[Deutsche Jahrbticher No. 160, July 7, 1842] 

The more gladdening the powerful intellectual movement by 
which Konigsberg seeks to place itself at the centre of German 
political progress, and the freer and more developed the form in 
which public opinion manifests itself there, the more peculiar does 
it seem that this should be the place where a certain juste-milieu, 
which is obviously bound to come into conflict with the majority of 
the local people, is attempting to assert itself in the philosophical 
field. And whereas Rosenkranz still has many aspects that command 
respect, although he lacks the courage to be consistent, all the 
flabbiness and paltriness of the philosophical juste-milieu is re- 
vealed in the person of Herr Alexander Jung. 

In every movement, in every ideological struggle, there is a 
certain species of foggy mind which only feels comfortable in 
confusion. As long as the principles have not yet been worked out, 
such people are tolerated; as long as everyone is striving for 
clarity, it is not easy to discern the predestined lack of clarity of 
such people. But when the elements become separated, and 
principle is counterposed to principle, then it is high time to bid 
farewell to these useless people and definitively part company with 
them, for then their emptiness becomes appallingly obvious. 

Herr Alexander Jung is also one of these people. It would be 
best if his above-mentioned book were ignored; but since, in 
addition, he publishes a Kénigsberger Literatur-Blatt, in which he 
also brings his boring positivism '? before the public every week, 

the readers of the Jahrbticher* will forgive me if I fix my sights on 
him and characterise him in rather more detail. 

In the bygone days of Young Germany, he came out with his 
letters on recent literature.> He had joined this youthful trend and 
now, without wishing to, became with it part of the opposition. 
What a position for our conciliator! Herr Alexander Jung on the 
extreme left! One can easily imagine his discomfort and the 
stream of assurances he poured forth. Yet he had a particular 
liking for Gutzkow, who at that time was regarded as the 
arch-heretic. He wanted to unburden his full heart, but he was 
afraid, he did not want to cause offence. How was he to find a 
way out? He resorted to a method altogether typical of him. He 
wrote an apotheosis of Gutzkow, but without mentioning his 
name, and then entitled it: “Lines on an Unnamed Person”. 
Permit me to say it, Herr Alexander Jung, that was downright 
cowardly! 

[Deutsche Jahrbticher No. 161, July 8, 1842] 

Later Jung came out again with a conciliatory and confused 
book: Kénigsberg in Preussen und die Extreme des dortigen Pietismus. 
What a title! He allows pietism as such, but its extremes must be 
fought, just as now a struggle is being waged in the Kénigsberger 
Literatur-Blatt against the extremes of the Young Hegelian trend, 
for all extremes are evil in general, and only his beloved 
conciliation and moderation are of any value. As if extremes were 
not consistency pure and simple! Incidentally, this book was 
reviewed at the time in the Hallische Jahrbuecher.'*° 

Now he comes forward with the above-mentioned book and 
pours forth a whole bucketful of vague, uncritical assertions, con- 
fused judgments, empty phrases and ludicrously narrow views. 
It is as if he had been asleep ever since his Briefe appeared. Rien 
appris, rien oublie! '** Young Germany has passed away, the Young 
Hegelian school has emerged, Strauss, Feuerbach, Bauer, and the 
Jahrbticher now command universal attention, the battle over prin- 
ciples is at its height, it is a question of life or death, Christianity is 
at stake, the political movement embraces everything, and yet the 
good Jung still cherishes the naive belief that “the nation” has 
nothing better to do than wait agog for a new play by Gutzkow, a 
novel promised by Mundt, an oddity to be expected from Laube. At 

a time when the cry of battle resounds throughout Germany, 
when the new principles are being debated at his very feet, Herr 
Jung sits in his study, chews his pen and ruminates over the con- 
cept of the “modern”. He hears nothing, sees nothing, for he is 
up to his ears in a pile of books, the contents of which are now of 
no interest to anyone, and he labours to arrange the various 
items precisely and neatly into Hegelian categories. 

