26 
may be formed from the following 
fragment, which, however, is somewhat 
inystically expressed :— 
The universe is a thought of God's. 
After this ideal image m his mind 
burst into reality, and the new-born 
world filled up the sketch of its creator 
—atlow me this heman representation 
—it became the vocation of ail think- 
ing beings to re-discover in the extant 
whole the original outline. To seek 
in the machine its regulator, im the 
phenomenon the law of its production, 
in composition its several unities; and 
thus to trace back the building to its 
plan or scheme, is the highest office of 
contemplation. Nature has for me but 
one phenomenon, the thinking princi- 
ple. The great composition, which we 
call the world, is to me only remarka- 
ble because it is able to indicate to 
me symbolically the various properties 
of the thinking being. Every thing 
within me, and without me, is but the 
hieroglyph of a force analogous to my 
own. The laws of nature are the cy- 
phers which the thinking being adopts 
to make himself intelligible to other 
thinking beings. They are but the 
alphabet, by means of which all spirits 
converse with the perfect spirit, and 
with each other. 
Harmony, truth, order, beauty, ex- 
cellence, give me pleasure, because 
they put me in the active state of an 
inventor, of a possessor; because they 
betray to me the presence of a reason- 
ing and feeling being, and betray to 
me my relation to that being. A new 
experment in this kingdom of truth, 
gravitation, the detected circulation of 
the blood, the classification of Linnaeus, 
are to me originally just the same as 
an antique, dug up at Hereulaneum— 
both and all reflections of a mind—new 
acquaintances with a being like my- 
self. I converse with infinitude through 
the organ of nature, threugh the his- 
tory of the world—and I read the soul 
of the artist in his Apollo.—~ 
Art thou inclinet to be convinced, 
my Raffaelle, enquire backwards. 
Every situation of the human soul finds 
a parable in the physical ereation, by 
which it is represented ; and net only 
the artists and poets, but even the most 
abstract thinkers, have drawn from this 
magazine. Lively activity we call fire ; 
- time is a’stream which rolls vehement- 
ly along; eternity is a circle; a mys- 
tery veils itself in midnight; and truth 
dwells in the sunshine. Yes, I begin 
to believe even that the future fate of 
The German Student, No. XXEI.—Schiller. 
(Keb: I, 
the human mind is announced before- 
hand by the oracle of creation. Every 
coming spring, whieh drives the sprouts 
of the plants from the lap of earth, 
gives an explanation ef the anxious 
riddie of death, and refuses my appre- 
hensions of an eternal sleep. The 
swallow, which we find torpid in the 
winter, and behold reviving with the 
vernal season, the dead grab, which 
rises rejuvenated inte the air as a but- 
terfly, afferd us a striking emblem of 
our immortality. 
How notice-worthy does every thing 
pow become! Now, Raffaefle. all is 
znimated around me, There is for me 
no longer a desert any wiiere in nature. 
Wherever I discover a body, I infer a 
spirit. Wherever F observe motion, 
presume thought. Where no corpse 
lies buried. where no resurreetion im- 
pends, ommipotence speaks to me 
through her works, and I understand 
the doctrine of the omnipresence of 
God. 
All spirits are attracted. by perfection. 
All—there may be deviations, but there 
is no single exception—all strive after 
the condition of the highest free evolu- 
tion of their forees; all possess the 
common instinct to extend their acti- 
vity, to draw every thing to themselves, 
to collect within themselves, to appro- 
priate whatever they recognize as good, 
as excellent, as charming. Intuition 
of the beautiful, of the true, of the ex- 
cellent, is instantaneous appropriation 
ef these qualities. Whatever situation 
we perceive, into that we pass. At the 
moment when we imagine them, we 
are partakers of virtue, authors of ae- 
tion, discoverers of truth. enjoyers of 
happiness. We, ourselves, become the 
ebjeet we contemplate. Do not puzzle 
me here, Raffaetle, with aw equivoeal 
smile; this assumpiion is that on 
which F build my consequences, and we 
must be agreed in grasping it, if IT am 
to have the courage to complete my 
scheme. 
Internat feeling betrays to every one 
something of this kind. If, for in- 
stance, we are admiring an act of ge- 
nerosity, bravery, or prudence, does 
not a secret consciousness stir within 
us that we are able to do the like? 
Does not the glowing blush which eo- 
lours our cheek at (be narration of suel: 
a deed, betray that our modesty trem- 
bles at the idea of all miration ; that we 
are embarrassed under the praise which 
this ennoblement of our nature is to 
prepare? Yes, our beady itself conforms 
at 
