this and nothing more have we to say of him, * Original, " Studirte," one who has studied, — contrasted with " Studirende," one who studies. We have no single equivalent for " Studirte" in English. — TR.
for his business is no true Scholar employment. We leave him to the sure guidance of that general In tegrity and faithfulness to Duty which already, during his studies, have become the innermost principle of his life.
Such an one, by renunciation of the peculiar calling of the Scholar, shows that he looks upon it as sacred; he also, who with honesty and a good conscience ac cepts this calling, in any of its forms or divisions, shows by his actions and by his whole life that he looks upon it as sacred. How this recognition of the Holy spe cially manifests itself in each particular department of the Scholar's vocation, the divisions of which we have already fully set forth, — of this we shall speak in succession in the subsequent lectures. To-day we shall confine ourselves to showing how it manifests and reveals itself in general, — i. e. to that form of its manifestation which is common to all the departments of the Scholar's vocation.
The true-minded Scholar will not admit of any life and activity within him except the immediate life and activity of the Divine Idea. This unchangeable prin ciple pervades and determines all his inward thoughts; • — it also pervades and determines all his outward actions. With respect to the first, — as he suffers no emotion within him that is not the direct emotion and life of the Divine Idea which has taken possession of him, so is his whole life accompanied by the indestruc tible consciousness that it is at one with the Divine Life, — that in him and by him God's work shall be achieved and His Will accomplished; he therefore re poses on that Will with unspeakable love, and with the immovable conviction that it is right and good.
Thus does his thought become holy, enlightened, and religious; blessedness arises within him, — and in it, changeless joy, peace, and power, — in the same way as these may be acquired and enjoyed by the unlearned, and even the lowliest among men, through true devo tion to God, and honest performance of duty viewed as the "Will of God. Hence, these are no exclusive property of the Scholar, but are only noticed here with the view that he too may become a partaker in this religious aspect of life, and become so by the way which we have pointed out.
This principle pervades the conduct of the True Scholar. He has no other purpose in action but to express his Idea, and embody the truth which he re cognises, in word or work. No personal regard, either for himself or others, can impel him to do that which is not demanded by this purpose, — no such regard can cause him to neglect anything which is required by this purpose. His person, and all personality in the world, have long since vanished from before him, and entirely disappeared in his effort after the realiza tion of the Idea. The Idea alone impels him; where it does not move him, he rests and remains inactive. He does nothing with precipitation, hurried forward by disquietude and restlesness; these may well be symtoms of unfolding power, but they are never to be found in conjunction with true, developed, mature and manly strength. Until the Idea stands before him clear and breathing, finished and perfect even to word or deed, nothing moves him to action; the Idea rules him entirely, governs all his powers, and exhausts all his life and effort. To its manifestation he devotes his whole personal being without reserve or intermission, for he looks upon his life only as the instrument of the Idea.
Would that I could make myself intelligible to you, —would that I could persuade you, — touching this one point which we now approach on every side! — Whatever man may do, so long as he does it from himself as a finite being, by himself, and through his own counsel, — it is vain, and will sink to nothing. Only when a foreign power takes possession of him, and urges him forward, and lives within him in room of his own energy, does true and real existence first take up its abode in his life. This foreign power is ever the power of God. To look up to it for counsel, — implicitly to follow its guidance, — is the only true wisdom in every employment of human life, and there fore most of all in the highest occupation of which man can partake, — the vocation of the True Scholar.
Ff3 ( 330 ) OF THE SCHOLAR AS RULER.
HE in whom Learned Culture has actually accom plished its end, — the attainment and possession of the Idea, — shows, by the manner in which he regards and practises the calling of the Scholar, that his vocation is to him, before all other things, honourable and holy. The Idea in its relation to the progressive improve ment of the world, can be expressed — either, first, in actual life and conduct; or, secondly, in ideas only. It is expressed in the first mode by those who, as the highest free leaders of men, originally guide and order their affairs, — their relations with each other or the legal condition, and their relation to passive nature or the dominion of reason over the irrational world; — who possesses the right and calling, either by them selves or in concert with others, to think, judge, and resolve independently concerning the actual arrange ment of these relations. We have to speak to-day of the worthy conception and practice of this vocation. As we have already taken precautions against misun derstanding by a strict definition of our meaning, we shall, for brevity's sake, term those who practise this calling — Rulers.
