Volume Ii Part 19 (2/2)
Thus Christianity, against its will, was compelled to aid in making ”the antique world” immortal.-There remains, however, a counter-question and the possibility of a counter-reckoning. Without this weakening through the poisoning referred to, would any of those fresh stocks-the Germans, for instance-have been in a position gradually to find by themselves a higher, a peculiar, a new culture, of which the most distant conception would therefore have been lost to humanity?-In this, as in every case, we do not know, Christianly speaking, whether G.o.d owes the devil or the devil G.o.d more thanks for everything having turned out as it has.
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FAITH MAKES HOLY AND CONDEMNS.-A Christian who happened upon forbidden paths of thought might well ask himself on some occasion whether it is really necessary that there should be a G.o.d, side by side with a representative Lamb, if faith in the existence of these beings suffices to produce the same influences? If they do exist after all, are they not superfluous beings? For all that is given by the Christian religion to the human soul, all that is beneficent, consoling, and edifying, just as much as all that depresses and crushes, emanates from that faith and not from the objects of that faith. It is here as in another well-known case-there were indeed no witches, but the terrible effects of the belief in witches were the same as if they really had existed. For all occasions where the Christian awaits the immediate intervention of a G.o.d, though in vain (for there is no G.o.d), his religion is inventive enough to find subterfuges and reasons for tranquillity. In so far Christianity is an ingenious religion.-Faith, indeed, has up to the present not been able to move real mountains, although I do not know who a.s.sumed that it could. But it can put mountains where there are none.
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THE TRAGI-COMEDY OF REGENSBURG.-Here and there we see with terrible clearness the harlequinade of Fortune, how she fastens the rope, on which she wills that succeeding centuries should dance, on to a few days, one place, the condition and opinions of one brain. Thus the fate of modern German history lies in the days of that disputation at Regensburg: the peaceful settlement of ecclesiastical and moral affairs, without religious wars or a counter-reformation, and also the unity of the German nation, seemed a.s.sured: the deep, gentle spirit of Contarini hovered for one moment over the theological squabble, victorious, as representative of the riper Italian piety, reflecting the morning glory of intellectual freedom.
But Luther's hard head, full of suspicions and strange misgivings, showed resistance. Because justification by grace appeared to him _his_ greatest motto and discovery, he did not believe the phrase in the mouth of Italians; whereas, in point of fact, as is well known, they had invented it much earlier and spread it throughout Italy in deep silence. In this apparent agreement Luther saw the tricks of the devil, and hindered the work of peace as well as he could, thereby advancing to a great extent the aims of the Empire's foes.-And now, in order to have a still stronger idea of the dreadful farcicality of it all, let us add that none of the principles about which men then disputed in Regensburg-neither that of original sin, nor that of redemption by proxy, nor that of justification by faith-is in any way true or even has any connection with truth: that they are now all recognised as incapable of being discussed. Yet on this account the world was set on fire-that is to say, by opinions which correspond to no things or realities; whereas as regards purely philological questions-as, for instance, that of the sacramental words in the Eucharist-discussion at any rate is permitted, because in this case the truth can be said. But ”where nothing is, even truth has lost her right.”(15)-Lastly, it only remains to be said that it is true these principles give rise to sources of power so mighty that without them all the mills of the modern world could not be driven with such force. And it is primarily a matter of force, only secondarily of truth (and perhaps not even secondarily)-is it not so, my dear up-to-date friends?
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GOETHE'S ERRORS.-Goethe is a signal exception among great artists in that he did not live within the limited confines of his real capacity, as if that must be the essential, the distinctive, the unconditional, and the last thing in him and for all the world. Twice he intended to possess something higher than he really possessed-and went astray in the second half of his life, where he seems quite convinced that he is one of the great scientific discoverers and illuminators. So too in the first half of his life he demanded of himself something higher than the poetic art seemed to him-and here already he made a mistake. That nature wished to make him a plastic artist,-_this_ was his inwardly glowing and scorching secret, which finally drove him to Italy, that he might give vent to his mania in this direction and make to it every possible sacrifice. At last, shrewd as he was, and honestly averse to any mental perversion in himself, he discovered that a tricksy elf of desire had attracted him to the belief in this calling, and that he must free himself of the greatest pa.s.sion of his heart and bid it farewell. The painful conviction, tearing and gnawing at his vitals, that it was necessary to bid farewell, finds full expression in the character of Ta.s.so. Over Ta.s.so, that Werther intensified, hovers the premonition of something worse than death, as when one says: ”Now it is over, after this farewell: how shall I go on living without going mad?” These two fundamental errors of his life gave Goethe, in face of a purely literary att.i.tude towards poetry (the only att.i.tude then known to the world), such an unembarra.s.sed and apparently almost arbitrary position. Not to speak of the period when Schiller (poor Schiller, who had no time himself and left no time to others) drove away his shy dread of poetry, his fear of all literary life and craftsmans.h.i.+p, Goethe appears like a Greek who now and then visits his beloved, doubting whether she be not a G.o.ddess to whom he can give no proper name. In all his poetry one notices the inspiring neighbourhood of plastic art and Nature. The features of these figures that floated before him-and perhaps he always thought he was on the track of the metamorphoses of one G.o.ddess-became, without his will or knowledge, the features of all the children of his art. Without the extravagances of error he would not have been Goethe-that is, the only German artist in writing who has not yet become out of date-just because he desired as little to be a writer as a German by vocation.
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TRAVELLERS AND THEIR GRADES.-Among travellers we may distinguish five grades. The first and lowest grade is of those who travel and are seen-they become really travelled and are, as it were, blind. Next come those who really see the world. The third cla.s.s experience the results of their seeing. The fourth weave their experience into their life and carry it with them henceforth. Lastly, there are some men of the highest strength who, as soon as they have returned home, must finally and necessarily work out in their lives and productions all the things seen that they have experienced and incorporated in themselves.-Like these five species of travellers, all mankind goes through the whole pilgrimage of life, the lowest as purely pa.s.sive, the highest as those who act and live out their lives without keeping back any residue of inner experiences.
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IN CLIMBING HIGHER.-So soon as we climb higher than those who hitherto admired us, we appear to them as sunken and fallen. For they imagined that under all circ.u.mstances they were on the heights in our company (maybe also through our agency).
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MEASURE AND MODERATION.-Of two quite lofty things, measure and moderation, it is best never to speak. A few know their force and significance, from the mysterious paths of inner experiences and conversions: they honour in them something quite G.o.dlike, and are afraid to speak aloud. All the rest hardly listen when they are spoken about, and think the subjects under discussion are tedium and mediocrity. We must perhaps except those who have once heard a warning note from that realm but have stopped their ears against the sound. The recollection of it makes them angry and exasperated.
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