intelligence that you are quite well. Of ourselves I have to tell you with joy and thankfulness, that yesterday week God blessed us with a dear little daughter, who, on last Thursday, already was consecrated by holy baptism, and received the name of Sophie Caroline. Mother and child are, thank God, as well as can be expected under the circumstances. I am sure that my dear son will participate in our joy, and will, with us, thank God heartily for the mercy he has shown us.
Do write to me soon about your health, and give me a detailed account of your studies, and more particularly of how you get on in French; and tell me also what tidings you have from your uncle and what prospects for yourself. I earnestly request, my dear son, that you will inform me with entire frankness whether, with the help of God, you expect, during the winter, to make sufficient progress in the French language to be able to sustain a consecutive conversation in it. I wish to know this that I may frame my recommendations accordingly. If God grant you a good situation, you will have time enough to continue the study of other necessary sciences; but in this important language you must beforehand be quite at home. And still another request I have to make, and that is, that you will be very careful not to send me any supplementary bills, but to let me know everything frankly at once, and at the same time keep steadily in mind that I cannot possibly pay anything that exceeds your fixed allowance.
For the rest, I recommend my dear son earnestly and diligently to implore God for His gracious aid and guidance; and with hearty greetings from myself and your dear mother, I remain in hopes of speedy and good accounts, Your most affectionate Father.
The Son to the Father.
[XLIII.] Halle, 4th March, 1789.
DEARLY BELOVED FATHER,
I cannot yet boast of being quite restored to health, for various little ailments still beset me, and are accompanied by constant depression of spirits and ill humour, which your last letter was but little calculated to remove or to dissipate. I cannot deny that I have been somewhat provoked by the conduct of the two gentlemen of Breslau, and I quite share your opinion of the whole proceeding. I see distinctly that the last allusion of Mr. A——, relative to my figure, is nothing more than a pretext, by means of which he hopes to be able to draw out of the whole affair without disgrace; and although I cannot blame him for not wishing to entrust the situation of a tutor, at a venture, to a young man of whom he knows nothing, I feel but little inclined to risk much where I suspect such a crooked mode of proceeding, and I am loth to force myself, or at all events to appear to force myself, upon a man who seems to wish to keep me at a distance.
And thus, at the very moment when my fate ought to have been determined, I am in as uncertain a position as ever, and eventually I shall probably be obliged to accept the kind offer of my uncle, to go and stay with him at Drossen for a longer period than I should otherwise desire. For here I cannot in any case remain. The number of young men here who are endeavouring to make a living by means of their acquirements, is by far too great to promise success, and too many external advantages and connections are required to enable you to distinguish yourself among the number. Besides, as those who mean to devote themselves to the academy here are always specially favoured, this alone makes it doubly difficult for a member of the Reformed Church to succeed.
Through my uncle, I will make myself known in Frankfort, and perhaps I may in that way get some employment; but I am awaiting with great impatience the last remittance, which you have kindly promised, to enable me to undertake the journey thither.
The more important that the period is, at which we pass from purely contemplative life into active life—from a life of study into that life where the results of this study are to find their application, and the nearer I draw to this period, the heavier my heart feels; for I have so little prospect of being able to commence it under favourable auspices and with a cheerful look into the future; and the cares of life receive me upon the very threshold in a most dismal form and accompanied by a most disagreeable train. God grant that I may recover my cheerful spirits, so as to be able to meet them with a chance of success; and God grant me also a good dose of trust in His Providence, that I may veil under it all that looks too indistinct in the future, and which I would therefore rather not see at all.
But I must not chat with you any longer, lest the dreadful headache under which I am labouring become too apparent, and I, therefore, commend myself to your fatherly love and to your intercession with the Creator, as
Your very dutiful Son.
The Father to the Son.
[XLIV.] Anhalt, 10th December, 1789.
MY DEAR SON,
Although I did not write, I did not fail to think of you on the 21st November with a grateful heart towards God, and with the prayer which I ever address to the Father of Life, that He will preserve you and guide you, and impress deeply and permanently on your heart the consciousness of His infinite fatherly love. A serious retrospect of the years of your life, which have already gone by, would be calculated to open your heart to such wholesome impressions, more especially if you would impartially and candidly balance against each other the evil inspirations of your own heart and the loving discipline of God’s good spirit. Do this, my dear son, and beware not to overlook in your present position the many dangers and temptations to which your youth and your temperament lay you open. May your heart abhor all puerile and affected sentimentalism, and your intellect equally reject all vain love of system and all system-mongery. Depend upon it, you will make no progress in your career if now already you form to yourself a system of any kind, or accept anything but the simple truth. Recognise it rather to be your vocation to seek truth and wisdom with impartial mind, and with humble heart relying on God. Make a wise apportionment of your time, and as regards your reading—in addition to the Bible, which I now and ever recommend you to read every morning for edification, and in the original language—let yourself be guided by the advice of your dear uncle. Beware of the writings of authors who reveal the petty, selfish, and intolerant spirit, by which they are animated, in their endeavours to spread their own fame only and to force their systems upon others, under pretence of working in the venerable cause of enlightenment. The truly wise have never thought and acted in this way, but, on the contrary, the further they have penetrated in their investigations of truth, the more modest they have become and the more distrustful of themselves, holding ever in mind the deeply-rooted pride and conceit of the heart, which nourish prejudices, and thus blind the understanding. Such wholesome distrust, combined with constant and ardent inquiry and unceasing watchfulness of oneself, lead at last to that noble freedom of thought which submits to no law but that of truth.
As you do not at present lack leisure, dear son, I would be glad to have a more detailed account of the manner in which you have divided out your time and of what you have read, and are now reading, during your stay in Drossen. On one of my professional journeys, I saw, at a friend’s house, the last edition of Dr. Less’s Truth of the Christian Religion, and what I read of the book seemed to me to bear the impress of a candid, truth-loving, and truth-seeking mind. The same friend showed me and spoke highly of Mr. Müller’s Philoso- phical Essays, published by Löwe, in Leipzig, which he said were written in a truly philosophical spirit. As, in my position, I cannot allow myself to purchase books, and I cannot in this neighbourhood obtain the loan of such works, I would be glad to hear something more of these two from you, should you have an opportunity of reading them.
Your last letter gives but little hope of your obtaining a situation; and the prospect opened by Herr Von D—— seems very far off, as it is said that the old director is recovering. However, I do not in the least grudge you your present interval of leisure and preparation; on the contrary, I heartily rejoice in it, and would wish it to last much longer, if I could but assist you, so as to prevent your being entirely a burden to your uncle. At my age, however, I must begin to think of setting my house in order; and if, as appears probable, war should break out, you can still less rely upon me. I am loth to burden your heart, but I cannot withhold the truth from you, dear son; therefore, look forward to the time of need, and try hard to earn something. Should you find no opportunity, I do not know how I can help you, otherwise than by advising you, in case peace is preserved, to come hither in the spring, after first having undergone your examination in Berlin.
My daughter, in Gnadenfrei, I found cheerful and happy, and she gives me great satisfaction. From Carl she had had very cheerful letters; and I hope that I, too, shall soon hear from him. And now, dear son, I must conclude for the present, and I do it with most humble and trusting prayer to our dear heavenly Father, that for the sake of His dear Son Jesus Christ, He will glorify Himself in the new year by bestowing new blessings and new grace upon you and our whole house, and that He will grant unto us all hearts to trust in Him like little children, to be thankful to Him, and to love Him with all our might. Your mother, who, as well as our dear little ones, is, thank God, well, begs to be remembered to you, and unites in good wishes with
Your faithfully attached Father.