The acute preacher, Jacob, in Halle published, after Mendelssohn's death, a book entitled, _Examination of Mendelssohn's Morgenstunden_, in which he shows that, according to the _Critique of Pure Reason_, all metaphysical doctrines are to be rejected as baseless. But why does this concern Mendelssohn more than any other metaphysician? Mendelssohn did nothing but develop to greater completeness the Leibnitio-Wolfian philosophy, apply it to many important subjects of human inquiry, and clothe it in an attractive garb. It is just as if any one were to attack Maimonides, who has written an excellent astronomical treatise on Ptolemaic principles, by writing a book with the title, _Examination of the Hilchoth Kidush Hakodesh of Maimonides_, in which he should seek to refute his author on Newtonian principles! But enough of this. CHAPTER XXV. My aversion at first for belles lettres, and my subsequent conversion--Departure from Berlin--Sojourn in Hamburg--I drown myself in the same way as a bad actor shoots himself--An old fool of a woman falls in love with me, but her addresses are rejected. For _belles lettres_ I discovered not the slightest inclination; I could not even conceive how any man was to form a science of what pleases or displeases--a matter which, according to my opinion at the time, could have merely a subjective ground. One day when I was taking a walk with Mendelssohn, our conversation fell upon the subject of the poets, whom he recommended me to read. "No," I replied, "I am going to read none of the poets. What is a poet but a liar?" Mendelssohn smiled at this and said, "You agree in this with Plato, who banished all poets from his Republic. But I hope that with time you will think differently on the subject." And so it happened soon. Longinus' _On the Sublime_ fell into my hand. The examples of the sublime which he adduces from Homer, and particularly the celebrated passage of Sappho, made a deep impression on my mind. I thought to myself, these are but foolish trifles, it is true, but the imagery and descriptions are really very beautiful. After that I read Homer himself, and was forced to laugh heartily at the foolish fellow. What a serious air, I said to myself, over such childless stories! By and by, however, I found a great deal of pleasure in the reading. Ossian, on the other hand, whom I got to read afterwards (of course only in German translations) produced on me a peculiarly awe-inspiring effect. The pomp of his style, the impressive brevity of his descriptions, the purity of his sentiments, the simplicity of the objects described by him, and lastly, the similarity of his poetry to that of the Hebrews, charmed me uncommonly. Thus I found also a great deal of gratification in Gessner's Idylls.