father's trade," continued the
merchants, "but rather, as we have been told, spend your time in the
pursuit of knowledge, yet you need not become one of the clergy, or
renounce the pleasantest enjoyments of this life. It is bad enough that
all learning is in the hands of an order, so separated from worldly
life, and that the rulers are counselled by such unsociable and really
inexperienced men. In solitude, where they have no share in worldly
affairs, their thoughts must take a useless turn, and cannot be applied
to everyday concerns. In Swabia you can find both wise and experienced
men among the laity, and you need only choose what branch of human
knowledge you prefer; for you cannot want there good teachers and
advisers."
After a while Henry, whose thoughts had been led by this conversation
to the old court-preacher, said; "Although ignorant as I am of the real
condition of the world, I do not exactly rebel against your opinion, as
to the ability of the clergy to guide and judge of worldly affairs;
yet I hope I may be permitted to put you in mind of our excellent
court-preacher, who certainly is a pattern of a wise man, and whose
instructions and counsels I can never forget."
"We revere with our whole hearts," replied the merchants, "that
excellent man; but we can agree with your opinion, only so far as you
speak of that wisdom, which concerns a life well pleasing to God. If
you consider him as wise in worldly affairs, as he is experienced and
learned in spiritual concerns, permit us to disagree with you. Yet we
do not believe that the holy man deserves any less praise, because by
the depth of his knowledge of the spiritual world, he is unable to gain
insight into and an understanding of earthly things."
"But," said Henry, "is it not possible that that higher knowledge would
fit you to guide impartially the reins of human affairs? May it not be
possible that childlike and natural simplicity more safely travels the
road through the labyrinth of human affairs, than that wild, wandering,
and partially restrained wisdom, which considers its own interest, and
which is blinded by the unspeakable variety and perplexity of present
occurrences? I do not know, but it seems to me, that there are two
ways, by which to arrive at a knowledge of the history of man; the one
laborious and boundless, the way of experience; the other apparently
but one leap, the way of internal reflection. The wanderer of the first
must find out o
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