Wilhelm von Humboldt

That government is the best which makes government unnecessary.

Friedrich Wilhelm Christian Karl Ferdinand Freiherr von Humboldt (22 June 1767 – 8 April 1835) was a government functionary, diplomat, philosopher, founder of Humboldt Universität in Berlin, a friend of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, and elder brother of naturalist Alexander von Humboldt who is especially remembered as a linguist who made important contributions to the philosophy of language and to the theory and practice of education.

See also: The Limits of State Action

Quotes

If we would indicate an idea which, throughout the whole course of history, has ever more and more widely extended its empire, or which, more than any other, testifies to the much-contested and still more decidedly misunderstood perfectibility of the whole human race, it is that of establishing our common humanity — of striving to remove the barriers which prejudice and limited views of every kind have erected among men.

Man cannot approach this purely objective realm other than through his cognitive and sensory powers, that is, in a subjective manner.

• If we would indicate an idea which, throughout the whole course of history, has ever more and more widely extended its empire, or which, more than any other, testifies to the much-contested and still more decidedly misunderstood perfectibility of the whole human race, it is that of establishing our common humanity — of striving to remove the barriers which prejudice and limited views of every kind have erected among men, and to treat all mankind, without reference to religion, nation, or color, as one fraternity, one great community, fitted for the attainment of one object, the unrestrained development of the physical powers. This is the ultimate and highest aim of society, identical with the direction implanted by nature in the mind of man toward the indefinite extension of his existence. He regards the earth in all its limits, and the heavens as far as his eye can scan their bright and starry depths, as inwardly his own, given to him as the objects of his contemplation, and as a field for the development of his energies. Even the child longs to pass the hills or the seas which inclose his narrow home; yet, when his eager steps have borne him beyond those limits, he pines, like the plant, for his native soil; and it is by this touching and beautiful attribute of man — this longing for that which is unknown, and this fond remembrance of that which is lost — that he is spared from an exclusive attachment to the present. Thus deeply rooted in the innermost nature of man, and even enjoined upon him by his highest tendencies, the recognition of the bond of humanity becomes one of the noblest leading principles in the history of mankind.
  • Ueber die Kawi-Sprache, vol. iii, p. 426. Quoted in Alexander von Humboldt, Kosmos (1845–1847): translated by Elise C. Otté, Cosmos: A Sketch of a Physical Description of the Universe (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1848) pp. 368–369

• The impetuous conquests of Alexander, the more politic and premeditated extension of territory made by the Romans, the wild and cruel incursions of the Mexicans, and the despotic acquisitions of the incas, have in both hemispheres contributed to put an end to the separate existence of many tribes as independent nations, and tended at the same time to establish more extended international amalgamation. Men of great and strong minds, as well as whole nations, acted under the influence of one idea, the purity of which was, however, utterly unknown to them. It was Christianity which first promulgated the truth of its exalted charity, although the seed sown yielded but a slow and scanty harvest. Before the religion of Christ manifested its form, its existence was only revealed by a faint foreshadowing presentiment. In recent times, the idea of civilization has acquired additional intensity, and has given rise to a desire of extending more widely the relations of national intercourse and of intellectual cultivation; even selfishness begins to learn that by such a course its interests will be better served than by violent and forced isolation. Language more than any other attribute of mankind, binds together the whole human race. By its idiomatic properties it certainly seems to separate nations, but the reciprocal understanding of foreign languages connects men together on the other hand without injuring individual national characteristics.
  • Ueber die Kawi-Sprache, vol. iii. Quoted in Alexander von Humboldt, Kosmos (1845–1847): translated by Elise C. Otté (1848) p. 369, footnote

• Es gibt schlechterdings gewisse Kenntnisse, die allgemein sein müssen, und noch mehr eine gewisse Bildung der Gesinnungen und des Charakters, die keinem fehlen darf. Jeder ist offenbar nur dann ein guter Handwerker, Kaufmann, Soldat und Geschäftsmann, wenn er an sich und ohne Hinsicht auf seinen besonderen Beruf ein guter, anständiger, seinem Stande nach aufgeklärter Mensch und Bürger ist. Gibt ihm der Schulunterricht, was hierfür erforderlich ist, so erwirbt er die besondere Fähigkeit seines Berufs nachher so leicht und behält immer die Freiheit, wie im Leben so oft geschieht, von einem zum andern überzugehen.
  • There are undeniably certain kinds of knowledge that must be of a general nature and, more importantly, a certain cultivation of the mind and character that nobody can afford to be without. People obviously cannot be good craftworkers, merchants, soldiers or businessmen unless, regardless of their occupation, they are good, upstanding and – according to their condition – well-informed human beings and citizens. If this basis is laid through schooling, vocational skills are easily acquired later on, and a person is always free to move from one occupation to another, as so often happens in life.
    • Reported in P. Berglar, Wilhelm von Humboldt (1970), p. 87, and in Karl-Heinz Günther, "Profiles of Educators: Wilhelm von Humboldt (1767–1835)", Prospects, Vol. 18, Issue 1 (March 1988)

• Durch die gegenseitige Abhängigkeit des Gedankens, und des Wortes von einander leuchtet es klar ein, daß die Sprachen nicht eigentlich Mittel sind, die schonerkannte Welt darzustellen, sondern weit mehr, die vorher unerkannte zu entdecken. Ihre Verschiedenheit ist nicht eine von Schällen und Zeichen, sondern eine Verschiedenheit der Weltansichten selbst. Hierin ist der Grund, und der letzte Zweck aller Sprachuntersuchung enthalten. Die Summe des Erkennbaren liegt, als das von dem menschlichen Geiste zu bearbeitende Feld, zwischen allen Sprachen, und unabhängig von ihnen, in der Mitte; der Mensch kann sich diesem rein objectiven Gebiet nicht anders, als nach seiner Erkennungs- und Empfindungsweise, also auf einem subjectiven Wege, nähern.
  • The interdependence of word and idea shows clearly that languages are not actually means of representing a truth already known, but rather of discovering the previously unknown. Their diversity is not one of sounds and signs, but a diversity of world perspectives [Weltansichten]. … The sum of the knowable, as the field to be tilled by the human mind, lies among all languages, independent of them, in the middle. Man cannot approach this purely objective realm other than through his cognitive and sensory powers, that is, in a subjective manner.
  • Reported in Robert Lee Miller, The Linguistic Relativity Principle and Humboldtian Ethnolinguistics: A History And Appraisal (1963), and in Cristina Lafont, The Linguistic Turn in Hermeneutic Philosophy (2002)

Attributed

I am more and more convinced that our happiness or our unhappiness depends far more on the way we meet the events of life than on the nature of those events themselves.

