The Blue Flower Read Online Free PDF Page A

murmured the Bernhard. ‘What is he saying?’ asked poor Auguste.
    She was right, however, in believing that with the French Revolution her troubles would be greatly increased. Her husband had not absolutely forbidden the appearance of newspapers in the house, so that she would be able to say to herself, ‘It is only that he wants not to catch sight of them at table, or in his study.’ For some other way had to be devised by which he could satisfy his immense curiosity about the escapades of the French which meant - if she was to tell the truth - nothing to her whatsoever. At the Saline offices, she supposed, and at the club - the Literary and Scientific Athenaeum of Weissenfels - he would hear the topics of the day discussed, but she knew, with the insight of long habit, so much more reliable than love, that whatever had happened would not be real to him - that he would not be able to feel he truly possessed it until he had seen it on the grey pages of a daily newspaper. ‘Another time, dear Fritz, when you give your greatcoat to the servants to be brushed, you could leave your newspaper showing, just a few inches.’
    ‘Mother, after all these years you don’t know my Father. He has said he will not read the paper, and he will not.’
    ‘But Fritz, how will he inform himself? The Brethrenwon’t tell him anything, they don’t speak to him of worldly matters.’
    ‘ Weiss Gott !’ said Fritz. ‘Osmosis, perhaps.’

8
In Jena
    T HE Freiherr thought it best for his eldest son to be educated in the German manner, at as many universities as possible: Jena for a year, Leipzig for a year, by which time Erasmus would be old enough to join him, then a year at Wittenberg to study law, so that he would be able, if occasion arose, to protect whatever property the family had left through the courts. He was also to begin on theology, and on the constitution of the Electorate of Saxony. Instead of these subjects, Fritz registered for history and philosophy.
    As a result he attended on his very first morning in Jena a lecture by Johann Gottlieb Fichte. Fichte was speaking of the philosophy of Kant, which, fortunately, he had been able to improve upon greatly. Kant believed in the external world. Even though it is only known to us through our senses and our own experience, still, it is there. This, Fichte was saying, was nothing but an old man’s weakness. We are all free to imagine what the world is like, and since we probably all imagine itdifferently, there is no reason at all to believe in the fixed reality of things.
    Before Fichte’s gooseberry eyes the Students, who had the worst reputation for unruliness in Germany, cowered, transformed into frightened schoolboys. ‘Gentlemen! withdraw into yourselves! Withdraw into your own mind!’ Arrogant and drunken in their free time, they waited, submissive. Each unhooked the little penny inkwell on a spike from behind a lapel of his jacket. Some straightened up, some bowed themselves over, closing their eyes. A few trembled with eagerness. ‘Gentlemen, let your thought be the wall.’ All were intent. ‘Have you thought the wall?’ asked Fichte. ‘Now, then, gentlemen, let your thought be that that thought the wall.’
    Fichte was the son of a linen-weaver, and in politics a Jacobin. His voice carried without effort. ‘The gentleman in the fourth seat from the left at the back, who has the air of being in discomfort …’
    A wretched youth rose to his feet.
    ‘Herr Professor, that is because the chairs in the lecture-rooms of Jena are made for those with short legs.’
    ‘My appointment as Professor will not be confirmed until next May. You are permitted to ask one question.’
    ‘Why …?’
    ‘Speak up!’
    ‘Why do we imagine that the wall is as we see it, and not as something other?’
    Fichte replied, ‘We create the world not out of our imagination, but out of our sense of duty. We need the world so that we may have the greatest possible number of