After resting at Naumburg until the middle of October, Nietzsche set forth for the University of Bonn. It was here that he came under the guidance of Professor Ritschl, who later was to exert a great influence over him. Friedrich Wilhelm Ritschl was not only the foremost philologist of his time, but a scholar deeply versed in classical literature and rhetoric. It was he who founded the science of historical literary criticism as we know it to-day. When he first met Nietzsche his interest in the young man at once became very great, and the relationship between them rapidly developed into the warmest of friendships. To Ritschl Nietzsche owed many things. It was at the former's house that he became acquainted with many of the leading learned men of the day. And it would be unfair not to credit Ritschl with much of the future philosopher's ardent and lasting interest in ancient cultures.
At Bonn Nietzsche entered the collegiate life with unusual zest. He became a member of the Franconia Student Corps, and participated freely in the drinking bouts which, from what we can learn from his letters home, constituted one of the main duties attached to his membership. But this phase of the student life was foreign to his tastes, and after brief activities in the rôle of "good fellow," he found a more spontaneous recreation in attending concerts and the better class theatres. He privately studied Schumann, and during 1864 and 1865 his life bore a marked musical stamp.
It was during Nietzsche's days at Bonn that a decided change came over his religious views. His critical studies in the literature and culture of the ancients had done much toward weaning him from the formal and almost literal theological beliefs of his family. The first open breach between his newer ideals and the established prejudices of his mother came at Easter-time about midway of his course at Bonn. He was home for the holidays, and when the good people were preparing to attend communion, he suddenly informed them of his decision not to accompany them. Arguments were unavailing. An animated discussion arose in which he firmly defended his attitude; and from that time on there was never a reconciliation between his religious standpoint and the one held by his family. Two learned ecclesiastics were called into consultation, but they were unable to meet the disquieting arguments of the young heretic, and his case was dismissed for the moment on his Aunt Rosalie's theory that even in the lives of the devoutest Christians there often come periods of doubt, and that during such periods it is best to leave the backslider to his own conscience. Nietzsche, however, never again entered the fold.
Curiously enough it was at this same period that came his revulsion toward the dissipations of student life. He went so far as to attempt an imposition of his moral theories on the members of the Franconia, but this attempt at reformation resulted only in his own unpopularity. In his attitude toward duelling—a pastime somewhat over-emphasised at Bonn—Nietzsche was consistent with his other beliefs. The chivalrous side of it appealed to him, although he detested the spirit of it from the standpoint of the student body. However, he took heroic, if unconventional, means to involve himself in a duel lest his position be misconstrued as cowardice. He selected an adversary he thought worthy of him, and pleasantly demanded a combat on the field of honour, ending his request: "Let us waive all the usual preliminaries." The other agreed, and the duel was fought. But the incident merely resulted in emphasising Nietzsche's disgust for student life. Says his sister, "The circumstances which above all aroused my brother's wrath was the detestable 'beer materialism' with which he met on all sides, and owing to these early experiences in Bonn he for ever retained a very deep dislike for smoking, drinking, and the whole of so-called 'beer-conviviality.'" His decision to leave Bonn and enter the University of Leipzig was due to his fondness for Ritschl. In the dispute which arose between the two Professors, Jahn and Ritschl, Nietzsche's friendship for the latter made him a partisan, although he held Jahn in the highest respect; and when Ritschl decided to transfer himself to Leipzig, the young philosopher, along with several of the other students, followed him. This was in the autumn of 1865. Nietzsche reached Leipzig on the 17th of October, and the next day he presented himself to the Academic Board. It was the centennial anniversary of the day when Goethe had entered his name on the register, and the University was celebrating the event. The coincidence delighted Nietzsche greatly, who regarded it as a good omen for his future at the new institution.
It was during his residence at Leipzig that there came into his life two events which were to have a profound and lasting influence on his future. One of these was his acquaintance with Wagner—an acquaintance which several years later developed into the strongest friendship of his life. The other event (in many ways more important than the first) was his discovery of Schopenhauer. This discovery is characteristically described in a letter to his sister: "One day I came across this book at old Rohn's curiosity shop, and taking it up very gingerly I turned over its pages. I know not what demon whispered to me: 'Take this book home with thee.' At all events, contrary to my habit not to be hasty in my purchase of books, I took it home. Once in my room I threw myself into the corner of the sofa with my booty, and began to allow that energetic and gloomy genius to work upon my mind. In this book, in which every line cried out renunciation, denial, and resignation, I saw a mirror in which I espied the whole world, life and my own mind depicted in frightful grandeur. In this volume the full celestial eye of art gazed at me; here I saw illness and recovery, banishment and refuge, heaven and hell. The need of knowing myself, yea, even of gnawing at myself, forcibly seized me." This book went far in arousing the philosophic faculties of the young philologist, and later he wrote many essays, long and short, both in praise and in refutation of the great pessimist. That he should at first have subscribed to all of Schopenhauer's teachings is natural. Nietzsche was vital and susceptible to enthusiasms. It was in accord with his youthful nature, full of courage and strength, that he should have been seduced to pessimism.