• True enjoyment comes from activity of the mind and exercise of the body; the two are ever united.
  • Reported in Tryon Edwards (ed.) A Dictionary of Thoughts: Being a Cyclopedia of Laconic Quotations from the Best Authors of the World, both Ancient and Modern (1908)

• Governmental regulations all carry coercion to some degree, and even where they don't, they habituate man to expect teaching, guidance and help outside himself, instead of formulating his own.
  • Reported in David Sidorsky, The Liberal Tradition in European Thought (1971), p. 73

• How a person masters his fate is more important than what his fate is.
  • Reported in Luzano Pancho Canlas (ed.) International Proverbs (2000), p. 40

• I am more and more convinced that our happiness or our unhappiness depends far more on the way we meet the events of life than on the nature of those events themselves.
  • Reported in Jordan S. Metzger, Lightning Fast Enlightenment: A Journey to the Secrets of Happiness (2000), p. 9

• The most beautiful, perhaps the only true, philosophical song existing in any known tongue.
  • About the Bhagavad Gita. Reported in E. W. F. Tomlin, Great Philosophers Eastern World (London: Skiffington and Son, 1952) p. 167

• I read the Indian poem for the first time when I was in my country estate in Silesia and, while doing so, I felt a sense of overwhelming gratitude to God for having let me live to be acquainted with this work. It must be the most profound and sublime thing to be found in the world.
  • About the Bhagavad Gita. Reported in P. Nagaraja Rao, The Bhagavad Gita: The Quest for the Moral Ideal, Religious Values and the Affirmation of Faith (Madras, 1986), p. 20

Beautiful Thoughts from German and Spanish Authors (1880)

Edited by Craufurd Tait Ramage. New Revised Edition. Liverpool: Edward Howell

• I have, besides, a great love for the past. Only what refers to it is eternal and unchangeable like death, and at the same time warm and gladsome like life.
  • The Past. To a Female Friend. Letter I. 2 (p. 182)

• If the mind loves solitude, it has thereby acquired a loftier character, and it becomes still more noble when the taste is indulged in.
  • Solitude. To a Female Friend. Letter I. 9 (p. 182)

• It is certainly true that I am unable to forget or give up any one with whom I have been intimate; far from this, I follow up every trace that remains of the past. Every such tie, nay, every accidental meeting, unites so many things together, and life is such a medley and patchwork, that we can never sufficiently labour to join the connecting links more and more closely to each other.
  • The Love of Early Associations. To a Female Friend. Letter I. 9 (pp. 182-183)

• A letter is a conversation between the present and the absent. Its fate is that it cannot last, but must pass away like the sound of the voice.
  • A Letter. To a Female Friend. Letter I. 9 (p. 183)

• The fate of no man, not even the happiest, is free from struggles and privation; for true happiness is only then attained, when by the government of the feelings we become independent of all the chances of life.
  • The Lot of Man. To a Female Friend. Letter I. 9 (p. 183)

• Women are in this respect more fortunate, and yet more unfortunate, than men — that most of their employments are of such a nature that they may at the same time be thinking of quite different things. I would pronounce this to be a lucky circumstance, for one may almost the whole day continue a train of deep thought without the slightest interruption to work, or being in any way distracted in our labours. This is no doubt one of the chief reasons why many women surpass men in everything which requires deep thought and a more subtle knowledge of ourselves and others. But when, on the other hand, these inner thoughts are not of a pleasant nature, or at least not in a pure and unmixed degree, but partly depressing and disquieting, then the danger is certainly greater, and more likely to destroy the inward peace; whereas men, in their business itself, and even against their will, find distraction and relief from inward troubles and vexations.
  • Difference between the Nature of Men and Women. To a Female Friend. Letter I. 10 (pp. 183-184)

• Happiness passes away, leaving hardly the slightest trace behind, indeed can scarcely be called happiness, since nothing lasting is gained. Unhappiness also passes away (and that is a great comfort), but leaves deep traces behind; and if we know how to improve them, of a most wholesome nature, and is often the cause of the highest happiness, as it purifies and strengthens the character. Then, again, in life it is worthy of special remark, that when we are not too anxious about happiness and unhappiness, but devote ourselves to the strict and unsparing performance of duty, then happiness comes of itself — nay, even springs from the midst of a life of troubles, and anxieties, and privations. This I have often observed in the case of women who have been married unhappily, but who would rather sink into the grave than abandon the position in which fate has placed them.
  • Happiness and Unhappiness in Life. To a Female Friend. Letter I. 10 (pp. 184-185)

• Friendship and love require the deepest and most entire confidence, but souls of a high character demand not communications of a familiar nature.
  • Friendship and Love. Letter I. 12 (p. 185)

• Sorrows and reverses spring up independently of external circumstances, and Heaven has dealt them out so wisely to man, that those who are to outward appearance most highly favoured by fortune, are yet not on that account more exempt from the causes that originate inward pain.
  • Trials and Reverses of Life. Letter I. 15 (p. 185)

• Man stands in need of a certain degree of firmness in all the circumstances of life, even those that appear most fortunate ; and when painful events occur, such as you now experience, they are perhaps sent only to try and prove us; and if we have the resolution to hold fast in our hour of trial, from this very firmness itself serenity soon returns to the mind, which always feels satisfaction in acting conformably to duty.
  • Firmness in the Trials of Life. Letter I. 15 (p. 186)

• The appearance of the heavens has under all circumstances a never-ending charm for me, in the clear starlight as well as in dark nights, in the soft blue as well as in the cloudy or dark-grey sky, in which the eye loses itself, without being able to distinguish anything.
  • The Beauty of the Heavens. Letter I. 17 (p. 186)