The business of the Ruler has been described in our early lectures, — and so definitely, that no further analysis is necessary for our present purpose. We have only to show what capacities and talents must be pos sessed by the true Ruler, — by what estimate of his calling, and what mode of practising it, he proves that he looks upon it as sacred.
He who nndpTtalfpsj tojruidc his Age_and order its fj__ahnyj' it, — must not merely possess an historical knowledge of it, but must thoroughly understand and comprehend it. The Ruler possesses, in the first place, a living and comprehensive idea of that department of human life which he under takes to superintend, and knows what is its essential nature, meaning, and purpose. Further, he perfectly understands the changing and adventitious forms which it may assume in reality, without prejudice to its in ward nature. He knows the particular form which it has assumed at the present time, and through what new forms it must be led nearer and nearer to its unattainable Ideal. No part of its present condition is, in his view, necessary and unchangeable, but is only an incidental point in a progression by which it is con stantly rising towards higher perfection. He knows the Whole,, of which his own province is a part, and of which every improvement of the latter must still remain a part; and he never loses sight of this Whole in con templating the improvement of individual parts. This knowledge gives to his inventive faculty the means of accomplishing the improvements he may devise; the same knowledge secures him from the mistake of dis organizing the Whole by supposed improvements of individual parts. His eye always combines the part with the Whole, and the idea of the latter with its actual manifestation in reality.
He who does not look upon human affairs with this unfettered glance, is never a lluler, whatever station he may occupy, — nor can he ever become one. Even his mode of thought, his faith in the unchangeableness of the present, places him in a state of subordination, makes him an instrument of him who created that arrangement of things in the permanence of which he believes. This frequently happens; and thus all times have not actual Rulers. Great spirits of the fore- world often rule over succeeding Ages long after their death, by means of men who are nothing in themselves, but are only continuations and prolongations of their life. Very often too, this is no misfortune; but those who desire to penetrate human life with deeper insight ought to know that these are not true Rulers, and that under them the Age does not move forward, but rests, — perhaps to gain strength for new creations.
The Ruler, I said, thoroughly comprehends the de partment which he undertakes to superintend; he knows the essential character and idea of all its indi vidual members, and looks upon it as the absolute will of God with man. It is not to him a means to the attainment of any end whatever, nor in particular to the production of human happiness; but he looks upon it as in itself an end, — as the absolute mode, order, and form in which the human race should live.
Thus, in the first place, is his occupation ennobled and dignified in proportion to the nobility of his mode of thought. To direct all his thoughts and efforts, and devote his whole life to such a purpose as the fol lowing, — that mortal men may fall out as little as possible with each other in the short span of time during which they have to live together, that they may have somewhat to eat and drink, and wherewithal to clothe themselves, until they make way for another generation, which again shall eat, and drink, and clothe itself, — this business would appear to a noble mind a vocation most unworthy of its nature. The Ruler, after our idea of him, is secure against this view of his calling. Through the idea which he has formed of his own vocation, the Race among whom he prac tises it is likewise ennobled. He who has constantly to keep in view the infirmities and weaknesses of men, who has to guide their daily course, and who has frequent opportunities of observing their general mean ness and corruption, and who sees nothing more than these, cannot be much disposed to honour or to love them; and indeed those powerful spirits who have filled the most prominent places among men, but have not been penetrated by true religious feeling, have at no time been known to bestow much honour or respect upon their Race.- The Ruler, after our idea of him, in his estimate of mankind looks beyond that which they are in the actual world, to that which they are in the Divine Idea — to that which therefore they may be, ought to be, and one day assuredly will be; and he is thus filled with reverence for a race called to so high a destiny. Love is not required of him; nay, if you think deeper of it, it is even a kind of ar rogance for a Ruler to presume to love the whole Human Race, or even his own nation, — to assure it of his love, and, as it were, make it dependent on his kindness. A Ruler such as we have described is free from such presumption: his reverence for humanity, as the image and protected child of God, does more than overpower it.
