is the beautiful harmony
between your philosophical instinct and the purest results of your
speculative reason. Upon a first view it does indeed seem as if there
could not be any greater opposites than the speculative mind which
proceeds from unity, and the intuitive mind which proceeds from
variety. If, however, the former seeks experience with a pure and
truthful spirit, and the latter seeks law with self-active and free
power of thought, then the two cannot fail to meet each other half
way. It is true that the intuitive mind has only to deal with
individuals, the speculative mind only with species. But if the
intuitive mind is that of a genius and seeks the nature of the
Necessary in experience, then individuals will be produced, it is
true, but they will possess the character of the species; and again,
if the speculative mind is that of a genius, and does not lose sight
of experience when rising above it, then it will indeed produce
species only, but with the possibility of individual life and with a
well-founded relation to actual objects.

But I find that in place of sending you a letter I am writing an
essay--pray excuse this, and ascribe it to the lively interest with
which the subject has filled me; and should you not recognize your
own image in this mirror, do not on that account flee from it, I pray.
* * *

Diderot's work[65], especially the first part, is very interesting,
and, considering the subject, is handled with edifying delicacy. I beg
to be permitted to keep this book for a few days longer.

It would, I think, be well if we could now soon start the new
periodical, and you would perhaps be kind enough to let the first
number be opened with something of yours. I, therefore, take the
liberty of asking you whether you would be willing to let your
novel[66] appear in our journal in successive numbers? But whether you
determine to let us have it or not, I should consider it a very great
favor to be allowed to read it.

My friends and my wife commend themselves to your kind remembrance.

* * * * *

GOETHE _to_ SCHILLER

Ettersburg, August 27, 1794.

On the anniversary of my birthday, which took place this week, I could
not have received a more acceptable gift than the letter in which you
give the sum of my existence in so friendly a manner, and in which, by
your sympathy, you encourage me to a more assiduous and active use of
my powers.

Pure enjoyment and true us