• The complaint about the weather is to me specially strange, and I cannot endure it well in others. I like to look upon Nature as a mighty power, imparting the purest joy, when we live tranquilly with her in all her developments, and consider the sum of all these as one great whole, in which we are not to think whether any individual portion is pleasing if only the great general ends are accomplished. For me the peculiar charm of a country life in the society of Nature consists in this, that we see the different seasons of the year roll past our eyes. It is just the same with life; and it has therefore always appeared to me an idle question, to say nothing more, what period of life has the greatest attractions — youth or manhood, or any other portion of time. It is ever only self-deception when we imagine that we would really wish to continue in any one particular period. The charm of youth just consists in the joyous and unrestrained anticipations of life, and all these would vanish whenever it was evident to any one that he was ever striving and never advancing a step, very much like people condemned to the treadmill. With age it is just the same; when clearly and powerfully understood, it is nothing else than a looking beyond this life, a stage in our course, a feeling that we must leave all things without being able to dispense with them, loving meanwhile, and looking with cheerfulness on all we are leaving, as a scene in which we are interested, and on which our thoughts still love to linger.
  • Life. Letter I. 17 (pp. 186-187)

• We often find that religion is not understood in its true greatness, but that man looks at it from a lower point of view. He who worships God only on selfish principles, that he may receive protection, aid, and blessing in return, and who demands, as it were, that he should concern himself about the petty fate of every individual, such a one makes himself the central point of the whole universe; whereas he who thoroughly comprehends the greatness and fatherly goodness of God, receiving the idea with admiring devotion and deep thankfulness, so that he removes from his mind everything that does not accord with the purest and noblest conceptions; as, for instance, the thought that what duty and virtue require of him is at the same time the will of the Most High, and necessary for the proper regulation of the affairs of the world; such a man possesses a truly religious and virtuous mind.
  • Proper Views of Religion. Letter I. 17 (p. 188)

• When a man allows pain to get the mastery over him, when he is anxious to avoid it on all occasions, and is ever moaning over what is unavoidable, then he becomes an object of contempt rather than pity. It is not so in the case of a woman. In a woman it is becoming enough, and seems natural, that she lean upon another being. The man ought certainly to possess the power of endurance; but if he fail, it must be regarded as a want or weakness. A man ought ever to strive to stand on his own independent bottom.
  • We ought to resist Pain. Letter I. 19 (pp. 188-189)

• The man who allows himself to be deceived and carried away by his own weakness may be a very amiable person in other respects, but he cannot be called a man — only a sort of intermediate being between the two sexes.
  • A Weak Man. Letter I. 19 (p. 189)

• It is true, however, that I lay very little stress either upon asking or giving advice. Generally speaking, they who ask advice know what they wish to do, and remain firm to their intentions. A man may allow himself to be enlightened on various points, even upon matters of expediency and duty, but, after all, he must determine his course of action for himself.
  • On Asking and Giving Advice. Letter I. 22 (p. 189)

• We must now simply regard education as a direct guide to propriety of conduct, a good character, and a pretty fair amount of knowledge. It effects often much more by the bringing together a number of influences, the intended result of which may indeed be frustrated, but which produces by the conflict with the individuality of the person being educated, that which the direct influences could never have brought about; for the result of any system of education depends entirely upon the power that a man possesses of applying the influences brought to bear upon him to the ends of self-culture, or whether he allows himself to be moulded by them.
  • Education. Letter I. 26 (pp. 189-190)

• It has ever been my opinion that the essential features of a man's nature cannot be changed; he may give up errors — he may change from virtuous and good habits to vicious courses; but the natural bent of his disposition, whether devoted to active employment or inward contemplation — whether impetuous or gentle — whether penetrating to the hidden depths of things, or resting satisfied with superficial views — whether acting in the affairs of life with a firm and powerful grasp or with weakness — ever remains from childhood to death the same.
  • The Essential Features of a Man's Nature cannot be Changed. Letter I. 26 (p. 190)

• The permission of the wicked in the world, the impunity of the vicious, as well as the misfortunes of the good, are some of those problems which man has tried to solve, sometimes this way, sometimes that, in considering the government of the world.
  • Difficult Problems. Letter I. 26 (p. 191)

• I am more and more convinced that our happiness or unhappiness is much more dependent on the way that we meet the events of life than upon the nature of these events themselves. The joyous cheerful temper a man cannot exactly give himself, for that is the gift of Heaven; but we can do much in preparing ourselves to encounter with tranquillity, to bear courageously, and by prudent forethought to turn aside or lessen, the many sorrows which the chances of life, more or less, bring upon all. One may at least avoid bringing on oneself unnecessary and groundless cares and troubles.
  • On what Happiness depends. Letter I. 27 (p. 191)

• Resignation to whatever may happen, hope and trust that only that will happen which is good and beneficial, and firmness when adversity overtakes us: these are the only efficient bulwarks that we can raise against destiny.
  • Bulwarks against the Evils of Life}}. Letter I. 28 (pp. 191-192)

• To me it has always appeared to he best to bow with heartfelt humility to the inscrutable but unerring counsels of Heaven, and to remember that we can only in this life see a small portion of man’s existence, and therefore can form no judgment of the whole.
  • The Inscrutable Decrees of God. Letter I. 30 (p. 192)

• Your expression that "it appears as if God would only pour his blessings into pure vessels," pleases me exceedingly. If a man be without this blessing, he cannot charm it towards him. I agree with you in thinking that this blessing is given to man in a mysterious way which we cannot see. But the ideas attached to the words happiness and unhappiness are of so vague and undetermined a nature, even in the minds of those who usually entertain correct views and opinions, that I have from early youth endeavoured to get clear conceptions upon this subject ; and the conclusion at which I have arrived is, that man is ever sure to enjoy a certain amount of happiness at least, if he render himself independent of external circumstances — if he learn to draw happiness from every event of a pleasing nature, whether relating to man or things, at the same time maintaining his independence of both sources.
  • Different Ideas of Happiness and Unhappiness. Letter I. 31 (pp. 192-193)

• All merit ceases the moment we perform an act for the sake of its consequences. Truly in this respect "we have our reward."
  • When Merit for an Act ceases. Letter I. 31 (p. 193)