At Leipzig Nietzsche accomplished an enormous amount of work: and his nature developed in proportion. The life was freer than it had been at Pforta or at Bonn. Far from being hampered in the voicings of his inner beliefs, he found his environment particularly congenial to self-expression. He made numerous friends, principal among them being Erwin Rohde, who crossed his later life at many points. He showed a great interest in political, as well as in literary and musical, events; and the war between Prussia and Austria fanned his youthful ardour to an almost extravagant degree. Twice he offered himself to the authorities, hoping to be permitted to serve as a soldier, but was rejected both times on account of his shortsightedness. His interest in his studies, however, was in no wise diminished. He read widely in English, French, Greek and Latin, and devoted much scholarly research to Theognis, Diogenes Laertius, and Democritus. His essay on the subject, "De Fontibus Diogenis Laertii" won the first university prize, and was later published, with other of his essays on philology, in the Rheinisches Museum.
At this time the Prussian army found itself in sore need of men, and although Nietzsche had been exempt from military duties and had failed to secure enlistment, he suddenly found himself, in the autumn of 1867, called upon for compulsory training. A new army regulation had just been passed requiring all young men, if otherwise physically sound, to enter military service even though their eyesight was partially impaired. As a consequence Nietzsche had to leave Leipzig and go into training. He made an effort to enlist in a Berlin Guard Regiment, but was finally compelled to join the horse artillery at Naumburg. Although he had previously volunteered for service, he now found that the life of a soldier was far more irksome and far less romantic than he had imagined. He was unhappy and disconsolate, and deplored the slavery attached to the life of a mounted artilleryman. He was not destined, however, to fulfil his arduous military duties to the full term of his proscription. Barely a year had gone by when he was thrown from his horse and received what at first was thought a slight strain, but what later turned out to be a serious injury. The pommel of his saddle had compressed his chest, and the inflammation which set in necessitated his permanent withdrawal from service.
For a long time Nietzsche was under the care of the famous specialist, Volkmann, to whom the military doctors had turned him over when they had begun to despair of his recovery. During convalescence, he busied himself with preparations for his coming university year and assisted in some intricate indexing for members of the faculty. In October, 1868, he was able to return to Leipzig and resume his work. But another unexpected event—this one of an advantageous nature and destined to alter his whole future—came in the form of an inquiry from the University of Bale in Switzerland. The members of that institution's educational board, attracted by Nietzsche's essays in the Rheinisches Museum, wrote to Ritschl for information regarding the young philologist. Ritschl replied that Nietzsche was a genius and could do whatever he put his mind to. Thus it happened that, although only 24, he was offered the vacant post of Classical Philology at Bâle, without even being put through the formalities of an examination. However, he was straightway granted a Doctor's degree by the University of Leipzig, and on the 13th of April, 1869, he left Naumburg to assume the duties of his new appointment. His departure marked the passing of the Nietzsche household. His grandmother and both the maiden aunts were dead, and because, no doubt, of religious differences, he and his mother became estranged. Of that intimately welded family circle, only the deep friendship between Nietzsche and his sister remained.
On May 28, Nietzsche delivered his inaugural address at Bâle, using the personality of Homer as his subject. The hall was crowded, and the address made a decided impression on both students and faculty. The lecture was an unusual one and well off the conventional track. It created riot a little mild excitement among the professors at Leipzig, and the cut-and-dried philologists of that institution were frankly scandalised by its boldness. The address, however, was an index to Nietzsche's character, and, in looking back on it, we can see that it unmistakably pointed the way along which the future development of his mind was to take place. At Bâle, the young philologist, despite the people's kindly disposition toward him, suffered from solitude. His classes were small. Although he had made an impassioned plea for his particular science, the interest in philology was slight, and his morning lectures were attended by only eight students. Nietzsche was without a companion with whom he might exchange his ideas and personal thoughts. His only diversion came in the form of occasional trips to neighbouring parts of the country; and the letters he wrote to his sister and his former friends were tinged with melancholy. But he was conscientious in his work, and a year later he was given a professorship.
Before he could accept this later appointment it had been necessary for him to become a naturalised subject of Switzerland, so that when the Franco-German War of 1870 broke out, he could not serve as a combatant—a fact which caused him keen disappointment. He was able, however, to secure service as an ambulance attendant in the Hospital Corps, and set forth upon his patriotic duties with a glad heart. Having been granted the leave he asked for at the University, he went to Erlangen, where he entered for a course of surgery and medicine at the Red Cross Society. After a brief training as a nurse, in which line of work he showed remarkable adaptability, he was sent to the seat of war at the head of an ambulance corps. He was untiring in his energies and laboured day and night in the midst of the battlefields. But the overwork proved too much for him, and he soon reached the limit of his endurance. One day, after long exposure in a cattle truck filled with severely wounded and diseased men, he began to show signs of serious illness, and when, after great difficulty, he managed to reach Erlangen, it was discovered that he was suffering from diphtheria and severe dysentery. Though he had seen but a few weeks' hospital service, it was now necessary for him to discontinue his duties entirely. His sister tells us that this illness greatly undermined his health, and was the first cause of his subsequent condition. To make matters worse, the slight medical education which he had received in preparation for his ambulance service led him to pursue a fateful course of self-doctoring—a practice which he continued to his own detriment throughout the remainder of his life. Nietzsche did not even wait until he was well before resuming his duties at the University, and this new strain imposed on his already depleted system had much to do with bringing on his final breakdown.