342 Kant: A Biographyrepublic he called out with excitement: 'Now let your servant go in peace
to his grave, for I have seen the glory of the world.'"^37
Friedrich Gentz, who had studied with Kant in 1783, felt the same way.
He wrote to Garve in December of 1790:The revolution constitutes the first practical triumph of philosophy, the first example
in the history of the world of the construction of government upon the principles of
an orderly, rationally-constructed system. It constitutes the hope of mankind and pro¬
vides consolation to men elsewhere who continue to groan under the weight of age-old
evils.^38
Gentz, together with many others, soon changed his mind. The Revolution
was soon declared as the work of wicked men, Freemasons and Illuminati.
Those who criticized the existing order were called "Jacobin," and "a rain
of oppressive edicts fell on Germany."^39 Starck, the "crypto-Catholic"
with roots in Königsberg, was one of the chief proponents of this view.
Kant, on the other hand, remained a steadfast adherent of the Revolution,
as his subsequent publications show.
Kant did not defend the Revolution only in public. It also was an im¬
portant topic in his private dealings. Metzger took it as a mere "peculiarity
of Kant's character," and not as a "vice," that Kant
for many years defended with great frankness and fearlessness his principles, which
were favorable to the French Revolution, against anyone (including men of the high¬
est offices in the state) - whether he did so during his last years I do not know. There
was a time in Königsberg when everyone who judged mildly, and not even with ap¬
proval, was called a Jacobin and was blacklisted. Kant was not deterred by this to speak
at noble tables for the goals of the revolution, and they had so much respect for the
man that they did not hold his views against him.^40
On the other hand, at least if we can trust Borowski, Kant himself could not
take disagreement on this matter. "Open contradiction insulted him, if it
was persistent, it made him bitter. Certainly, he did not push his view on
anyone, but he heartily disliked disputatiousness. When he observed it more
than once [in someone], he preferred to avoid occasions that would lead to
it. Thus he said right away to a man whom everyone knew thought entirely
different about the French Revolution than he did: "I think it would be best,
if we did not talk about it at all."^41 In matters concerning this momentous
event, he was very dogmatic.^42 He thought the Revolution a good thing and
worried only that it would take a "fruitless" direction. Terror or scandal did
not seem to trouble him greatly. Indeed, it was "very difficult, if not im¬
possible to change his view, even if it contradicted the facts."^43