• Since it is Providence that determines the fates of men, their inner nature is thus brought into unison. There is such harmony, as in all things of nature, that one might explain the whole without referring to a higher Providence. But this only proves the more clearly and certainly this higher Providence, which has given existence to this harmony.
  • Harmony in the Inner Nature of Man. Letter I. 34 (p. 193)

• We cannot get rid of the idea that life must be regarded as an ocean, through which we are to conduct our bark more or less successfully, and then it is a natural feeling that we should contemplate with more satisfaction the short distance than the long voyage. This idea of viewing life as a whole, as a work to be got through, has ever appeared to me to be a powerful reason why we should regard death with indifference. On the other hand, if we look at life in detached portions, we have only to strive to associate one happy day with another, as if this would continue for an eternity; and then nothing can be more void of a comfortable feeling than to find ourselves standing on the brink of that bourn at which the thread of life must be at once snapped.
  • Life regarded as a Sea. Letter 1. 35 (pp. 193-194)

• Investigations into early times charmed me at an early period of my life, and it is this which now constitutes my real study. When man was nearer to the dawn of his existence, he showed more heroism and simplicity of character, more depth and artlessness in his thoughts and emotions, as also in the language in which he clothed them.
  • Investigations into Early Times. Letter I. 35 (p. 194)

• However great the power of time may be, yet it never entirely obliterates the remembrance and influences of the past; even though the mind may have long remained unoccupied by the emotions immediately produced by those events. With all its changes, it is time itself which has given that which may be regarded as true existence, and which may be justly said to be independent even of time.
  • The Power of Time. Letter I. 36 (pp. 194-195)

• That respect which the child owes to his parents, and every man to those of higher intellectual power with whom he may come in contact, and which every well-regulated and well-disposed mind so readily pays, is much oftener founded upon an imaginary worth than upon a distinct and actual experience of its existence — upon a something, which may not perhaps have attained perfect development, but which shines forth in the carriage, gestures, and whole character.
  • In what Respect arises. Letter I. 36 (p. 195)

• It is resignation and contentment that are best calculated to lead us safely through life. Whoever has not sufficient power to endure privations, and even suffering, can never feel that he is armour-proof against painful emotions — nay, he must attribute to himself, or at least to the morbid sensitiveness of his nature, every disagreeable feeling he may suffer.
  • Resignation and Contentment. Letter I. 36 (pp. 195-196)

• To set ourselves against men and fate is not a disposition of mind which is the noblest, and which does honour to us, nor is it that which is likely to procure us the greatest amount of tranquillity and cheerfulness. We ought rather to try to accommodate ourselves, so far as it is possible, to circumstances, to look on all that fate bestows upon us as a gift, being careful not to desire more, and least of all to be dissatisfied because all our desires are not gratified.
  • To Fight against Men and Gods. Letter I. 36 (p. 196)

• It is often found that those feelings which are best, noblest, and most self-denying, are exactly those which lead to a disastrous issue. It is as if, by the command of a higher and wiser Power, man’s fate were intentionally brought into variance with his inner feelings, in order that the latter might acquire a higher value, shine with greater purity, and thus become more precious by the very privations and sufferings to him who cherishes such feelings. However benevolent may be the intentions of Providence, they do not always advance the happiness of the individual. Providence has always higher ends in view, and works in a pre-eminent degree on the inner feelings and disposition.
  • The Noblest Feelings often lead to a Disastrous Issue. Letter I. 37 (pp. 196-197)

• Time is the most important thing in human life — for what is pleasure after the departure of time? and the most consolatory, since pain, when pain has passed, is nothing. Time is the wheeltrack, in which we roll on towards eternity, conducting us to the Incomprehensible. In its progress there is a ripening power, and it ripens us the more and the more powerfully, when we duly estimate it, listen to its voice, do not waste it, but regard it as the highest finite good, in which all finite things are resolved.
  • Time. Letter 1. 38 (p. 197)

• That all life is only an advancing towards apparent annihilation, can be nowhere so clearly seen as in the regular succession of the seasons. To behold the whole vegetable world starting forth into life with innocent unsuspecting joy, as if it did not once anticipate its wintry death, contains something as deeply affecting as the life of a child, who as yet has not dreamt of danger.
  • Life is an Advancing towards Annihilation}}. Letter I. 44 (pp. 197-198)

• The mere reality of life would be inconceivably poor without the charm of fancy, which brings in its bosom, no doubt, as many vain fears as idle hopes, but lends much oftener to the allusions it calls up a gay flattering hue than one which inspires terror.
  • The Power of Fancy. Letter I. 46 (p. 198)

• The thought of a persecuting power has always appeared quite strange to me. I have never been able to endure the idea, which admits the existence of a being inimical to all good and taking pleasure in everything evil. In the New Testament I consider such passages merely figurative, expressions connected with the representations of Judaism for the evil, which man, even if he is good and believes himself quite innocent, has yet ever to fight against.
  • The Idea of a Devil. Letter I. 47 (p. 198)

• We are both the creatures of time; our fate rests upon it as upon an ever-agitated sea, as we never know whether we can safely trust the present, or whether a deceitful future may not yet be awaiting us.
  • We are the Creatures of Time. Letter I. 48 (p. 199)

• It is a beautiful attribute of our nature, a privilege granted to man exclusively, and before all the other creatures of this world, that he ever feels that he can by forethought and determination control and govern every physical influence, however mighty it may be. An inward voice proclaims to him that he is free and independent; it imputes to him good and evil, and in the judgments which he passes on himself, which must always be more severe and strict than those of others, he must entirely throw out of sight all physical influences. Man is subject to two distinct laws, that of dependence and that of freedom, and the conflict is not to be settled by the mere understanding. In the visible world all things seem to be so connected together, that, if we were acquainted with all possible circumstances — the most minute and most remote — it looks as if we could show that man at any moment could not avoid acting exactly as he did. And yet there is always the feeling within us, that if we did but will it, we could grasp the revolving wheel, and free ourselves from the chain that binds us to it. In this consciousness of his freedom lies the true dignity of man.
  • Free-will and Necessity. Letter I. 49 (pp. 199-200)