He looks upon his vocation as the Divine Will with regard to the Human Race; he looks upon its practice as the Divine Will with regard to himself — the present individual; he recognises in himself one of the first and immediate servants of God, — one of the material organs through which God communicates with reality.
Not that this thought excites him to vain self-exalta tion; — he who is governed by the Idea has in it lost his personality, and he has no longer remaining any feeling of self, except that of employing his personal existence truly and conscientiously in his high voca tion. He knows well that he has not bestowed upon himself this intuition of the Idea and the power which accompanies it, but that he has received them; he knows that he can add nothing to what has been given him except its honest and conscientious use; he knows that the humblest of men can do this in the same degree as he himself can do it, and that the latter has the same value in the sight of God which he him self should have in the same station. All outward rank and elevation above other men which have been given, not to his person but to his dignity, and which are only conditions of the possession of this dignity, — these will not dazzle him who seeks to deserve higher and more substantial distinctions. In a word: — he looks upon his occupation, not as a friendly service which he renders to the world, but as his absolute personal duty and obligation, by the performance of which alone he obtains, maintains, and repays his per sonal existence, and without which he would dwindle into nothing.
This view of his occupation as the Divine Will in him, supports and acquits him before himself in an important difficulty, which must very often occur to him who conscientiously follows this calling, and makes his step firm, determined, and unwavering. In no cir cumstances indeed should the individual, considered strictly as an individual, be sacrificed to the Whole; however unimportant the individual, however great the Whole, and the interest of the Whole which is at stake. The parts of the Whole must often be placed in peril on account of the Whole; but this danger is de termined, not by the Ruler, but by the nature of the danger itself, which selects its victims from among individual men. How could a Ruler who is conscious of no other destiny for the Human Race but happiness here below, and looks upon himself only as the kind guardian of that happiness, — how could he answer before his conscience for the danger and consequent ruin of any individual victim, since that individual must have had as good a claim to happiness as any other? How could such a Ruler, for example, answer before his conscience for determining upon a just war, — a war undertaken for the support of the national independence threatened either immediately or prospectively? — for the victims who should fall in such a war, and for the manifold evils thereby inflicted on humanity? The Ruler who sees a Divine Purpose in his vocation stands firm and immovable before all these doubts, overtaken by no unmanly weakness. Is the war just? — then it is the Will of God that there should be war; and it is God's will with him that he resolve upon it. AVhatever fall a sacrifice to it, it is still the Divine Will that chooses the sacrifice. God has the most perfect right over all human life and human hap piness, for both have proceeded from him, and both return to him; and in his creation nothing can be lost. So in the business of legislation. There must be a general law, and this law must be administered abso lutely without exception. The universality of the law cannot be given up for the sake of one individual who thinks his case so peculiar that he is aggrieved by the strict enforcement of the law, even although his alle gation may have some truth in it. Let him bring the small injustice which is done to himself as an offering to the general support of justice among men.
The Divine Idea, ruling in the Ruler, and through him moulding the condition of his age and nation, now becomes his sole and peculiar Life; — which indeed is the case with the Idea under any form in which it may enter the soul of man; — he cannot have, nor permit, nor endure, any Life within him except this Life. He comprehends this Life with clear consciousness as the immediate life and energy of God within him, as the fulfilment of the Divine Will in and by his person. It is unnecessary to repeat the proofs which we have already adduced in general, that through this con sciousness his thought is sanctified, transfigured, and bathed in the Divinity. Every man needs Religion, — every man may acquire it, — and with it every man obtains Blessedness; — most of all, as we have seen above, does the ruler need it. Unless he clothe his calling in the light of Religion, he can never pursue it with a good conscience, Without this, nothing re mains for him but either thoughtlessness and a mere mechanical fulfilment of his vocation, without giving account to himself of its reasonableness or justice; or if not thoughtlessness, — then want of principle, obdu racy, insensibility, hatred and contempt of the Human Race.
