Yesterday's Spirit and Today's Spirit

From¹

In 1894, however, his figure appeared before me in a very peculiar way in the archive, in his absence. The preface to the fifth edition of his Goethe book had just been published. In it, Herman Grimm had discussed how, while working on these lectures and also afterwards, he was in friendly contact with personalities whose interest was particularly focused on Goethe. They were the literary historian Julian Schmidt, who wrote the witty book on the history of modern German intellectual life, Gustav von Loeper, the meritorious editor of Goethe's works, and Wilhelm Scherer, the professor of German literary history at the University of Berlin. Herman Grimm felt completely in harmony with the first two, although he and each of the other two took different approaches to Goethe. It was different with Scherer. He maintained a friendship with him in public. After Scherer's untimely death, he wrote in this preface, after assuring us how well he had gotten along with Julian Schmidt and Loeper: “It was only much later that Wilhelm Scherer, called from Strasbourg, permanently settled in Berlin. He was decades younger than the three of us from northern Germany. Coming from Vienna. Due to his position as officially appointed professor of German literature, he was also our superior when it came to matters specifically concerning Goethe. A youthful, aggressive, ruthless spirit who, in contrast to the three of us, was most familiar with the teachings of the Lachmann-Hauptian school, not only applied the so-called 'scientific method' of this school with ease, but was also willing to defend it vigorously. The three of us older ones took as our starting point Goethe's personality, Scherer the manuscripts and versions of his works. Above all, Scherer demanded a 'clean text'. 'Every text', was his teaching, 'is corrupted: it is a matter of editing it so that it can be relied upon'. There were means to effect this editing, and he knew them well. The three of us didn't care about them."

This characterization of Wilhelm Scherer was the subject of discussion one day immediately after the publication of the preface, in the presence of several personalities who were visiting the archive at the time and who were mostly unconditional admirers of the literary historian in question. Erich Schmidt, Scherer's most celebrated student and his successor as a teacher in Berlin, was also present. It was quite a heated scene. Everyone was extremely annoyed. “Every text is corrupted: it is important to edit it in such a way that it can be safely relied upon.” That was supposed to be Scherer's teaching. People felt that this was nonsense and called it that. Well, in terms of content, there was really hardly anything to be said against what Erich Schmidt and the others said. They were right – not only from their point of view.

For me, the hour was painful. In my mind's eye, I saw the figure of Herman Grimm, the brilliant, spirited art historian, the creator of luminous ideas that I so loved. He had written something here that was rightly called “annoying nonsense”.

But what was actually at issue? A school of thought had developed in literary history that viewed poetic creations in their historical context in such a way that the “positivist-scientific” method, which had been so successfully developed at the time, was applied. A peak in human intellectual development was to be explored as one had become accustomed to doing in the natural sciences. Wilhelm Scherer was the most energetic representative of this research. Natural science was on the way to completely losing the spiritual in its statements; now the study of the human spirit was to follow its ideal. The research in literary history could only have to do with facts that were outwardly related to the true becoming of the human spirit. This was a path that could only be uncanny to Herman Grimm. He wanted to follow the development of the spirit, even if only in a way related to abstract idealism. But this way, like all abstract idealism, was unable to withstand the onslaught of the unspiritual methods of natural science. This was expressed in Herman Grimm's personal behavior. He could find no effective words to express his instinctive aversion to Scherer's method. He only had the feeling of something bad. And so he characterized Scherer's “teaching” by saying something absurd. As if he had wanted to say: I don't know what actually underlies it; but it seems to me so absurd, as if one had to make the poet's texts through all sorts of critical methods.

This is the attitude of the spiritual researchers of the second half of the nineteenth century towards a spirit-denying science. These spiritual researchers did not have the living spirit, but only its ideational thought-shadows. With this they could still talk about art, history and so on, but they could not form a thorough judgment about the value of the current science. A representative of this “current science” once said to me: Herman Grimm is not a serious scientific worker, but a spiritual walker.

Only a spiritual science that strives for the living spirit can rediscover the spirit in the study of nature and then also give it back to the study of art, history and so on.

With the beautiful, luminous shadow-form of thoughts, Herman Grimm stood, as if spellbound, between a spiritual and a spirit-denying world view.

In the chapter of his Goethe book in which Herman Grimm discusses Goethe's relationship to knowledge of nature, we find the revelation of this perplexity. He says: “The Mosaic story of creation culminates in man, who enters as the beneficiary of everything that has come before... and Christianity elevates man to the purpose of creation in such a way that without him the world would be meaningless. The natural sciences rose up against this view. Astronomy opened the fight by recognizing the Earth, which was thought to be the center of the world system, as only a secondary star, thereby degrading its ruling inhabitants... Herman Grimm only manages a kind of aesthetic indignation at the scientific way of thinking. He says of the Kant-Laplace hypothesis: “From the rotating nebula - which children already learn about at school - the central drop of gas forms, from which the Earth will later develop, and, as a solidifying sphere, goes through all phases, including the episode of habitation by the human , to finally plunge back into the sun as burnt-out cinders: a long process, but one that is perfectly comprehensible to today's audience, and one that no longer requires any external intervention to come about, except for the effort of some external force to maintain the sun at the same temperature. No more fruitless prospect for the future can be imagined than the one that is supposed to be scientifically necessary for us today. A carrion bone that a hungry dog would go around is refreshingly appetizing compared to this last excrement of creation, as which our Earth would finally fall back to the Sun...

Not so long ago, one was entitled to the opinion that the contemplation of nature could receive an impetus towards the spiritual through the further development of a way of thinking like that of Herman Grimm. Today, however, it is clear that the power of this way of thinking is no longer alive anywhere. And if Herman Grimm were still alive today, he would have to realize that not only natural science must be pursued to the point of contemplating the spiritual, but that all historical considerations must also be pursued from the mental shadows of the spirit to the living and active spiritual entities.