• It is a proverbial expression that every man is the maker of his own fortune, and we usually regard it as implying that every man, by his folly or wisdom, prepares good or evil for himself. But we may view it in another light — namely, that we may so accommodate ourselves to the dispensations of Providence as to be happy in our lot, whatever may be its privations.
  • Every Man the Maker of his own Fortune. Letter I. 49 (p. 200)
  • See: Appius Claudius Caecus

• But the simple thought that the stars are far beyond and above everything earthly — the feeling that everything earthly in comparison fades from the view, and that man himself is utterly insignificant when contrasted with those worlds scattered over the firmament, while his fate, his enjoyments, and wants are as nothing — then again that the stars bind together all men and all periods of the world’s history, as they have seen all from the beginning of time, and will see all that shall come hereafter; — when I meditate on all these things, I lose myself in serene delight while contemplating the starry heavens. Certainly it is a truly sublime spectacle, when in the stillness of the night, in an unclouded sky, the stars, like the world’s choir, rise and set, and as it were divide existence into two portions: — the one, belonging to the earthly, is silent in the perfect stillness of night, whilst the other alone comes forth in sublimity, pomp, and majesty. Viewed in this light the starry heavens truly exercise a moral influence over us; and who can readily stray into the paths of immorality, if he has been accustomed to live amidst such thoughts and feelings, and frequently to dwell upon them? How are we entranced by the simple splendours of this wonderful drama of nature?
  • The Starry Heavens. Letter I. 56 (pp. 200-201)

• A taste for sculpture belongs to the best, purest, and noblest of our enjoyments; and we feel most reluctant to be separated from those forms, from which, however often we contemplate them, we derive renewed and indeed heightened pleasure.
  • Taste for Sculpture. Letter I. 54 (pp. 201-202)

• Even sleep is characteristic. How charming are children in their lovely innocence! how angel-like their blooming hue! how painful and anxious is the sleep and expression in the countenance of the guilty!
  • Sleep of the Innocent and Guilty contrasted. Letter I. 55 (p. 202)

• I do not dread old age, and death I have, from a peculiarity of my constitution and from my youth, been accustomed to regard not simply as an event in human life but as something joyous. Such an occurrence cannot possibly excite feelings of regret in one who has meditated deeply on the destiny of man. My reckoning with the world has long been closed — I have nothing more to look for from length of life — I have no deep-laid plans extending to a distant futurity. I take any enjoyments gratefully from the hand of Providence, but would think it foolish to be so dependent upon them as to expect them to be of long continuance. My feelings are the precise central point in which I stand, and where my enjoyments are placed ; from anything external to myself I can derive no pleasure, and those thoughts and feelings are so peculiarly my own that I cannot imagine that they should not go with me. No one, however, can raise the veil which Providence has with profound wisdom drawn over the world beyond the grave.
  • The Close of Life. Letter I. 56 (pp. 202-203)

• The idea we form of a misfortune is ever somewhat different from the misfortune itself, when it appears in all its frightful certainty. We must trust in nothing so little, and must labour for nothing so unceasingly, as for the strengthening of our soul and for self-government, both of which are the only sure foundations of earthly happiness.
  • The Idea of a Misfortune. Letter I. 57 (p. 203)

• What lies in the nature of things and is dependent on fate, it would be silly and unmanly to lose one’s rest and inward equilibrium in thinking of it.
  • What lies in the Nature of Things. Letter I. 58 (p. 203)

• It is incredible how important it is that the corporeal frame should be kept under the influence of constant, continuous, and unbroken order, and free from the impressions of vicissitude, which always more or less derange the corporeal functions. After all, it is continued temperance which sustains the body for the longest period of time, and which most surely preserves it free from sickness.
  • Temperate Habits. Letter I. 58 (p. 204)

• Man is, above all, the central point of human action, and each man remains at last alone, so that what was in him and went forth from him is alone important. Man, during his life on earth, sympathising and active, is ever associated in his feelings with others; yet he treads alone the more important path, which leads over the confines of the earthly state: no one can accompany him there, though in every man there is the presentiment, that beyond the grave he will find again those who have gone before him, and will there gather around him again those whom he leaves behind. No man of affectionate feeling can be without this anticipation, yea, this firm belief, without giving up a large portion of his happiness, and that the purest and noblest.
  • Man. Letter I. 60 (pp. 204-205)

• The men most to be pitied are those who have no command over themselves, who cannot do what they would, and who, even whilst they are performing virtuous deeds, do so from mean motives, from regard to happiness and mental satisfaction, fear of the reproaches of conscience, or else of future punishment. This is all very well and useful, supposing that man cannot be kept in the straight path by any other motives, but he who looks inwardly to the heart and soul can derive no satisfaction from such conduct. True nobility only exists when the good is sought for its own sake, either as a recognised law of pure duty, or from the feeling of the lofty dignity and constraining beauty of virtue. It is only these motives that show the disposition to be great and noble, and these alone react upon the character.
  • Motives of Actions alone to be regarded. Letter I. 61 (p. 205)

• Providence certainly does not attend merely to the interests of individuals, but the profound wisdom of its counsels extends to the right ordering and betterment of all.
  • Providence does not favour Individuals. Letter I. 67 (pp. 205-206)

• It is a beautiful thought, that however far one shore may be from another, the wave that ripples over my foot will in a short time be on the opposite strand.
  • The Sea. Letter I. 68 (p. 206)

• There is nothing so selfish and heartless as the displeasure, or at least the kind of contemptuous aversion, with which men of distinction and wealth sometimes regard Sundays and holidays. Even the choice of the seventh day is certainly the wisest which could have been made. However it may seem to lie, and in one respect really may lie, within the power of the will to shorten or lengthen the usual period of labour, I am thoroughly convinced that the six days are the really true, fit, and adequate measure of time for work, whether as regards the physical strength of man or his perseverance in a uniform occupation. There is also something humane in the arrangement, by which those animals which assist man in his work rest along with him.
  • Sundays and Holidays. Letter I. 70 (p. 206)