The Idea, thus moulded on the Divine Life, lives in his life instead of his own personality. It alone moves him, — nothing else in its room. His personality has long since disappeared in the Idea, — how then can any motive now arise from it? He lives in honour, transfused in the Divinity to work his Eternal "Will, — how then can fame, the judgment of mortal and per ishable men, have any significance for him? Devoted to the Idea with his whole being, — how can he ever wish to pamper or to spare himself? His person, — all personality, — has disappeared in the Divine Idea_ of universal order. That order is his ever-present thought; only through it does he conceive of individual men: hence neither friend nor foe, neither favourite nor ad versary, finds a place before him; but all alike, and he himself with them, are lost for ever in the thought of the independence and equality of all.
The Idea alone moves him, — and where it does not move him, there he has no life, but remains quiescent and inactive. He will never rouse himself to energy and labour only that something may come to pass, or that he may gain a reputation for activity; for his de sire is not merely that something may come to pass, but that the will of the Idea may be accomplished. Until it speaks, he too is silent; — he has no voice but for it. He does not respect old things because they are old; — but as little does he desire novelty for its own sake. He looks for what is better and more per fect than the present; until this rises before him clearly and distinctly, — so long as change would lead only Gg to difference, not improvement, — he remains inactive, and concedes to the old the privilege it derives from ancient possession.
In this way does the Idea possess and pervade him without intermission or reserve, and there remains nothing either of his person or his life that does not burn a perpetual offering before its altar. And thus is he the most direct manifestation of God in the world.
That there is a God, is made evident by a very little serious reflection upon the outward world. We must end at last by resting all existence which demands an extrinsic foundation, upon a Being the fountain of whose life is within Himself; by allying the fugitive phenomena which colour the stream of time with everchanging hues, to an eternal and unchanging essence. But in the life of Divine Men the Godhead is manifest in the flesh, reveals itself to immediate vision, and is perceptible even to outward sense. In their life the unchangeableness of God manifests itself in the firmness and intrepidity of human will which no power can force from its destined path. In it the essential light of the Divinity manifests itself in human comprehen sion of all finite things in the One which endures for ever. In it the energy of God reveals itself, not in directly surrounding the Human Race with happiness — which is not its object — but in ordering, elevating, and ennobling it. A Godlike life is the most decisive proof which man can give of the being of a God.
It is the business of all mankind to see that the conviction of the Divine Existence, without which the very essence of their own being dwindles into nothing, shall never perish and disappear from among them; — above all, it is the business of the Kulers, as the highest disposers of human affairs. It is not their part to bring forward the theoretical proof from human reason, or to regulate the mode in which this proof shall be adduced by the second class of Scholars; on the contrary, the practical proof, in their own lives, and that in the highest degree, devolves peculiarly upon them. If firm and intrepid will, — if clear and all-comprehensive vision, — if a spirit of order and nobility speak to us in their conduct, then in their works do we see God face to face, and need no other proof: — GOD is, we will say, — for they are, and He in them.
(340 ) OF THE SCHOLAR AS TEACHER.
BESIDES those possessors of the Idea, whose business it is, by guiding and ordering the affairs of men, to introduce the Idea immediately into life, there is yet another class — those, namely, who are peculiarly and by preeminence called Scholars, who manifest the Idea directly in spiritual conceptions, and whose calling it is to maintain among men the conviction that there is, in truth, a Divine Idea accessible to human thought, to raise this Idea unceasingly to greater clearness and precision, and thus to transmit it from generation to generation fresh and radiant in ever-renewed youth.