On the threshold of his lectures, he sets up as sentry the bogey 
of the “modern”. What is the “modern”? Herr Jung says that his 
point of departure for it is Byron and George Sand, and that for 
Germany the most immediate basic elements of the new world 
epoch are Hegel and the writers of what is called Young 
Literature.— Is there anything for which poor Hegel has not been 
made responsible? Atheism, the omnipotence of self-consciousness, 
the revolutionary theory of the state, and now Young Germany as 
well. But it is perfectly ridiculous to connect Hegel with this 
coterie. Is Herr Jung not aware that Gutzkow has long been 
engaged in a polemic against Hegelian philosophy, that Mundt 
and Kihne understand practically nothing at all about the subject, 
that Mundt, in particular, in the Madonna and elsewhere has said 
the most senseless things about Hegel, shown the greatest misun- 
derstanding of him and is now an avowed opponent of his 
teaching? Does he not know that Wienbarg, too, has spoken out 
against Hegel, and that Laube in his history of literature* has 
continually made incorrect use of Hegelian categories? 

Herr Jung then passes on to the concept of the “modern” and 
tortures himself over it for six pages, without being able to master 
it. Of course! As though the “modern” could ever become 
“elevated to the rank of a concept”! As though such a vague, 
empty, imprecise expression which superficial minds everywhere 
put forward with a certain air of mystery, could ever become a 
philosophical category! What a distance there is between the 
“modern” of Heinrich Laube, which smacks of aristocratic salons 
and is personified only in the shape of a dandy, and “modern 
science” in the title of Strauss’ book on dogma! But all that is of 
no avail; Herr A. Jung regards this title as proof that Strauss 
acknowledges the modern, the special Young-German modern, as 
a power above him, and instantly puts him and Young Literature 
in the same category. In the end he defines the concept of the 

modern as the independence of the subject from all merely 
external authority. We have long known that the striving towards 
this is the main element of the movement of the present day, and 
no one will deny that the “moderns” are connected with this 
striving; but what is very conspicuously revealed here is the 
absurdity of Herr Jung’s desire to present a part as the whole, an 
outlived, transitional epoch as a period of full flower. At all costs, 
Young Germany must be made the embodiment of the whole 
spirit of the times, and incidentally Hegel, too, must come in for 
his share. One can see that, so far, Herr Jung was divided in two; 
he kept one half of his heart for Hegel and the other for Young 
Germany. Now, in writing these lectures, he was compelled to 
bring the two together. What a problem! The left hand caressed 
philosophy, the right hand superficial, iridescent unphilosophy 
and, in good Christian fashion, the right hand did not know what 
the left hand was doing. Where was he to turn? Instead of 
honestly rejecting one of his two incompatible favourites, he made 
a bold stroke and deduced unphilosophy from philosophy. 

To this end, thirty pages are devoted to throwing light on poor 
Hegel. A pompous, high-faluting apotheosis gushes in a turbid 
flood over the grave of the great man; then Herr Jung is at pains 
to prove that the fundamental feature of the Hegelian system is 
the assertion of the free subject as opposed to the heteronomy of 
rigid objectivity. But one need not be particularly knowledgeable 
about Hegel to know that he laid claim to a far higher standpoint, 
that of the reconciliation of the subject with objective forces; that 
he had a tremendous respect for objectivity, that he regarded 
reality, the actually existing, as far higher than the subjective 
reason of the individual, and demanded that precisely the latter 
should recognise objective reality as rational. Hegel is not, as Herr 
Jung supposes, the prophet of subjective autonomy, which is seen 
in the form of arbitrariness in Young Germany. Hegel’s principle 
is also heteronomy, subordination of the subject to universal 
reason, and sometimes, for instance in the philosophy of religion, 
even to universal unreason. What Hegel despised most of all was 
the intellect, and what is that but reason petrified in its subjectivity 
and isolation? But Herr Jung will reply to me by saying that that 
was not what he meant, that he was speaking only of purely external 
authority, that he, too, wants to see no more in Hegel than merely 
the reconciliation of both sides, and that, in his opinion, the 
“modern” individual desires no more than to regard himself as 
governed “by his own insight into the rationality of what is 
objective”. But then I, in turn, will insist that he should not lump 

Hegel with the Young Germans, whose essence lies precisely in 
subjective arbitrariness, whims and oddities; for then the “modern 
individual” is merely another expression for a Hegelian. In the 
presence of such boundless confusion Herr Jung will have to look 
for the “modern” also within the Hegelian school, and it is correct 
that the Left trend of the latter is pre-eminently called upon to 
fraternise with the Young Germans. 