• Trees have about them something beautiful and attractive even to the fancy, since they cannot change their places, are witnesses of all the changes that take place around them; and as some reach a great age, they become, as it were, historical monuments, and like ourselves they have a life, growing and passing away — not being inanimate and unvarying like the fields and rivers. One sees them passing through various stages, and at last step by step approaching death, which makes them look still more like ourselves.
  • Trees. Letter I. 71 (p. 207)

• Work, according to my feeling, is as much of a necessity to man as eating and sleeping. Even those who do nothing which to a sensible man can be called work, still imagine that they are doing something. The world possesses not a man who is an idler in his own eyes.
  • Work as necessary as Eating and Sleeping. Letter I. 73 (p. 207)

• Everything that regards statesmanship and the interest of the world is in all outward respects of the greatest importance; it creates and destroys in a moment the happiness, even the very existence, of thousands, but when the wave of the moment has rushed past, and the storm has abated, its influence is lost, and even frequently disappears without leaving a trace behind. Many other things that are noiselessly influencing the thoughts and feelings often make far deeper and more lasting impressions on us. Man can for the most part keep himself very independent of all that does not trench on his private life — a very wise arrangement of Providence, since it gives a much greater security to human happiness.
  • The Little Influence of State Affairs on Private Happiness. Letter I. 79 (pp. 207-208)

• Earnestness in life, even when carried to an extreme, is something very noble and great, but it must not be allowed to disturb the common business of life, else it will produce bitterness, producing injurious effects.
  • Earnestness in Life. Letter I. 81 (p. 208)

• My house and the things in it have always something pleasant to me. There is always a something about home which addresses us with a friendly air, and touches the heart, even after having just come from direct intercourse with objects that are great and beautiful.
  • Home. Letter I. 89 (pp. 208-209)

• Nature goes forward in her never-ending course, and cares nothing for the race of man that is ever passing before her. Whatever may be the painful and distressing events that happen, either in the direct course of her accustomed revolutions, or by some apparent deviation, she still goes on her way with stern indifference and apparent insensibility. Whether we suffer from some present sorrow, or from the fear of one impending, this thought has something deeply painful, which increases the bitterness of the inward grief — something that makes us pause and shudder. But when we extend our view — when the soul loses itself in universal contemplation — when man turns to reflection and resigns himself to the inevitable, a course alone worthy of him, then the eternal, unchangeable order of Nature has a comforting and peaceful influence. It even gives us here a resting-place, "a stationary pole-star amidst the flight of meteors," as has been beautifully expressed in a song of Schiller's. Man belongs to a great order of things not easily disturbed or thrown into confusion; and as this certainly leads to something higher, and at length to a point in which all doubts shall be resolved, all difficulties smoothed, and all the jarring tones of contradiction and discordance joined in one mighty harmony — he must also in this order attain to this point.
  • The Course of Nature. Letter II. 3 (pp. 209-210)

• The past and the remembrance of it have a never-ending power, and if painful longings arise to give ourselves up to it, it has yet an inexpressible charm. We can shut ourselves up in thought with those whom we have loved and lost — we can turn away in peace and freedom from all that is external, and though still active and beneficent, for ourselves we ask nothing, for everything that the heart has the power to enjoy is within our breast.
  • Memory of the Past. Letter II. 3 (p. 210)

• Those who go along the path of life together must separate at some point; it is well when the interval at which they follow each other is very short. But every period of years is short in comparison of eternity. As for myself, I care now for nothing else except that my inward being, simple and undisguised, without being led by prejudices or maxims, yielding only to its feelings, should place itself in unison with that period of life on which I have unluckily entered sooner than the usual course of life might have led me to expect. Such a state, in my opinion, no man need fear to attain, but there must be much striving after it. It is, indeed, often attained only after much physical and moral suffering, but in this there is a lesson of humility under the hand of God, which I have ever regarded as the best and highest duty of man.
  • The Path of Life. Letter II. 4 (pp. 210-211)

• What is the individual in the stream of this world’s events? He disappears in it, not merely like an atom in an immeasurable, all-absorbing power, but in a higher, nobler spirit. For this stream does not rush on thoughtlessly, led by blind chance, but pursues its distinct end, guided in its course by an almighty and all-wise hand. But the individual does not live to see the attainment of this end; he enjoys a greater or less share of success as chance wills it, by which I merely mean an uninvestigated providence; he will often be sacrificed in the attainment, and must frequently leave his work suddenly, and in the midst of his labours. He is therefore only an instrument, and does not appear to be even a powerful one; as, when the course of nature sweeps him away, his place is ever filled up, for it would be absurd to suppose that the great objects of the Creator could be for a moment delayed by any circumstance in the life of a weak individual. In the events of the moral world there is an aim — there is an idea pursued — one can at least, nay, one must think so in reference to himself. In the order of the material nature it is otherwise. One can only say that powers arise and run their course as long as they are permitted. As long as one looks at a single individual, he appears different from other men — different in ability, health, length of life, &c.; but if we look at a mass of living beings, they appear all alike.
  • Man as Individuals and in the Mass. Letter II. 7 (pp. 211-212)

• It is a very wise rule in life not to be too anxious about health, or to be entirely free from the inconveniences and bodily ailments of old age. It is far better to submit with patience to what is merely annoying, but does not altogether confine us, and still better to treat with indifference the uncomfortable feelings which such a state of body calls up.
  • Old Age. Letter II. 9 (p. 213)

• Peace is the natural tone of a well-regulated mind at one with itself. External circumstances may assume a threatening aspect, and unhinge for a time the most stoical disposition, but a truly noble soul yields not; and there are even women who unite such firmness with the greatest and liveliest activity of mind and vigour of imagination. This we may admire, though we must not expect often to find it in them. But in man it is an imperative duty, and he loses in the eyes of the right-thinking all title to respect when he shows a deficiency in this quality.
  • Peace is the Natural Tone of a well-regulated Mind. Letter II. 12 (p. 213)

• We must wait for the future, and enjoy or bear the present.
  • The Future and the Present. Letter II. 13 (p. 214)

• Our evangelical churches are too much regarded as places for preaching, and too little thought as intended for the religious elevation of the mind by prayer and meditation.
  • Evangelical Churches. Letter II. 14 (p. 214)