This latter Vocation again divides itself into two very different callings, according to the primary object contemplated by them, and the mode of its attainment. Either the minds of men are to be trained and culti vated to a capacity for receiving the Idea; or the Idea itself is to be produced in a definite form for those who are already prepared for its reception. The first calling has particular men for its primary and imme diate objects; — in it the only use which is made of the Idea is as a means of training and cultivating these men who are its primary objects, so that they may become capable of comprehending the Idea by their own independent effort. It follows that, in this call ing, regard must be paid solely to the men who are to be cultivated, the degree of their cultivation, and their capacity of being cultivated; and that an influ ence is only valuable here, in so far as it may be effi ciently applied to those individuals upon whom it is directed. The second has for its object the Idea itself, and the fashioning of the Idea into distinct conceptions, and has no reference whatever to any subjective dis position or capacity of men; its business is prosecuted with no view to any but those who are capable of comprehending the Idea in the form thus given to it; the work itself settles and determines who shall receive it, and it is only addressed to those who can compre hend it. The first object will be best and most fitly attained by the verbal discourses of the Teacher; the second by literary writings.
Both of these callings belong to the vocation of the Scholar in its proper and highest sense, and not to the subordinate Scholar -occupations, which only devolve upon a man because he has not attained the proper end of his studies. He who prosecutes his studies conscientiously, and so acquires a conviction of the importance of the vocation of the Scholar, but yet does not feel within himself a clear consciousness of the capacity to fulfil it, shows that he recognises its sacred character, by not undertaking it; — he who does undertake it, manifests the same conviction by exer cising it worthily. In the next lecture we shall speak of the true Author; to-day we shah1 discourse of the upright Teacher of future Scholars.
The Teachers and Educators of those who devote themselves to the occupation of the Scholar may be G cr 2 divided into two classes, and that on good grounds; namely, they are Teachers either in the lower Schools of learning, or in the higher or Universities. Not with out deliberation do I class the Teachers in the lower Schools among true and not subaltern Scholars, and therefore demand of them that they attain possession of the Idea, and be penetrated by it, — if not with perfect light, yet with living warmth. He who is destined to study will, even while a boy, surround himself invisibly with the Idea and with its sanctity, and bathe his whole being in its influence. Nothing from which any ideal result may one day unfold itself, will be pursued by him as a piece of vulgar handicraft, and used as a means to the attainment of a partial object. Happily the objects which are peculiar to these Schools are of such a nature as to elevate him who pursues them conscientiously, and through him those who are com mitted to his care, above vulgar modes of thought; —did but the outward circumstances of the Teacher answer to his dignity, and his independence and station in society correspond with his most honourable calling.
The objects of school-instruction, I said. In a funda mental study of Language, pursued, as it must be, amid old modes of speech, far removed from our habits of thought, a deeper insight into ideas is gained; and from the works of the Ancients, by means of which this study is pursued, an excellent and ennobling spirit speaks to the youthful mind. For this reason, the Teacher in these lower Schools should be a partaker of the Idea, because he has imperceptibly to familiarize the youth with the high and noble, before the latter is able to distinguish these from the vulgar, — to accustom him to these, and to estrange him from the low and ignoble. Thus guarded in his early years, and thus prepared for higher progress, the youth enters the University. Here, for the first time, can he be clearly taught and led to comprehend and acknowledge — that which I have endeavoured to utter to you in these lectures, — that our whole race has its only true ex istence in the Divine Thought, — that its only worth consists in its harmony with this Divine Thought, — and that the class of Scholars has therein an existence, to the end that they may comprehend this Divine Thought, and imprint it on the world. At the Uni versity the Student first receives a clear idea of the nature and dignity of that vocation to which his life has been devoted beforehand. He must obtain that clear idea here: — the Teacher in the lower Schools may look forward to another education for his pupils, and he counts upon that; but the Academic Teacher has no more extensive instruction to calculate upon for them, except that which the Progressive Scholar may bestow upon himself, — to the capacity for which, how ever, the Teacher must train him so that he may have it in his power to become his own instructor; — once released from the lecture-room, he is committed to himself and to the world. Herein, therefore, lies the characteristic difference between the lower and the higher Schools, — that at the lower School the youth has only a presentiment of his vocation, while at the University he clearly comprehends and recognises it; — and from this difference the specific duties of the Teacher in the respective institutions may easily be deduced.
The Academic Teacher, of whom chiefly we have to speak, ought to train the Student who has already