Finally, he comes to “modern” literature, and now a flood of 
universal recognition and eulogising is let loose. Here there is no 
one who has not achieved something to his credit, no one who does 
not represent something worthy of notice, no one to whom litera- 
ture does not owe some of its progress. These endless compli- 
ments, these conciliatory efforts, this passion to play the literary 
procurer and broker, are intolerable. What concern is it to litera- 
ture that some writer or other has a bit of talent, that here or 
there he achieves some trifle, if he is otherwise worthless, if his 
whole trend, his literary character, his achievements as a whole, 
are of no value? In literature a writer’s value does not depend on 
himself, but only on his position in relation to the whole. If I were 
to adopt that kind of criticism, I would have to deal more indul- 
gently with Herr Jung himself, since perhaps five pages of this 
book are not badly written and reveal some talent — A mass of cu- 
rious statements flows from his pen with extraordinary ease and 
even with a certain hauteur. Thus, in speaking of Ptickler’s harsh 
treatment at the hands of the critics, he rejoices that they 
“pronounce their judgment without regard for person or rank. This truly 
testifies to the high, independent standpoint of German criticism.” 
What a poor opinion Herr Jung must have of the German nation 
to consider that sort of thing so greatly to its credit! As though 
incredible courage were required to criticise the literary works of 
a sovereign! 

I shall pass over this drivel which claims to be a history of 
literature and which, in addition to its inner emptiness and 
incoherence, also has limitless omissions; thus there is no mention 
of the poets Grün, Lenau, Freiligrath, and Herwegh, or the 
dramatists Mosen and Klein, etc. Finally, the author arrives at 
what he has been working up to from the outset—his precious 
Young Germany, which for him is the acme of the “modern”. He 
begins with Bérne. Actually, Boerne’s influence on Young Germany 
has not been so great; Mundt and Ktihne said he was mad, Laube 
thought him too democratic, too categorical, and only on Gutzkow 
and Wienbarg did he exercise a more sustained influence. Gutz- 
kow, in particular, owes a great deal to Borne. The latter’s greatest 

effect lay in his quiet influence on the nation, which preserved his 
works as sacred objects and drew strength and support from them 
during the troubled times of 1832 to 1840, until the true sons of 
the author of the Briefe aus Paris* appeared in the form of the 
new, philosophical liberals. Without the direct and indirect influ- 
ence of Bérne it would have been far more difficult for the free 
trend proceeding from Hegel to take shape. Then all that needed 
to be done was to clear out the silted-up paths of thought between 
Hegel and Borne, and that was not so difficult. These two men 
stood closer to each other than it seemed. Borne’s directness and 
healthy outlook proved to be the practical side of what Hegel had 
in mind, theoretically at least. Naturally, Herr Jung does not see 
this either. True, for him Borne is to a certain extent a respectable 
person, even a man of character, which is obviously very valuable 
in the circumstances; he has undeniable merits, as perhaps 
Varnhagen and Pickler have also, and he wrote in particular good 
dramatic criticism, but he was a fanatic and terrorist, and from 
such may the good Lord deliver us! Shame on such a vapid, 
faint-hearted conception of a man who by his mode of thought 
alone became a standard-bearer of his time! This Jung, who 
wishes to construct Young Germany and Gutzkow’s personality out 
of the absolute concept, is not even capable of understanding such 
a simple character as Bérne; he does not see how inevitably and 
logically the most extreme, the most radical pronouncements arise 
from Borne’s innermost being, that Borne was a republican by his 
very nature, and that truly the Briefe aus Paris are not written in too 
strong terms for such a man. Or has Herr Jung never heard a 
Swiss or a North American talking about monarchical states? And 
who would reproach Borne for “considering life only from the 
political point of view”? Does not Hegel do the same? Is not for 
him, too, the state in its transition to world history, and therefore 
in the conditions of home and foreign policy, the concrete reality 
of the absolute spirit? And—ludicrously enough—confronted by 
this direct, naive outlook of Bérne, which finds its completion in 
the wider Hegelian outlook and often coincides with it in the most 
surprising way, Herr Jung nevertheless concludes that Borne 
“outlined a system of politics and happiness of the peoples”, a sort 
of abstract, cloudy conception which, in his view, must explain 
Bérne’s one-sidedness and obduracy! Herr Jung has not the 
slightest idea of Borne’s importance, his iron, unyielding charac- 
ter, his imposing will-power, precisely because he himself is such 