• Death is only a word. Experience alone can first tell us what is the true meaning of the word. The appearance of the dying tells us nothing. What we see is merely the prelude to death. A dull unconsciousness is what strikes us. Whether this be so — how and when the spirit wakes to life again — this is what we wish to know, and which never can be known till it is experienced.
  • Death. Letter II. 15 (p. 214)

• That is a very beautiful expression in your last letter, in which you say that you regard life as a casket, in which we can lay up all the spiritual treasures that we possess. It is indeed a remarkably happy idea. In fact, man can make of life what he will, and give as much value to it for himself and others as he has power given him. This, however, is to be understood merely in a spiritual sense, as man has not external circumstances in his own power, but over his spiritual and moral nature he has entire control.
  • Life regarded as a Casket. Letter II. 15 (pp. 214-215)

• To be happy and to feel inward happiness is not the gift of fate, and comes not from the circumstances in which we are placed. We must reach it by our own exertions if it is to remain. But then it is comforting to think that it is always within our own power. God himself cannot make a man happy in his external circumstances, or at least only to a certain extent, nor yet can he make him always prosperous and successful in his aims; for God has with supreme wisdom placed men in the midst of ever-changing events, and these do not admit of men being always happy. But inwardly happy he can always make him, for he has given us this power in our heart — the yearning for him, the admiration, love, and trust in him; in fact, all those feelings by which his peace comes to us.
  • How Happiness is procured. Letter II. 16 (pp. 215-216)

• Experience will convince you, what I have often said, that man can do much for himself. God would not have given him a dis¬ position so easily excited and so easily moved to sorrow and grief, if he had not bestowed at the same time a strength of mind to control these feelings, and to get the better of this grief. He gives nothing directly; he ever wills that man should merit his blessing by his own exertions; we cannot say earn and deserve, for the human can never in this way attain the heavenly. All, too, that God gives must pass through man and his own exertions, as if it were his own peculiar work. It is with the seed which produces the fruit of the Spirit precisely as with that which springs from the earth, or at least in quite a similar way. The seed is not immediately from God or from nature; it must go through all the processes necessary to bring it by degrees to maturity; and if man, under the most favourable sky and the most fruitful soil, wishes to be secure of his harvest, he must bestow his labour and the "sweat of his brow." This is still more the case with the fruit of the Spirit and of the heart, but the certainty of the harvest is still greater.
  • Man can do much for himself. Letter II. 17 (pp. 216-217)

• The things of the world are ever rising and falling, and in unceasing change. This change must be in accordance with the will of God, as he has given to man neither the power nor the wisdom to control it and bring it to a close. The great lesson to be learned in such cases is, that man must strengthen himself doubly to perform his duty, and do what is right, seeking his happiness and inward peace in objects which cannot be taken away from him.
  • All Things are in Change. Letter II. 18 (p. 217)

• The sorrow which calls for help and comfort is not the greatest, nor does it come from the depths of the heart.
  • Sorrow. Letter II. 18 (p. 217)

• Enjoyment arises from activity of mind; both are ever united. There is indeed also an enjoyment which streams in upon us as a pure gift of Heaven. Such, however, we should not seek after; it is to be regretted when an anxious longing for this arises. But the great enjoyment, the great happiness, that which cannot be torn from us by any power, lies in the past and in the thought that happiness is indeed a great and precious good, but yet the improvement of the soul by joys and griefs, the development of noble feelings, is the true and only end of existence; whereas everything else in the world is ever changing, and in its nature transient. According to this view, life in the past sinks not into a stupid brooding over past pleasures or sorrows that have been felt, but is united closely with the mental activity which employs itself on the present.
  • How Enjoyment arises. Letter II. 19 (pp. 217-218)

• Religion is implanted in the very nature of man. The Christian religion has come down from above by the special will of God. It has, however, not deprived man of freedom on this point, but rather has conferred it on him in a still higher degree ; just because religious feelings have their true value according as they spring freely and spontaneously from man’s inner nature. Thus it has been received and pushed on till everything has yielded to it. But when it has been received into the hearts of men, it produces different effects according to the peculiar spirit and character of each. Already we see this take place among the Apostles, and therefore from the very earliest days of the Christian religion. See the difference between John and Peter. In the end there arose real dissensions. Passions and worldly views got mixed up. Thus profanity and abuses were the result. But still we always see in these religious disputes the godlike alongside of the earthly — ever the One, Eternal, and Immortal giving light and warmth as the sun, but overcast, sometimes more, sometimes less, by the clouds of the earthly.
  • Religion implanted in the very Nature of Man. Letter II. 19 (pp. 218-219)

• Cheerfulness is, as it were, the sunny ray of life. This is the constant portion of none, and the word itself comprehends also a multitude of degrees and modifications. The sum of all is this — that man, ever from inward and outward circumstances, forms for himself a nature which is peculiar to him, and is the track on which his life glides. This is a beneficent arrangement of Providence, for no struggle after harmony and elevation is ever without effect.
  • Cheerfulness. Letter II. 23 (pp. 219-220)

• There is a pride which belongs to every rightly-constituted mind, though it is scarcely to be called pride, but rather a proper estimate of self. It is, properly speaking, the elevation of mind which arises when we feel that we have mastered some noble idea and made it our own. Man is proud of the idea only so far as he feels that it has become part of himself.
  • Proper Pride. Letter II. 23 (p. 220)

• There is an important law of nature which should never be lost sight of, I mean that of our maturity for death. Death is not a cutting off of being, but a transition, a passing from one form of being to another. Both conditions, here and hereafter, so depend on each other, and are so inseparably connected, that the first moment there can only commence with the last moment here, when the perfect development of the being is completed. No human wisdom can calculate, no inward feeling can show, the moment of this maturity for death, or the impossibility of advancing farther; to attempt this would be the vain presumption of human pride. He only who is in a position to penetrate and understand our whole being can do this ; and it is the dictate alike of duty and of wisdom to commit the hour to Him, and never to oppose our impatient wishes to his will.
  • Maturity for Death. Letter II. 33 (pp. 220-221)

