non is the expression of a divine thought. Fischer's keen analysis shows how, in spite of occasional tendencies to materialism, scepticism, and pessimism, this æsthetical ideal prevails in Schiller's compositions, and ultimately triumphs in Die Künstler. With an examination of the latter poem the volume before us closes.
It is interesting to watch the struggle between the poetical fancy of the man and his materialistic doubts. Die philosophischen Briefe, in which this conflict rages, might be called a dialogue between idealism and materialism. "My heart," writes Julius, "was craving for a philosophy, and phantasy substituted its dreams.... A bold attack of materialism overthrows my creation." "What a miserable paradox of nature, this free and aspiring spirit is chained to the sluggish, never-changing clock-work of a mortal body, yoked to its petty trials, ruled by its petty desires, this god is relegated to a world of worms." After Schiller had conquered these sceptical moods, he portrayed them in the character of the Prince in Der Geisterseher. "Show me a creature that endures," exclaims the latter, "and I'll be virtuous. Everything is subject to change; nothing constant except this mechanical process of causality. The universe is without purpose. All physical and mental occurrences are but links in an endless causal chain. Pleasures and pains set the human mechanism in motion; the desire for happiness, the fundamental impulse of man's nature, is satisfied by momentary pleasures. But human happiness is not the purpose of the universe. If the crystal could think, it would regard crystallization as the highest plan of the world, and the most perfect crystal would be its god. Let man enjoy! Why care for the past or future? I am the bearer of a sealed message. I know not what it contains, nor care I to know. All I ask is the pay for my errand."
The clearness and precision which characterize all of Fischer's writings also belong to the meritorious features of the present work, and contribute to his reputation of being a philosopher "whom one can understand." This excellence in his style, of combining precision with clearness, is due not only to lucid thinking, but to his power of detecting the essential traits of an author's thoughts, a quality which we may call the highest form of critical tact.
This is in spirit and execution an excellent piece of work; it is through work of this kind that a tenable epistemology — the chief desideratum in Philosophy just now — will be arrived at. The author is content