an insignificant, soft-hearted, helpless, obsequious little man. He 
does not know that as a personality Bérne is unique in German 
history; he does not know that Bérne was the standard-bearer of 
German freedom, the only real man in the Germany of his day; he 
cannot imagine what it means to rise up against forty million Ger- 
mans and proclaim the realm of the idea; he cannot understand 
that Borne is the John the Baptist of the new period, who preaches 
repentance to the self-satisfied Germans and tells them that 
already the axe is laid to the root of the tree and that one mightier 
will come, who will baptise with fire and mercilessly sweep away 
the chaff from the threshing-floor. Herr Jung should see himself 
as part of this chaff. Finally, Herr A. Jung arrives at his beloved 
Young Germany and begins with a tolerable, but much too 
detailed criticism of Heine. The others are then dealt with in turn; 
first Laube, Mundt, and Kuhne, then Wienbarg, to whom homage 
is paid as he deserves, and finally almost 50 pages are devoted to 
Gutzkow. The first three receive the usual juste-milieu tribute, 
much approval and very modest censure; Wienbarg is given 
definite prominence, but only four pages are allotted to him; and 
finally, with shameless servility, Gutzkow is made the standard- 
bearer of the “modern”, his image is constructed in accordance 
with the Hegelian scheme of concepts, and he is treated as a 
personage of the first rank. 

If such judgments had been put forward by a young, budding 
author, one would let it pass; there are many who for a time set 
their hopes on the Young Literature, and with an eye to the 
expected future considered its works with more indulgence than 
they could otherwise have justified to themselves. In particular, 
anyone whose own mind has passed through the recent stages of 
the development of German thought will at some time have had a 
special liking for the works of Mundt, Laube, or Gutzkow. But 
since then progress beyond this trend has gone on much too 
vigorously, and the emptiness of most of the Young Germans has 
become horribly obvious. 

Young Germany extricated itself from the unclearness of dis- 
turbed times, but itself remained tainted by this unclearness. Ideas 
‘which at that time were fermenting in people’s minds in a still 
shapeless and undeveloped form and which only later were 
consciously perceived with the help of philosophy, were used by 
Young Germany to play a game of fantasy. Hence the vagueness, 
the confusion of concepts, which prevailed among the Young 
Germans themselves. Gutzkow and Wienbarg knew better than the 
others what they wanted, Laube least of all. Mundt pursued social 

whims; Ktihne, in whom something of Hegel was visible, made 
schemes and classifications. But in view of the general unclearness 
of thought nothing of value could come of it. The idea of the 
justification of sensuality was conceived, following Heine’s exam- 
ple, in a crude and shallow way; liberal political principles differed 
among various personalities and the position of women gave rise 
to the most sterile and confused discussions. No one knew where 
he stood in relation to another person. The measures adopted by 
the various goveruments against these people should also be 
ascribed to the universal confusion of the period. The fantastic 
form in which these views were propagated could only promote 
further confusion. Thanks to the outward brilliance of the Young 
Germans’ works, to their witty, piquant and lively style, the 
enigmatic mysticism in which the main slogans were clothed, and 
thanks also to the revival of criticism and enlivening of the literary 
journals under their influence, the Young Germans soon attracted 
a mass of younger writers, and it was not long before each of 
them, with the exception of Wienbarg, had his own following. The 
old, flabby belles-lettres had to give way under pressure from the 
young forces, and the “Young Literature” took possession of the 
field it had conquered, divided it up—and disintegrated in the 
course of this division. Thus, the inadequacy of principle was 
disclosed. They had all been mistaken about one another. Princi- 
ples vanished; it was now only a matter of personalities. Gutzkow 
or Mundt, that was the question. The periodicals began to be filled 
with the doings of the cliques, squabbles, and disputes about 
nothing at all. 

The easy victory had made the young masters overbearing and 
vain. They regarded themselves as characters of world-historic 
importance. Whenever a new author appeared a pistol was 
immediately levelled at his heart and his unconditional subordina- 
tion demanded. Each claimed to be the sole god of literature. 
Thou shalt have no other gods before me! The slightest censure 
aroused deadly enmities. Thus this trend lost all the intellectual 
content it might still have had and degenerated into sheer 
squabbling, which culminated in Heine’s book about Borne’ and 
developed into infamous baseness. Of the individual ‘personalities, 
undoubtedly the noblest is Wienbarg—a true, forceful man, like a 
statue of brightly shining bronze cast in a single piece, without a 
speck of rust. Gutzkow is the clearest, the most intelligent; he has 
written more than the others and, next to Wienbarg, has provided