• Many terrors are in a great measure only in the imagination. Even in many real illnesses it adds much when people are timid and of anxious minds. The restlessness which certain diseases bring with them is lessened if we are able to counteract them by peace of mind. With positive pain it is otherwise, but even with it much may be done. Above all, much is gained if we regard sickness not as a state of suffering, but as a labour which must be got over. For no one can doubt but that the patient can contribute much to the restoration of his strength and to his own recovery.
  • Many Terrors are only Imaginary. Letter II. 33 (p. 221)

• As the sea in its sublime uniformity ever brings manifold images before the soul, and calls up a variety of thoughts, it became quite evident to me, from violent continuous storms, what flattering gentleness the sea has in its greatest terrors. The sea, which swallows up what it seizes, advances with playfulness and covers the deep abyss with white foam. The sea has been called deceitful and treacherous, but there lies in this trait only the character of a great natural power which, to speak according to our own feelings, renews its strength, and, without reference to joy or sorrow, follows eternal laws which are imposed by a higher Power.
  • The Sea. Letter II. 36 (p. 222)

• Man is apt to judge of things not so much by their intrinsic worth, as by their agreement with his own preconceived ideas.
  • Man judges with his own Preconceived Ideas. Letter II. 37 (p. 222)

• Man reconciles himself to almost any event, however trying, if it happens in the ordinary course of nature. It is the extraordinary alone that he rebels against. There is a moral idea associated with this feeling, for the extraordinary is, or at least appears to be, something like an injustice of Heaven.
  • Man rebels against Anything out of the ordinary Course of Nature. Letter II. 37 (pp. 222-223)

• Time is only an empty space, first acquiring meaning from the events, thoughts, and feelings with which we fill it. But as we know that this meaning has come fraught with joy and sorrow to many sensitive natures, our own hearts cannot but be affected by it. Its quiet, secret power, too, has a magical charm. The day on which a great misfortune has befallen us is, after a long course of years, passed unnoticed, and then, too, unknown to us is the approach of one on which a calamity inevitably awaits us. If we reflect deeply on the consequences of time, we lose ourselves as in an abyss. There is neither beginning nor end. A great comfort lies, however, in contemplating the course of life, as it ever reminds us of a sublime law — an eternal controlling power — an immutable order. There is something very tranquillising in the knowledge of this order in all the affairs of the world, in the frailty of human nature, and in the apparently uncontrolled destructive power of the elements.
  • Time is only an Empty Space. Letter II. 42 (pp. 223-224)

• But for good recitation many things are necessary: first, of course, what only a good education can give to any one, a clear conception of the meaning, and a good, distinct pronunciation, free from provincialisms; and then what is innate: a happily-constituted, sensitive organisation, a fine musical ear for the intonation, a genuine poetic feeling, and a mind in which all the human affections exist in strength and purity.
  • Good Recitation. Letter II. 42 (p. 224)

• In whatever way the so-called great political affairs of the world may go, individuals and families proceed on their course with little interruption, endeavour to better their condition, and to improve the means which time puts more and more into their hands, and to increase those means so as to improve their position in society. This is a very consoling reflection, and the grand course of human destiny thus shows itself to be much less dependent on foreign will and chance than appears at first sight.
  • The Grand Course of Human Destiny. Letter II. 46 (pp. 224-225)

• As time advances more things appear, which enable the world to judge of the characters of remarkable men. In our judgments of them at first we are influenced by the opinions which their contemporaries held respecting them, but gradually another opinion arises, on which at last what is called posthumous fame is built up. Men in this way become in a certain degree like phantoms. Much which belongs to them vanishes, and what remains assumes quite a different aspect. Therefore what we know of them will be received according to the spirit of the existing time. So uncertain is the image which even the greatest men leave behind them in history.
  • Posthumous Fame. Letter II. 47 (p. 225)

• Cheerfulness cannot be forced, and man has not much more power over the clouds that overshadow his mind than over those that darken the sky. Meanwhile man ought not to be altogether inactive, but must labour at his daily duties, and be watchful over himself.
  • Cheerfulness cannot be forced. Letter II. 49 (pp. 225-226)

• Prayer is intended to increase the devotion of the individual, but if the individual himself prays he requires no formula — he pours himself forth much more naturally in self-chosen and connected thoughts before God, and scarcely requires words at all. Real inward devotion knows no prayer but that arising from the depths of its own feelings.
  • Prayer. Letter II. 50 (p. 226)

• It is a characteristic of old age to find that time passes on with accelerated pace. The less one accomplishes in a given time, the shorter does the retrospect appear.
  • The Characteristic of Old Age. Letter II. 51 (p. 226)

• One cannot enough wonder or be thankful to Providence that from time to time he awakens in the spirits of a whole people, or of individuals, those truly godlike thoughts on which our inner being reposes.
  • Godlike Thoughts. Letter II. 52 (pp. 226-227)

Dictionary of Quotations from Ancient and Modern English and Foreign Sources (1893)

Edited by James Wood. London: Frederick Warne and Co.

• A man must seek his happiness and inward peace from objects which cannot be taken away from him.
  • p. 12

• Death is but a word to us. Our own experience alone can teach us the real meaning of the word.
  • p. 55

• Diejenige Regierung ist die beste, die sich überflüssing macht.
  • That government is the best which makes government unnecessary.
  • p. 65

Misattributed

• Erst erfreuen, dann belehren.
  • First delight, then instruct.
    • Karl Friedrich Schinkel and Gustav Friedrich Waagen in "On the Purpose of the Berlin Gallery" [Über die Aufgabe der Berliner Galerie] (1828); occasionally attributed to von Humboldt, who had quoted Schinkel and Waagen in a report.

About Wilhelm von Humboldt

• What do we mean when we speak of a normative system? As von Humboldt put it, "Man lives in a world presented to him by his language," meaning that the characteristics of a language lay down the categories of thought.
  • Shulamith Hareven, "The Limits of My Language Are the Limits of My World" in The Vocabulary of Peace: Life, Culture, and Politics in the Middle East (1995)

External links

• Profile at Humboldt University
• Profile at the Acton Institute
• Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy
• Lives of the Brothers Humboldt (1852) by H Klencke (Philipp Friedrich Hermann)
• Works by Wilhelm von Humboldt (in German)